Tag Archive: Vigilantism


My New Home With the NHS

Part of the problem with the house is its almost non-existent sound-proofing.  On my side of the house we are right on top of each other bedrooms-wise and the floorboards creak when you move.  This can be heard in the next room.  My next door neighbour/fellow patient can hear when I move and I can hear when she moves.  I get nervous because of the door slamming and wonder what her movement means all the time.  The other lady doesn’t even acknowledge me when I say hello.  The door slamming started 2 days after I got there.  I had told the staff this was a pattern that was following me, but previously it has been insisted that this belief is all a part of what I believe to be my non-existent mental illness.  At the moment I feel weak and tired and my chest hurts.  My blood pressure was taken this morning and a stethoscope held to my back, because I told them I wanted to pass out when I was outside.  She told me to take deep breaths and when I did I started to cough, clearing my airways.  She commented and I felt inhibited.  Coughing and clearing my airways would have been a good start to deep breathing.

I have been afraid/reluctant to write like this about the new place I am in because I don’t want to stir up bad feeling.  But I think the building is largely responsible for the tension in the house.  Doors are made to slam which would not slam left to themselves, and they should be slam-proofed anyway.   It looks as if nothing has been done to make these buildings, which used to be offices, apparently, suitable for the purpose they are now used for.  Also even the largest bedrooms are really small.  Mine is one of the smallest.  It is 2 or 3 paces from my bed to the door.  One of the staff who spoke to me acknowledged that the unit was not fit for purpose, but the acknowledgment doesn’t make it any easier.

It is exactly the same with social housing.  The sound-proofing is appalling. I heard a story on Radio 4 recently where it said that thin walls made bad neighbours.  That is true, definitely. They also make angry, desperate people.  I don’t like to sound strident and political, but the truth is that in the places I have been in we can hear so much from each other’s space it is humanly indecent.  It really is like being packed together like farm animals.

I’m saying all this stuff, but sometimes, when it comes down to it, I feel as if I am being precious and giving myself ‘airs and graces’.  Really I am no different from anyone else except that I have been silenced by intimidation and vigilantism, delivered subliminally.  Knowing that is what is happening makes me too angry to speak.

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After Cain killed Abel and God asked him where he was, Cain said, “am I my brother’s keeper?”

I feel as if my upstairs neighbours are my keepers.  Or that they see me as an animal in captivity for observation and experimentation, or as a subject of some form of pest control.

Until a few years ago I was never one for talking about vibes and energy, but now it is unavoidable.  Every time my mind goes into recreative and positive relaxation a sound from them is imposed on it, usually vocal, normally sounding, today, like ‘dobre’, though it could be ‘hallelujah’ or banging.  Throughout the day, all day, every day.  I feel it as ‘don’t you dare’.  Every movement I make they put a sound or comment on top.  She screams like a demon when I come and go.  They do tapping stuff.  She goes from sweet to hate in a second, unless there is another woman there.  My mind can’t cope with it.

Also I have people turning up and ringing my doorbell and when I answer there is no one there.

Every time I become animated within myself and feel I can express myself in a way I like, their voice imposes itself, and I am here like a guilty and frightened thing, desperate and constantly seeing my own expressive life being killed by what can only be called aggressive psychic interference.

I sneezed a few minutes ago.  Sneezing, when my mind feels so bound, feels cleansing, and I like the recovery period, the seconds afterwards.  But as soon as I finished sneezing one of them said ‘dobre’.  I take hold of what I am writing now and give it a mental affirmation as it presents itself, and they speak uncomfortably and as if objecting.  It frightens the life out of me.  That phrase has a whole new meaning for me these days.

I went to the toilet and as I came out one of them said ‘dobre’.  I don’t want not to get on with them but they are making it impossible.

They still bang at me when they hear me in the bathroom.  They stir and bang about uncomfortably or deliberately every time sleep becomes restorative or pleasurable or exultant for me.  If I think about it, it is as if they are dragging me around by the hair.

