Tamagotchis and their keepers

Stalkers don’t like to be called stalkers, generally speaking. The person in question can get really angry when you call him or her a stalker and call his or her behavior stalking. It can make the person more determined and feel more justified.

However, until you do, the person may not realize at all that he is causing you distress and is very likely breaking the law.

Stalking is mostly done to women, by men. So that is how I talk about it.

I on the other hand strongly dislike the word “victim” and I am not very fond of the word “target” either.

Strangers or vague acquaintances who stalk us and who want to control every aspect of our lives may not really care whether we live or die. “When one dies, we can always find another one.”

That means that we are like tamagotchis to them. How much stuff can a tamagotchi take before it dies? If a tamagotchi dies, you can just get another one.

(Tamagotchi = digital pet, a toy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tamagotchi)

What happens if a Tamagotchi dies?

https://www.amazon.com/ask/questions/Tx1RNAG6ZIIBW6M/

So-called sadistic or resentful stalkers can keep us as if we are their tamagotchis. They determine everything that happens in our lives. That makes them our keepers, of us women who have been turned into tamagotchis.

Some of these “keepers” are manipulative sadists but others are men who have been otherized and rejected for a long time and became immensely resentful.

Some of them simply have no idea what a relationship is supposed to be like.

They take the word “provider” and start “looking after you”. They are the ones who may pick the locks to do the dishes for you. They don’t know how to communicate well and how to read cues. They find it very hard to figure out what another person wants and it may not even occur to them that different people want different things.

So some of them start keeping us as if we were pets, at a distance, because that is how they see relationships or because they think it is the only way for them to be in some kind of relationship.

Yet others know that they suck at relationships, that their relationships always fall apart, for example because they have a profound narcissistic personality disorder of which they are aware but which cannot change. They too can start keeping someone as if she were a pet, at a distance, perhaps as a way of not being condemned to loneliness.

This is more or less what I mean, but there are many different typologies:

From “What drives men who commit stalking offences and how practitioners can
best respond to their needs
“, doctoral thesis by Rachael C Wheatley (2019)

Predatory stalkers are probably the ones most people are most worried about. However, particularly rejected stalkers should be taken very seriously. It’s not true that because you were once in a relationship with someone, he won’t hurt you, yet that is how the world at large usually seems to think about this. It’s not uncommon for police officers to discount victim accounts as soon as they discover that it concerns a former boyfriend or spouse.

Unfortunately, people’s intentions are not written on their foreheads.

That’s part of the reason why people who don’t kill you or physically attack you can still “destroy” you or at least cause a great deal of upheaval.

So-called incompetent suitors are usually of least concern, but can cause a great deal of upset. These are the men I am talking about when I mention “cognitive deficits” or “cognitive differences”, rather. (What we mainstream folks consider logical often isn’t actually that logical. To people who do apply strict logic, that can be very puzzling. Their misfortune is that they’re a minority. Things could easily have been the other way around.)

These are the ones that society owes a debt too, in my view. They should have gotten (better) support.

Two examples are the stalking of Laurisa Anello and the stalking of Tracey Morgan. Tracey Morgan’s stalker had progressed into resentful stalking.

Laurisa Anello’s stalker was younger, but had been badly otherised throughout his life. It’s why he became obsessed with Ms Anello. Unlike everyone else, she didn’t ridicule him. Such men feel betrayed and confused when their attention backfires.

Laurisa Anello’s stalker didn’t understand why sending a person flowers once is nice (and can still be over the top, but will be accepted if it is only once) and why sending someone flowers repeatedly very quickly becomes annoying and creepy.

From “What drives men who commit stalking offences and how practitioners can
best respond to their needs
“, doctoral thesis by Rachael C Wheatley (2019)

I already became a tamagotchi in June 2008, but it only started getting really out of hand after I moved from Southampton to Portsmouth at the beginning of 2009.

Community harassment got thrown into the mix too, which complicated matters.

Was that the whole story?

No.

“I’m an artwork of dark and light.” Also, a dog in a top hat, whatever that means. It seems to be someone whose character may be a little like that of Eric Cartman in Southpark (as he’s suggested), aided by his entourage of disciples. He can’t change himself. He just wants to be accepted the way he is.

However, I can see that for example the two unknown young guys who greeted me near Kingston Crescent one Sunday afternoon and then emptied a bucket with liquid over me and the young woman who spread my medical test results and made fun of them (as well as of me) are not the same people as the man who I first encountered at the door to the small building in which I was living in 2008 and who hung around me frequently back in 2011.

That said, even if what I am dealing with is a highly insular community in which unknown individuals decided, when I moved onto this island, that it might be fun to organize activities aimed at making me mistakenly believe that I had an anonymous sadistic stalker, then the actions and their effects are still the same.

