Hi,

I just found out what happened to Adriana Kuch, Michael Kuch’s daughter.

Any form of bullying is horrible and should be called abuse. School age bullying often does more harm than child sex abuse, research has shown, but the term “bullying” unfortunately often also conveys the connotation of culpability on the side of the victims.

When bullied teenagers take their life, it is often used to portray them as weak, as if that somehow justifies abuse. First of all, bullying often simply makes life impossible for practical reasons. Second, the effect of bullying cannot be exaggerated.

I’m an educated and capable woman from Amsterdam who’s previously lived in the States and moved to England at some point. I too became bullied. I was a slightly older woman (44 when I left Amsterdam), living on my own and working from home. I had become self-employed in Amsterdam, wanted to wrap up my PhD in the UK and then move back to the States, where I had loved living. I didn’t know that I apparently carried a bunch of stigmas in England.

In the first town where I lived in England, I was attacked one day. A bucket of water was dumped over me, sand and stones were thrown at me; two stones hit my head. There were people around me who seemed to consider that fully understandable. (The police showed no interest either.) That, however, was the only incident that happened there; nobody interfered with my life in any other way.

In the second town, among other things a slogan was painted on the wall of my home, another bucket of liquid was dumped over me, people still sometimes yell all kinds of abuse at me, locks started getting picked, vandalism was carried out in my apartment when I was out, and lots and lots more.

I was utterly flabbergasted by it all, didn’t know how to explain it. I initially did not even realize that I was being bullied. I initially thought that I was dealing with someone with some kind of serious personality disorder because a lot of it was done anonymously and I didn’t even know anyone here. I often felt that I sounded like a complete idiot if I talked about what was going on because it made no sense.

Here’s the thing. It’s not only affected my income situation very badly, it’s also affected me very badly psychologically. It’s like you’re constantly under siege, in a guerrilla-type war situation. I often feel like I am only a shadow of who I used to be, was depressed for a long time and am still often very angry and negative.

I kept a big stash of painkillers for years. That way I could tell myself that if things really got so bad that I could not bear it any longer and had no other options left, I could take the pills. The problem with bullying is that you have so very few options left as a result of the bullying, and most people fail to realize that. It becomes impossible to live your life, for practical reasons. Even if a bullied adult or family moves away in the same town, the bullying often still continues and the windows get smashed again etc. Children have even fewer options. Suicide is actually a way of grabbing control over your life back from the bullies.

If you think that any of the above may be useful, feel free to use it in the court proceedings, and if you need more, let me know, but for now, all I want to do is let Adriana’s father know that I am so sorry for him and his family, so sorry that they have to go through this. In addition, I want to thank you for supporting them and taking this to court.

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After I just got fucked in the arse by my anonymous hacker(s) again, I decided to post the above e-mail that I had just sent. My days are filled with nothing but abuse. I haven’t been allowed to support myself since I moved to this vile, sadistic incel-flavored shit show of this town called Portsmouth (Hampshire, England), in early 2009, regardless of whatever or whoever the hell is behind all the vile incel-flavored abuse.

What goes on in this shit show of a town is so unimaginably VILE and BIZARRE that I avoided talking about it for a long time, because it is all too unimaginably fucked up and bizarre for words. I have no words for it and no explanation (that is, until I discovered the incel phenomenon).

I want out of this hell. I want my goddamn life back.

I am now also posting what I wrote to a bunch of colleagues recently, that is, to Robyn Hannigan, with ccs and bccs to others, as follows. The control I talk about in that e-mail refers to things such as someone else out there controlling who I get to interact with, who supplies my electricity (and before that, my broadband and telephone), whether I get to eat or not, get to have a shower or not and many other things, such as changing my contact data in HMRC databases and various things at Company House, picking my locks, messing with things in my flat and what not (and constant gaslighting on my screen about how stupid I am and people in this town conveying that opinion in a myriad of ways, too; if something like this goes on for 15 years, it does affect you).

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Dear Robyn,

I need help. I want my life back. I deserve to be able to live MY life, not some limited, abusive incel-flavored version of it. Contact the police here and/or contact local city council leader Gerald Vernon-Jackson and anyone else you can think of who might be able to make a difference. Get others to do the same.

It was YOU who approached me in Boston, Robyn, when I convened that AGU conference session. It was not the other way around. So you saw value in me and I believe that you were right about that. My life in England has been a bloody nightmare for far too long. I haven’t been able to do much of anything since I moved to Portsmouth at the start of 2009. (My website has details.)

This message is going to a few people who know me, a few who don’t really know me but have worked with me and one person who does not even know me but who has kindly contacted Gerald Vernon-Jackson before, after I came home to another act of vandalism in my flat. That was in 2019. For reasons that I have explained on my website, I asked for Councillors Steve Pitt and Lynne Stagg to be present when GVJ and I met, but he certainly did not even inform Lynne Stagg.

I am not perfect. I am merely human, but the fact that I am not a white male and am not in my twenties or whatever this abuse is about does not mean that I deserve to have my entire life sabotaged to death. I’ve been stuck in a nightmare of abuse in Portsmouth since I moved here in early 2009. Things have gotten worse and worse and worse.

I need out. I need to get the opportunity to get my life back on my feet. I have great bouncebackability, but if needed, I will seek the assistance of a specialized psychologist who can help me deal with any after-effects of not having had much control over my own life since I moved to Portsmouth.

I deserve better.

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I have made FOUR escape attempts (five if you count the time I walked into the ice-cold sea). Vernon-Jackson, Donna Jones, Penny Mordaunt and Stephen Morgan haven’t been running a town. They’ve been running what effectively amounts to being a domestic terrorism or human trafficking / modern slavery / other random vile abuse hotspot. It is not at all “sweet idyllic historic Chichester-by-the-Sea” or Penny Mordaunt’s version of that.

Get this, too. When I am not looking, the criminals who have been making my life a living hell for nearly 15 years now also change content on this site. They remove images and text and rewrite some. I can’t possibly police that all day long.