I went to a pizza restaurant yesterday, and there is a children’s play area right in front of it.  Three girls dressed in yellow stopped and stared at me and I thought about the paedophile rumour.  I sat down and a few minutes later one of them shouted out ‘zestoki’ (cruel), which is something I have been heard to shout at my neighbours.  I don’t know where they got that from.  I felt mentally assaulted and raped.  A bit later the children started screaming, really soul-piercing screams I felt invaded by, and a few seconds later a security guard appeared using a mobile phone, and he stared at me.  I’ve been here a long time.  I wondered if something he had done had been responsible for the screaming and the way it made me feel.  I’ve been harassed by security guards for ages now, sometimes mockingly and exultantly.

I had a couple of women come in and act strangely close to me.  One of them was eyeing me with narrow slit eyes, like an animal ready to pounce, and I was blank, I didn’t smile because my mind was preoccupied.   Then she went into a wonderful awesome sociable switched on beauty routine.  The clearest face, the most beautiful, fluttering almond eyes.  Face held up to her man.  I resented it, it seemed theatrical and aggressive.  I noticed she had a child with her, a girl of about 8 or 10 who seemed to be a bit ill-behaved, I can’t quite remember how.  I looked and thought, ‘like mother, like daughter’.   But as I kept looking I realised the girl was uncomfortable and wanted attention that she was being denied, and she kept trying to get it, then she looked bored and wandered off.  And I thought, ‘poor kid, having a mother like that’.

That was when my scepticism and my ‘I don’t believe this’ response kicked in, and I decided to have a good, doubting, examining look at the whole act.  Shortly afterwards they got up and left, but as they walked away it looked almost as if she deliberately divested herself of a character.  Afterwards it seemed to me that the whole atmosphere in the restaurant was changed.  I had felt before that people seemed so happy and relaxed, but afterwards everyone was awkward and trying to recover comfortable and natural behaviour.  I would call it vamping, but she seemed to be presenting herself as one of God’s and nature’s beauties, dominant in her way and empty-headed.

I feel as if I am being malicious now, but I’m not.  I’ve had women doing this around me a lot when I go out, and I don’t know why.  Every time I get a moment of mental light and start thinking about what I am writing or examining it, the voice I find frightening from the woman upstairs when I am trying to write imposes itself and it is like an electric shock saying, ‘thou shalt not’, or ‘I don’t want you to’.

Thinking about it it reminds me that I have betrayed my own intentions and that I came here for the country and the people, not to be separate on a computer all the time.  But it feels like my refuge from their madness and invasiveness, as well as a chain in itself, and they won’t let me have that refuge.  The feeling that I can go to them and be friendly and that it will be welcome imposes itself, or is imposed on me, at the most psychologically inconvenient and resented and rebelled against times.  They have tied me up in knots, these changelings, and left me feeling guilty for not wanting to be available when I think I realise they want me to be.

They still comment when I cough, they still comment when they hear my computer and, if it is songs, at the change of every track.  They bang when I shit and comment when I fart or belch.

Jesus, does anyone understand this and how it makes me feel?  I was going to say, ‘how I feel about it’, because pop psychology in recent years has said that nothing can make you feel something, you feel it for your own reasons.  As I wrote it the man’s voice came in sharp and aggressive, like a knife into my mind, and now I can’t rework or work with anything.  When she opens her mouth it is as if she is piercing the air demanding power or recognition.  It often happens when possibilities and connections open up in my mind that I begin to feel happy and positive about.  So to me she seems to be saying, continually, ‘you owe me’.

One of Shakespeare’s characters ends a play saying, “the world is a stage and we are its actors”.  I was tagging this and thinking about the theatre aspect and watching and being watched, and that that approach to life runs counter, it seems to me, to the approach of the spirituality I have valued that emphasises unselfconsciousness.  I felt it when people started telling us to be vigilant about terrorism threats after 9/11.  Maybe that is my problem and misunderstanding.  If you are educated in the warning signals maybe you don’t go around with the terrorist attack threat constantly in your mind and even when the thought can’t be found, if the right things present themselves you become aware there might be a cause for concern.  To me, life is not for going around being consciously vigilant.

Yesterday in Parliament

https://suebarnett.wordpress.com/2011/01/08/i-followed-a-search/

This is a link to a post I wrote a while ago, about something called Monarch Mind Control.  I refer you to it to help you understand the rest of this post.  Included in that post is a link to an interview on Youtube between two very high profile people in America, one of whom was a special agent in charge of a police department.

