t's really no longer a secret that, over the past year, I have been experiencing harassment from a small group of people. When it started I assumed it was about one woman's jealousy. The primary bully, and a friend, devoted their lives and money to the task of making my life miserable. It seemed silly at the time but things began to go from silly to dangerous as they once put an illegal substance in my antibiotic capsule causing me to have blackouts. The pharmacist consulted didn't know what it was, only that it was not a prescription med. It was later, when describing the incident to a friend, I discovered it was GHB, the date-rape drug. The first night I blacked out I had vague memories of someone being in my apartment with me but little more. All I knew for certain was that I woke up on the floor of my bedroom without any clothing. I might very well have let the incident lay as a one time incident had it not been for the nurse who took the drug to the pharmacy for me. I ran into her later in what would become a related location and she asked if I remembered her. I told her I did not (even though I did) and she smiled with relief saying, "good." Not long before that I had learned the agency she worked for had absolutely no record of my ever having been a client, despite that I had been one with them for approximately 8 years. My personal health aide suddenly could no longer speak to me.
As time progressed there was a series of odd incidents that continue to this day and always seemingly in direct response to something I've said to someone in the privacy of my home. Photos taken of damage to apartments and objects of which I questioned the purpose, began to disappear from my computer and Facebook account. When I discovered I had a copy of them on Dropbox my computer mysteriously crashed. I soon became aware that there are coincidences then there are a long line of coincidences that add up to a pattern.
I developed a theory based upon what was happening, the timing of these events and conversations I'd had with a number of mentally ill. It seemed to me that it all appeared to be connected to the closing of the State hospitals and the obvious disdain felt by the current government toward the lives of those who most need assistance. On the surface the closing of the hospitals seems it might be a positive mood. It was advertised as a way to give the mentally and Intellectually challenged an opportunity to live on their own and be responsible for their lives. In reality it ended up being a major fluster cuck, leaving patients to live either in over crowded nursing homes or in under supervised programs. Confused people were leaving the only home they had known for decades to be abused and neglected by the very people charged with making sure they thrived. For many even survival wasn't an option.
Add to that mix frustrated landlords forced to rent to them. Some decided to take advantage of the bedbug pandemic and evict tenants illegally. Who was going to figure it all out? The Disability Rights group was undermanned and unfunded. The only reason I even came up with my theory was because each piece of the puzzle I unearthed resulted in a barrage of harassment. My identity was stolen and people began making it a priority to prove me delusional. I ended up in the hospital where I spoke with other patients. Apparently, only a very few knew they were being treated illegally and immorally; none were aware they had legal rights to fight the treatment.
Monday, February 1 is Caucus night here in Iowa. As I write this I have criminals lurking on my wifi frantically trying to delete this article. I do not feel safe physically but have taken steps to ensure this becomes public if anything happens to me. I also know I have others fighting in my corner to help me keep this going.
Of course I can't prove this is what is really taking place but the background of my life keeps the issue in the foreground of my voice. This past month my roommate, a 61 year old woman with the mind of a 9 year old had her identity stolen because of me. It looks as though the check sent to her this week for groceries by her payee has disappeared. Our bills have been toyed with and all are in her name. Someone has her Social Security number and is using it.
As long as I'm able I will continue to tell my story to bring the plight of the mentally, and intellectually, disable to the forefront. This appears to be my destiny.
I could spend a lot of time and effort trying to convince the world of my sanity; however, it wouldn't do much good in the end. Jesus didn't have much luck convincing his family and I certainly don't have that kind of charisma. And, does it really matter? Is the issue my sanity or the well-being of a large group of disenfranchised human beings?
I could also name those involved in making this past year a miserable experience; but, I won't. For me it's the same as the media giving attention to the guy who shoots up a mall. He wants to be remembered for something and they give it to him. I won't give anyone that satisfaction. I will not make them the issue; rather, I will make them the reason I'm fighting. Put a positive spin on this part of my life and call them my fan club.