August 2, 2015 – Just giving you an update…..

It is official and I am living in poverty.  Realizing that at 60 years of age I have to begin all over again building my life and that the doctor isn’t going to do anything to help me even though he knows what he has done is upsetting.  I’ve moved across the country, and this is good.  But it took a lifetime, 49 years, to build the world I had before those prescriptions drugs.  I do not have the strength to rebuild.  It is a balance for me between wishing the doctor dead, versus wishing I’d have died.  And I think this is normal under the circumstances.  My house foreclosed on July 31, so that was the end of my prior life, right there.  I seem to be a bit of an aberration to employers, as management is all younger than I am.  All the jobs are starting positions, which we know means the shit detail. So how does a person with conscience put a 60 year old woman into shit detail?  A couple have but it does not work out.  I am past shit detail.  And usually I know more than the managers about business management, too.  So I am kind of a threat to their egos in that regard.  So how do I go to having absolutely ZERO money to financially secure again, especially after having professionals knock the snot out of me for 10 years, to successful again?  What made them stop knocking the snot out of me?  I think it was that I’d gotten on Facebook.  By the time they realized I was on Facebook and that people were wondering about me, and that some were smart enough to understand what was being done to me, it was too late to stop me.  Although once they realized I was on Facebook crying out for help outside of their sphere of influence they did try to reel things back in.  But it was too late.  By that time, which was around mid 2013, I’d gotten out of the Fairfax Dual Diagnosis clinic from having tried to kill myself, and I was getting the real help I needed.  Even so at the hospital they were not sure if I was a drunk, a druggie, or simply mentally unstable.  They concluded I was bi polar, and had me on Seroquel and lithium carbonate.  The Seroquel made me sick, and the lithium carbonate began destroying my kidneys.  So I had to do something drastic.  Because I would go into bouts of mania, hysteria really, I needed to do something. So I researched and found the over the counter lithium orotate.  And what the clinic was able to do was when I got out they referred me on to a wonderful follow up therapist.  That therapist broke out the book on emotional trauma and post traumatic stress disorder.  So although I had been told by social services in 2010 that I was suffering from long term post traumatic stress disorder really I had no idea what that looked like. I knew I was acting really weird but I was still was being traumatized. So a) I was still too busy trying to figure out all of the players who were doing that to me and b) I was still needing some type of prescriptions (which by that time was Ativan – Lorazepam) to get to sleep, and to keep me sort of calmed down.  Well, heck, they had me raped by the socio/psycho path Professor!  And yes they did.  So to understand it all was beyond my realm, at the time.  I kept things, like the note the doctor had left in my house while I was out, to remind myself that it was real, and that someone was really trying to harm me, to frighten me, and what I learned is what they were doing is called ‘gaslighting.’  To understand the reality that my medical doctor would use psychological warfare to take me out was horrifying.  It still is, when I think about it.  But I am not driven into mania over it anymore.  But I can become pretty depressed, and with dark thoughts. But by the time they found out I was on Facebook having created my own self support group, and that some of those people around me were smart, and they were listening, and praying, and also sharing with other people about me than it was too late.  They did try to cover up, to push me around, to discredit me, which was not hard for any believer of theirs considering they were literally on purpose upsetting me for driving me out of my mind.  But my new mental health therapist got out her book, showed me, told me why I was acting so oddly and she gave me exercises so that I would stop becoming too overwhelmed. Also at Fairfax Hospital they taught me coping skills and there were other classes too that helped me. I don’t think Fairfax staff really wanted to believe either that people in their own business would actually try to harm patients. But now it is undeniable, and the courts are in the pockets of the corrupt insurance and pharmaceutical businesses, and everyone is getting hip to it. That is of course unless in one way or the other they are on the teats. If they are on the teats they will still try to say that they are ‘helping.’ Yeah right, whatever.  And under the circumstances I was actually acting pretty good, amazingly well for what they were doing to me, and it was almost constant. Gang banging, they had me in their circles and they were pushing me back and forth from one to another.  