The issue of Monarch Mind Control has come up for me again after watching the House of Commons broadcast yesterday. 

I have said before that I have been accused of paedophilia, although I am not a paedophile.  Yesterday Theresa May was talking about changes and appeals processes, and even before she got up to speak I was thinking that what had gone before seemed to be adopting a popularist stance.  I noticed that Nick Clegg was close to tears, and I noticed that, as in so many times in the past, David Cameron came in focusing and shutting everything out and down as much as he was able, and when I see that I find it frightening.  That the Prime Minister needs to focus in that way, in Parliament, before his electorate.  I feel that saying this could be to my harm and embarrassment, because it occurs to me in writing that he might have my safety and welfare in mind, at least in part.

Speaking of popularism, listening to Theresa May I believed she was doing the same thing, going for a projected popularist view.  The reason I say ‘projected’ is that I believe most of us are far more human and compassionate in our approach to this issue, especially those of us who have the slightest hint of understanding of the psychology of abuse, which should be most of us.  She presented herself as speaking for all right minded people, but as far as I am concerned she was appealing to the vigilante element of society, and her approach to the subject was in line with that.  She said that the judges who insisted that the human rights and privacy of people tagged and hated in this way were paramount were out of touch with the rest of us.  I, obviously, disagree.  She also said that the final decision in the appeals process on this issue was not for the courts, but for the police who, she said, were best placed to make this decision as being in touch.  That frightened me and I started thinking in terms of a police state.  Clearly I am speaking with heavy sarcasm and irony when I say that of course the police have always been squeaky clean and whiter than white and perfect models of humanity who have never harmed anyone and never acted with prejudice and never perverted the course of justice and never set anyone up or bullied anyone or consented to their bullying.  These are obviously the best people to handle such a sensitive issue (sarcasm and irony maintained).  I believe I have an idea of how long they were holding this accusation against me before I even knew about it, and how long they stood by, in spite of my complaints of harassment, and let people get on with it. That also goes for my housing association and the mental health authorities.

The issue of Monarch Mind Control came up for me again because there was something I didn’t understand about the presentation.  Then I remembered the interview in the post I have provided the link for, where the woman being interviewed said that, as far as she knew, it went back as far as her father.

I know, I am painfully aware, that this could be complete coincidence, but the dress she was wearing was identical in style and colours to a coat my father bought me when I was little. I can’t remember how old I actually was, but he died when I was 11.  He overdosed on sleeping tablets.  I don’t know if it was his intention to die, he didn’t say in his note, and he had done the same thing before and survived.

But Theresa May’s dress was almost identical.  And she was standing there adopting an almost vigilante attitude towards sex offenders, dripping with hate, contempt and loathing, it seemed to me, and saying how devious they are (they say the same about people they call mentally ill, it is or was part of the training for mental health professionals to view mental health patients as devious), downplaying if not completely invalidating the role of the courts over this issue, saying that parliament makes the laws, not the courts (but I say the courts uphold the law and no one is exempt from the law, including parliamentarians, as we have seen, thankfully, but if they are able to invalidate the courts, and cut us off, as Europeans, from the European Court of Human Rights, which they are saying they want to do [whether or not that is just a decoy talking point without teeth to distract from more important issues we are not talking about I don’t know, it’s one of the things they’ve always managed to talk about for years], how are they going to be held accountable?).  These lovely parliamentarians, calling groups devious and inciting hatred against them, you would think they had never done a devious thing in their lives, except me thinks the lady doth protest too much.

If the coat and the dress are not a coincidence but deliberate, why? I’ve already contacted people and asked to talk and not been acknowledged, so why would they want to do something like that?  They teamed it all up, as well, with talk about mental health.  It doesn’t matter what they are trying to say, when someone has already asked for assistance they shouldn’t be using those methods.  And if it was deliberate and they have known all along, then presumably it has been handed down to them over the years, and the government or whoever it was that had this knowledge that has been used in this way stood by and watched my father, with all his personal pain and inadequacy and lack of access to this kind of mass communication tool, insist that this was happening to him and being treated as mentally ill and in the end killing himself.  My dad.  My daddy, as I called him at the time and still think of him.  11 years old.  A younger brother and sister as well.  Whatever kind of person he was, it was wrong for something like this to be done to him and to me and to our family.  It is just as wrong for it to continue.  That is what I believe.  The one question I am afraid of is, ‘am I right?’  Am I right to believe this is wrong?  It might be good, kind governmental wisdom, and it might be better for me to go with it.  That is how I feel.

