The batshit-crazy Portsmouth-based (?) incels have struck again!
29 and 30 December 2022 (updated and edited)
I spent 2 hours logged in at the North End public library yesterday. I couldn’t extend the session from the workstation; it said that I would be exceeding the maximum time that I could be logged in there. After I logged out, there was hacking activity, perhaps for about 5 minutes. Someone was gearing up and down of the fan, in the black box with the USB ports. The hacker’s often done this to indicate that he’s angry or anxious (but I think that he also sometimes does it to taunt me).
9:12: brief hacking activity on my computer at home, while typing this, and saving it on USB stick. Also, when someone is still in the computer at home when I want to shut it down, it usually won’t shut down (because there are processes running that me wanting to shut down the computer won’t terminate).
27 December 07:57
(updated at 18:54)
the following day on 28 December 2022 from a public facility library as I once again have no internet access)
This morning, my newer phone, with the smaller memory, said something about some frequency band when I wanted to switch its wifi hotspot on to be able to go online and then I got locked out of that phone too. No more internet access.
What’s been done is that both SIM cards, the Dutch card and the UK card have been knocked out and are asking for a PUK code, and (I think that) “data” has been disabled, just as in my other phone, with the larger memory.
How was this done? I think that illegal system updates were forced onto the phones.
I have an unregistered, still perfectly valid SIM card for a different UK network, with 12 GB data on it, bought a few months ago, also to try to get around the crazy hacking, but I am unable to activate it.
I had noticed before that I sometimes even had internet access without a SIM card in the older phone, with the larger memory. I had bought that one “secretly” at Asda in Southampton to try to stay ahead of the hacking when I was still using other phones, but it too got detected and accessed pretty early on.
Something somewhat similar was done just before Christmas 2016, I seem to recall. I urgently wanted to pay two people before Christmas, but couldn’t because I couldn’t access the internet anywhere and was forced to run all over town desperately looking for a place where I could access payment facilities. I ended up purchasing an iPad with a SIM card slot. (I wish I still had it, because it was great, but I was later forced to pawn it and I pawned it for fairly little, but I lost it because I was not able to buy it back.)
What else do we have?
Yesterday, on 26 December, I got an e-mail from someone in the US who wrote that the text messages I sent on Christmas never got through. The person did not talk about anything specific that would have allowed me to identify the message as genuine (not spoofed) and the person mentioned “neighbor”, which is someone that the person in question normally always refers to by that neighbor’s first name. Within this context, namely a Christmas dinner, the person surely would have mentioned the neighbor’s husband too. The person lives in a remote area; there are no other neighbors. (Unless that has changed very recently.)
Conclusion: There is a large likelihood that the e-mail from that person in the US was spoofed or had been altered. Again.
A few weeks ago, as I mentioned, batshit-crazy Portsmouth (whoever this is in practice) knocked out my internet access on my other phone, on which I lost my available credit; I probably still had at least 40 GB sitting on it. It is one of the four phones that I currently have.
This was when I protested because he – whoever it is – was constantly picking the locks again and going into my flat to carry out crap. I then got a stupid message from “the home-visiting team” to which I responded the way I refer to above in another blog post; it’s pinned. I think I told him to kill himself, but I ordered him to kill me first, hoping to trigger this deranged bozo or those deranged bozos into actually attacking me.
So I got “killed”. My internet access was shut off.
Back then, I still happened to have one unregistered SIM card, which I then put that into the newer phone with the smaller memory. I went to Sainsbury’s to buy credit to go online. 80 GB’s worth of credit. (That’s the credit that has now been disabled and that is still valid until the
18th or so 3rd; I checked, time flies.)
Just before Christmas, batshit-crazy Portsmouth apparently did something to my 64-bit computer which means that I often couldn’t get it to start up. (A sexual act theme is connected to it again. This kind of stuff has happened before on the older computer when that was still the only one I had.)
When I turned on my 32-bit computer, I found that I couldn’t go online with that one (its Linux part; it’s dual boot) UNTIL I clicked the puzzling option “hidden network”.
A little while later, I found a window opened up that said that there was no bluetooth adapter available. (see other post, with screenshot). Usually, this sort of stuff tends to refer to sexual urban slang, so I googled urban slang and yes, bluetooth refers to giving head without using one’s hands.
(I’ve also gotten loads of bizarre “HDD full” errors since I moved into this flat, another one of
his the hacker’s games, and you know what, that too turns out to refer to sexual urban slang! It refers to “holding dick disorder”, whatever that is supposed to mean.)
Am I, in other words, still being punished for not meekly servicing random men in this hostile batshit-crazy town?
There is a home for severely disabled people a few doors down from me (one of the last Fratton Road numbers, 382 or whatever) out of which a man once left and then started yelling at me – not even on his side of the street, but crossing or waiting for the stop light) that my problem was that “you don’t know how to socialize” and he grabbed his penis when he said the word “socialize”. I have no idea who the man was. He works with people who are barely conscious. He works with people who are barely conscious and he yells bizarre shit at random women while grabbing his penis!
