My kind of stalking is the kind that seeks to destroy a person completely. Apparently, these folks very carefully look for a specific type of person and then set out to ruin them.
When people like Gerald Vernon-Jackson, Grant Murphy and Roger Downey express that it’s perfectly normal for a highly educated woman to be stuck in deep poverty for many years, often unable to call or email other people, and when people like Roger Downey openly mock such a woman when the prolonged poverty very clearly starts to affect the woman’s physical health and her powerlessness is also otherwise making her utterly miserable, that’s their misogyny talking. (What else could it be?)
It’s probably that same kind of misogyny that’s seeking to destroy within the stalking context.
For so long, first, only Stephen Morgan’s staff responded to my emails. Made zero sense. The responses were no more than words. No action. No actionable information.
Now, for so long, the only person I can reach is one guy near Amsterdam whose old address continued to be under his emails even though he had relocated to an address that I don’t have?
Once again, everyone else, literally everyone else has dropped off the surface of the earth?
I’m afraid that I just gave out the only bit of information that held a small spark of hope.
You see, Gerald, Grant and Roger, my home country is overregulated and extremely densely populated. Unlike in the UK and the US, you cannot simply go live somewhere in the Netherlands. There’s even a concept called “address fraud”. You need formal permission to live somewhere in the Netherlands and until you have that kind of permission, that official registration that ties you to a specific address, you cannot apply for any type of benefit in the Netherlands and these two things are locked up in a chicken and egg dance.
Folks in the Netherlands cannot simply allow me to register at their address either, because this often has financial consequences for them.
So after all these many years without income, here in Portsmouth, and in view of my inability to reach people through digital means, because of the hacker, unless I had enough money to put myself up in a hotel for two months or so, feed myself and buy a laptop and other necessities so that I could start generating income again I’d be street homeless without access to any kind of income in my home country.
I’ve been through this before. Back then, an aunt and uncle let me register at their farmhouse. That enabled me to get a foothold in my country after I returned from the US after the funding for my PhD collapsed. After 18 months there, I finally had an address of my own again, but up to then, I had been fortunate enough to be able to rent – with formal permission laid down in an agreement, from a woman, a nurse, who was moving to somewhere close to Winchester and didn’t want to give up on her Dutch base right away.
Desperate, I let Roger Downey know some time ago that I was extremely concerned about my situation, and about certain threats that my hacker had issued. But Roger simply merely mocked me. Without a word of explanation.
Last week, Roger expressed that he still believes that I had no reason for concern. He still believes that I was merely being silly when I expressed my concerns?
(He also said that we had never gotten along. That’s rich. I don’t think that he and I have ever even had a conversation.)
I’m better educated than Gerald Vernon-Jackson but Gerald, Grant and Roger consider it perfectly normal that I got stuck in deep income poverty from the moment I moved to Portsmouth.
… then why couldn’t they fathom that they’re not the only ones with such a deep-seated hatred for women and that there are unbalanced people out there, men, who deliberately set out to thwart everything that someone like me might want to do?
“I’m coming for you to cut off your nipples” wasn’t intended to flatter me, Roger, or to make me smile.
No, I don’t think that someone will literally cut off my nipples.
I’m concerned about whoever it is out there who wants to cause as much loss and hurt in my life as possible.
Because he seems to be pretty good at it.
I am scared and concerned because I just stupidly gave someone details of a membership that I still hold in the Netherlands. Because I am still stuck with zero options and grabbed at a straw. I’m scared and concerned that that membership will soon, say, mysteriously have disappeared. Or its details changed.
That’s malicious hacking for ya, nothing to be concerned about. After all, I only have nearly 15 years of experience with it.
Look at the results of it.
When I expressed that I was seriously concerned, Roger, I had damn good reasons to be seriously concerned.
Do you still disagree with me on that?
But then, someone in the US sent me some really reassuring information.
There’s a male equivalent here near (not in) Portsmouth and also someone else who’s been trying to protect me from him, it looks like? Someone whose thinking is a little different?
True, I had no idea that people like him can really latch on to a person and refuse to let go. That’s not even been about me at all. It’s about his idea of me, I suppose. His view of what people like me are like?
I still wish I knew who exactly I was dealing with here in Portsmouth and I still wish we could have gone for a coffee, beer or pizza a few times and just talk. Because that would have helped immensely and could have led to a much better outcome for me here, I think. I’m not good at these English guessing games.
Can we still do that, now or later?
I suppose that my membership information will be fine then after all. Good to know. I’m not keen on returning to that concrete jungle. Yes, I like the plethora of culture and events there, the networking opportunities, but there’s more to life that other places do have.
The following has been the big problem for me. This.
Unless the person establishes a live video connection with you and shows you what he or she is doing in your equipment, you have no idea really of who exactly it is and what the person’s intentions are. There’s no dialogue.
He’s out of my equipment now, by the way. Off my internet connection.
I’ve always figured that I would likely set up a weekly appointment with a shrink in the aftermath of all of this, once it finally got to that point, to make sure that I was getting back on track again. Moving on. Just someone to watch out for me for a little while.
I think I will also need to sit down with someone to choose a professional direction. (That could be the same person. Some kind of shrink.) The hacking made me focus on anything that would help limit any hacking-related damage. In addition, the immense poverty and misery in Portsmouth often made me focus on ways to alleviate that. That was dumb. I need to figure out why I did that. Because there is something unhealthy about that.
I also think that I was willing to let some people experience the extent of the bizarre chaos that (my) life in Portsmouth was while I was shielding others from it, sometimes even pretending that all was fine and dandy. I need to sort that out too. Why I did that and whether it was the right thing to do. In one case, I did that to shield that person’s mental health but I am not sure if that was the right thing to do.