Now we know Misty Upham did not fare so well, and she reached out to the police, too. So did I, and even I went to our Mayor (whose own husband committed suicide not that long ago – hummm), and she did nothing. Well these powerful ones are her campaign contributors, so what did I expect.  Nor did my associate Becky’s brother fare so well, since he did finally commit suicide.  So others are dead.  And I was supposed to die too.  That is what the doctor’s psychiatrist dad knew how to do, and on the witness stand (when the doctor took ME to court) the doctor referred to a transcript of a patient trying to get away from his father (a psychiatrist at Western State Hospital) the doctor said that is where he was trained. I could not ever get a copy of the court transcripts either. The transcriber would not return my calls. So they push us around their game boards, and by the time they are through with us we will either kill ourselves (like Becky’s brother) or we will fall into the hands of nefarious people, like Misty did, and we will be killed for them.  The psychopath they hired to push me over the emotional ledge expected I would kill myself.  Actually by now I am sure that he wishes he would have killed me with his own bare hands, because I have exposed him for his dastardly work with the doctor and his crony network.  To be precise, I should say that I did not expose him or them.  God exposed them further, after they had already exposed themselves.  God used me. It is just that they were spin doctors, exposing themselves as the victims of some mad, deranged woman.  As they played their parts, I played my part, too.  Now there were many people who helped to save me.  Brave people. There was the Judge who saved me from 4 years in jail when they (with the help of people I did not even know) had trapped me with lies and false accusations.  The Judge told me that he knew what they were trying to do to me, and that he was going to try to set me up for success.  And then there was Ragnar, my wonderful Public Defender, too, who was patient and wise and so smart.  And my Mom, who is now nuts and there is nothing that I can do about it.  All of this destroyed my Mom, too. There are the people on Facebook, some known and some unknown to, who when the doctor’s group began hacking into my Facebook to scare me and to continue harming me, they were somehow able to make them stop.  Well, I was able to start out smarting them, too, so that I could show people the hackers were real and not my imagination, and that they knew things about me, and that they were closer to the situation than some average hacker, and that they were trying on purpose to keep me upset. Gang stalking. They were gang stalking me, and they were telling people that they are trying to help me, yet they were anonymously terrorizing me.  But their trail was good enough and after the two weeks in the Fairfax and then receiving quality mental health care, I ‘got off’ the lithium carbonate, ‘got on’ the over the counter lithium orotate.  And I was able to start bringing down the manic episodes so that my emotions were becoming under control again.  What a relief that was.  Then I found the CBDs (cannabinoids) through my Facebook friend, and that nourishment soothed my poor wounded brain.  Of these things I am sure.  AND I was understanding what their psychological warfare against me was doing, the toll it was taking.  But they (politically connected and long time residence of the area) had infiltrated my neighbors (who my so called neighbor friend was a doctor’s daughter and my best friend was a doctor’s mother) so you can see that I was right in the middle of their own social circle hornet’s nest.  That did not stop them.  They slandered me, told all the old broads that I was a home wrecker, that I wanted in the doctor’s pants, and got mad when he told me no! Ever tell a bunch of doctor’s wives and their kids that a single woman is a home wrecker trying to screw over their old man?  Christ help me!  And Christ did.  Otherwise I would not even be here.  But being here is no big favor.  For almost two years, 2005 and 2006, I could not even work. My mind was that much marshmallow, could not do simple math, and the doctor’s family was harassing me through my employers – yes they were. They thought they were being cute and funny, when they were not being that way at all. They acted like they believed I was actually the person their drugs turned me into, and they were getting even with me for being the way their drugs made me. It was totally weird. Totally blaming me, the patient, for the monster of side effects they had created.  Trying to recover I did a lot of volunteer work, but really I was more of an obstacle, I was that messed up.  When finally I got back to work in late 2006 they began hacking my computers, at home AND at work at Loan Services. And that was in the days when nobody even knew what hacking was.  I asked my sister how that can be and she did not know. She told me to ask I.T., and when I asked her she did not know either. Then they set me up in the Ethics class. I should have known better than to go because the co-worker who insisted I go to that class with her hated me. That should have been a red flag. I still cannot believe that I’ve survived that network, and that they really did do all of those things to me.  