There are several themes that started when I was still living in Southsea (2009 and 2010) and that are still going on today:
1. Cutting off my internet access. This already began in Southsea, in all sorts of ways, including the fact that my address at some point turned out to have ceased to exist so that I was without internet access and phone for a long time. There was no mobile phone reception there.
2. Birds that got cut into their necks and in some cases decapitated. This has even happened inside my current flat. The “birds”, is that supposed to represent me, a woman?
3. Something utterly bonkers to do with slamming doors. I haven’t googled yet what urban slang that is. Almost all the bizarre shit that I’ve been subjected to when I moved into this flat turned out to refer to urban slang for genitals or sex acts, after all. Just like the bird decapitation theme, this too started in Southsea, however.
I am definitely dealing with incels, then. Deranged unhinged 4chan and 8chan incel crazies. As in “we shoot people up” crazies.
I’m currently often barricading my door again (on the inside, when I am in). Better safe than sorry. Whoever is behind this (sometimes) really scares me. (I try not to let this stuff get to me. It’s gotten easier over the years.)
I’ve been trapped in a batshit-crazy increasingly sadistic slavery situation for over a decade in a batshit-crazy town where everyone seems to think it is perfectly fine to keep another person prisoner.
The best that people in the local so-called establishment have been able to do in response was do things like say that if I didn’t like it, I’d better go back to where I came from, that I was probably learning-disabled and yell contemptuous gerontophobic stuff at me.
I’ve tried to escape four times. Twice I walked out on foot with zero money and twice I left by bus with almost no money. I never got far enough.
Portsmouth is batshit-crazy. I no longer want to know what on earth it is that is going on in this batshit-crazy town. I want nothing to do with any of it. I want nothing to do with anyone here. Portsmouth is batshit-crazy and up to its neck into really sinister, seriously creepy, utterly vile stuff.
I want out. I want out. I want out. I want my life back.
For the record, I had a heart attack on the 13th of December. I think it was a coronary spasm. I am not concerned about my heart, which I know very well because of ventricular extrasystoles in my twenties because my heart was used to getting lots and lots of exercise, as it did before I moved into this torture chamber of a flat too. I am taking it slow. Have to. I currently often can’t go faster than a snail, but it varies a lot. On some days, I feel much better and on some, I feel really crappy. I am often very tired. No energy.
I get very little exercise these days but I also have something going on in my right lung; running used to help me keep my airways clean. The incessant coughing has been a bit tough on my heart; it can be extremely exhausting. My coughing turns out to be caused mainly by thick sticky mucus from deeper inside my right lung (though I have allergy and stomach issues going on as well). I use something resembling the veterinary technique called “coupage” to get the mucus to move and I use N-acetyl cysteine to thin the mucus. Things just (28 December) really improved after I started patting my rib cage again; that also makes clear that the main mucus issue seems to come from the lungs, not the esophagus. This has been going on for over 5 years; I had a viral pneumonia in that right lung in 2017, which alerted me to the fact that there is some issue with that lung. (Likely just scarring.)
I am a little more worried about the possibility of a stroke, so I am cutting back on my use of salt. I sustained a chronic subdural hematoma a little
under over a year ago (yes, really). The heart attack – I assume it was the wave of high BP that I can picture associated with it? – reactivated the symptoms somewhat but not as bad as last time. It will pass but it is a warning sign. When the ringing in my ears has gone away, I know that this head injury has calmed down again. That will take a while, but it is only in one ear this time and it’s already fading. It is not related to my pulse.
I noticed that after the heart attack, the nature of my coughing seemed to change. I don’t know how to interpret that. It could be coincidental.
Portsmouth is a veritable death trap. All of it. Never mind. But I WANT OUT. I want my life back.
In view of the vile abuse that I’ve gotten in England, I promised myself years ago that I would never go into a hospital here (to stay overnight, I mean). Besides, the healthcare system has completely broken down here and on top of that, I can’t reach just about anyone anyway because of the
incels’ hacking activity so it does not even make a difference whether I want medical assistance or not. Haven’t been able to access medical care for quite a while. (I get a response from Daffy Duck from the Donald Duck gmail account so to speak, if at all.)
If anyone wonders why I looked so frumpy and unkempt for a few years, besides the effect of my deep poverty, it was deliberate. My reasoning was that if the monster(s) targeting me went looking for me once I escaped, they’d be looking for a frumpy old woman, and would not easily recognize me on CCTV images and so on. I am dealing with one or more immensely persistent sadistic monsters.
30 December 2022: For the record, the hacking entity knows about my heart attack. I am not having a good day, energy-wise, so I am pacing myself. This morning, my pulse was 100 in rest, but I started the day with quite a bit of coughing so that may be why. Normal for me is 60 (or even less). 70 is fast for me and makes me feel jittery. (I used to be in super shape, for many years.)