They were laughing a lot yesterday, which seemed to me completely inappropriate when handling such a serious and painful issue, but which also made me feel as if the arms of love and acceptance were being opened and offered to me, and a place of refuge, safety and protection and reconciliation.

I’m vulnerable to this kind of approach, at this particular point, because I had a bad experience in hospital last week when I was taken ill with severe stress related symptoms.  I was later contacted by the British Embassy and asked to confirm that I was OK, and I recounted the experience and everything involved in the stress that brought it on and asked for a reply, but I didn’t get one.  That was on Friday.  I want to say the Consul’s name, but people talk about discretion, and say if you are indiscrete and other people involved with you know that, they will not trust you.  I don’t know if, in my situation, discretion should be demanded of me or not.  What about me and my ability to trust?  But I don’t think officials should be subjected to vigilantism any more than anyone else should.  But this has gone so far, and I can’t afford legal representation, but I’m afraid if I mention his name on this forum anyway it might disqualify me for future help, either from the embassy’s own complaints procedure or from the law.  I don’t know what to do, because they themselves are acting illegally, it seems to me, and certainly if I don’t say his name the opportunity to move in on me again might be used.  It’s not a personal thing, I like him, at least to some extent, it’s about my own security in this situation.  I don’t know how to protect myself other than by naming him, but if I do that also might go against me, maybe even more long term.  I don’t know how it works.

On Monday (St Valentine’s Day) my housing association contacted me.  My housing association has often decided not to answer my emails and to set things in motion without consulting with me to have me apprehended under the mental health act.  The people who turn up unannounced often look appalled and apprehensive about me, and also are often very aggressive and insistent in their approach, and have even been violent and scathing, without me even knowing the specifics of why they are there.  So I replied to this person, my housing officer, Andy Minett at Hexagon Housing Association in Sydenham, made my position clear, reminded him of how he had handled things in the past and had often seen fit not to answer my emails but to go behind my back and over my head and not help effectively with community bullying and harassment, and I asked him not to resort to force or coersion but to inform me of his intentions because I believe I have a legal right to be informed.  I aksed him to clarify a few things, and as yet neither he nor anyone else from the housing association has contacted me.  Also, while I think of it, I have copied my emails on to the mental health team at Speedwell in Deptford, and they also do not acknowledge my emails, and I am afraid they are standing by and trying to force a crisis.  I asked for a response to one of them, through my CPN, from my psychiatrist, and although the CPN, Susan Farmer, said she had passed the email on to him, I have never received a response.

In this situation, and with these two most recent emails unacknowledged, on Tuesday evening someone rang my doorbell from downstairs and said what sounded like an Italianisation of my name.  I immediately thought it was the police and I was frightened, and I told him I spoke English and didn’t understand him, which was over all the truth, although not the issue for me at the time.  He said ‘OK’, and went, and I haven’t heard anything since.  But I was frightened and still am.  He came unannounced and unexpected, I didn’t know who had sent him or why, and I don’t think it should have happened that way.  I think that is really wrong. I’m afraid they might come back with instructions to arrest me under the mental health act.  But whose unprofessionalism and negligence is creating my fear and stress in the first place?  I think I could and can say ‘whose secrecy?’ and not be wrong in this case.

I’m tired now.  I might add more later, but right now if there was somewhere else I intended to go with this or something else I intended to say, I can’t remember.

Intermediate edit note: I’m recording Premier, and at the beginning John Pantry played a song called ‘Everything Was Done So You Would Come’, and he back announced it with tears in his voice.  He then moved on immediately to pray a prayer which sounded to me, in this context, as if he was instructing decision makers on how to pray and how to feel and how to view what they have done.  I obviously might be wrong, but it isn’t my opinion that I am, and if I am right I still think they are wrong to be doing this.  I still maintain it is stalking.  And I still maintain it is deceiving most of their audience.

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