I still do not know how I am going to get over it. I become so emotionally despairing sometimes that I can only cry and cry. So this is a testimony to everyone who thinks they can beat these guys. You cannot. No matter what I did they would not leave me alone. I ignored them at great length, but they refused to be ignored. They do not go away. They will stalk a person until the end of time. I have accepted this, and that their mentality is the rule. Our world and our country is a gang land. They say they want to build our confidence, but that is a lie. They want to use us, to squeeze us dry. I have moved 2400 miles across the country on a wing and a prayer.  But I would be lying if I did not say that I am not horribly depressed.  Well, heck, I went from being 28 years married, home almost paid off, no bills, had my ex husband 2 years away from retirement and I’ve just heard he did retire after all and he remarried too, and here I am starting all over at ground zero. After he did not lift a finger to help me while I was having the worst of the adverse reactions. Had he helped probably today I would be covered. And people tell me that it is very odd that he did not help me. Because he didn’t that is why I made him leave the house. I told him that toward me he was evil, and with him not helping me he is making me worse, so I needed him to go.  And there is the doctor and his family back there, where my home has been foreclosed upon, living happily ever after, laughing it up, telling peeps it was hormonal with me, or whatever they try to say when we manage to survive.  Really for them I was just supposed to disappear into the woodwork, and they did not care where to, dead or alive, as long as they did not have to see what they had done. They are all former military officers, the doctor and his former CEO, so already they think they are all special, don’t have to answer for their crimes against humanity.  Silver spoon and privileged.  They have said that I was already unstable.  That is what they said about Becky’s brother too. That is what I’d read they’d said about Misty too.  That is what they always say.  But the truth is that they are the ones who are unstable, but they are like entrenched parasites, and they are insane.  I was stable.  Nothing I ever felt was not right or in direct relationship and appropriate to whatever was being done to me or around me. Had I not been so stable I would be dead too, of this I am sure. And all of them would be saying to everyone around me, and to the First American Title reps and those people they used, “Oh you see, we all tried to help her but she was just too far gone.  Probably drugs.  Definitely mentally ill.”  Well they are liars.  They are the ones who are out of control. But they have the money, and everyone will kiss their butts to rub elbows.  I saw that over and over again, they threw me under the bus for the doctor.  Nobody wanted to deal with me, not even my own family.  That is the idea, you know?  That we cannot handle what they have done and are doing to us, and neither can the people around us so we become isolated. When we are isolated we are easier to take out.  Cripes!  My own sister called me a sick fucking bitch, and defended that “poor” (in her words) doctor, the “poor” judge (who bullied me before) and the “poor” therapist (who raped me.)   Well, the only thing I have to say is this;  I am here, and I am not on any of their prescription drugs anymore, and I am as stable as anyone can be who has been put through this, and has had the entire life’s work and home life destroyed and been beaten down to zero, zilch, nada.  Anything I feel, think or do is appropriate to having survived a psychological warfare with western medical criminals.  And they are criminals.  I’ve won, but I am the loser. They are the winners. Now I am an aberration, and the ones who destroyed my life will never admit it, will never repent, will never even lift a finger to help me.  Because if they started a trend of helping people like me who they have done this to it would cost them a fortune.  And they love their money more than they love God.  That is why God used me to expose them.  Sooner or later people will become brave enough to admit the truth.  The truth is that my doctor and his crony corporate network attempted to kill me, and everyone around me who should have known better and should have helped me turned their backs on me afraid for their own faces and their own skin. So instead they helped to pick my bones. And most of those people call themselves Christians, too, say they believe in God.  They are liars, and they are cowards, and nothing will change that.  They don’t want to hear it, and that is their perogative. But the truth is that I was supposed to die, and they hid their faces and allowed it to happen. But God kept me here to use me to show them just who they are and that they are not right with God.  Thank you God.  Please keep me in your prayers.  I am 60 years old, and the hardest part of my life is ahead of me at a time when it should all be behind me.  Thank you.

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