Again, I do not believe that this is the case.

In 2015, I discovered that the locks to my current flat had been getting picked for some time, likely a few years already. (It explained a lot of the hacking as the lock-picking provided direct access to my equipment.)

In November 2022, I found out that the locks to my previous flat – in Southsea – got picked too, and apparently by the same guy, whoever it is.

I am still trying to recall if there were any odd occurrences that happened between roughly May 2008 and December 2010 and that I overlooked at the time. I moved from Southampton to Portsmouth and Portsmouth is a really crazy place all by itself. That makes it easy to ignore weird stuff. Besides, I am in a culture that is not my own. (English humor is often pretty crazy and far from funny, though some of it is.)

Had he once asked me for coffee back in 2008 and had I declined? I remember that a guy at a Costa in Southampton – where I often used to go to, enjoy the chatter around me along with a cappuccino while doing some work – started chatting to me once, which I didn’t encourage, but I don’t think it was this guy. (Starbucks wasn’t around yet in the UK.)

Had other things happened in my flat in Southampton and later in Southsea when I was out? Things that were odd but that I shrugged about at the time? Had things mysteriously broken down?

When the wrong maintenance man turned up in Southsea, yep, I bet that was his doing too. (Heck, was that him, perhaps? Did that guy only call or did he actually stop by? Who remembers such details?)

When the heating stopped working, had that too been his doing? Easy enough to accomplish. Easy enough to fix once you know how to fix it. (Operate two faucets to add water to the system.) I called the company that made the heating but they couldn’t really help me. The internet did and so did the instruction leaflet that I had, but it was confusingly written for installers (and possibly also for maintenance folks).

The maintenance person was there for something else, not for the heater. I keep writing “was there”, so did that maintenance man show up, indeed? Whoever it was, in reality?

I do know that someone showed up claiming to be from Virgin Media Business who did not turn out to be from Virgin Media Business at all, in retrospect. I don’t think that was was him, though. But why did that happen? It was someone who I think I have seen on four other occasions or who resembled that person. Two times before, two later. I remember that particular guy because his behavior stood out. One of those occasions was during a Skype conversation that (I believed) I had set up with an Irish guy in Portugal. (I quickly broke it off.)


Part of the problem of stalking is otherization, of (some) stalkers before they become stalkers, of stalkers after they become stalkers and of targets after they become targets.

I would like to help get (some) stalkers the support they need that stops them from becoming stalkers.

I don’t think that vilifying keepers is the solution to the problem. I think that that only makes the problem worse.

What did Anthony Burstow do every time he was released from prison, and even from within prison? Hunt and hound Mrs Sant, who used to be his colleague and soon became Tracey Morgan again when her husband left her because of the stalking.

Burstow claimed that his wife’s name was Tracey too. Then he changed his last name, to that of one of Ms Morgan’s former boyfriends, and befriended another woman who he then one day tried to kill out of anger and frustration and despair. That woman’s first name was the same as that of the forensic psychologist who publicly commented on Ms Morgan’s case. Was that a coincidence or was it a “sign” for him that he had to try to befriend this colleague?

Mr Burstow’s imprisonment had not helped him or anyone else, but prosecuting him and keeping him in prison did cost society a lot of money.

On 2 October 2020, I discovered that there were elements in my experiences here in Portsmouth that were much more sophisticated versions of things that Mr Burstow had done to Mrs Sant. As far as I know, Mrs Sant’s stalker is still in prison, but in theory, he could have gotten early release at around the time the stalking of me began.

This guy in my life, too, he can’t help it, but he can get very angry and destructive – for which he sometimes has apologized later – and is often extremely controlling, with sadistic urges.

He is a hacker who works with a network of hackers and others. He gets into anything. Most of his anger appears to be toward women and he has at times been obsessed with sex and with female genitalia. He’s been picking my locks for many years. He is immensely manipulative at times.

If I had not been briefly homeless back in 2010/2011, gotten out of his grip and into the position of verifying a few things that confirmed to me, which I already knew, that I was not crazy, that I was not imagining certain things, he would likely eventually have driven me around the bend. I did not know who exactly was doing this to me, which did not help.


(Portsmouth Police, instead of lying to my face and declaring me a lunatic behind my back, you should have listened to me, asked me questions and should have investigated back then, shouldn’t you? Crimes are supposed to your field of expertise, not mine. I was later so grateful to see that a stranger actually had stood up for me against you on one of those occasions when you were painting me black behind my back. If you had investigated, merely had walked by my place a few times, you might have spotted someone going into my flat there. Then maybe all those mysterious database errors and all that other stuff might not have occurred and maybe I would still very happily be living there. I loved that location! I really really really really liked the place too, but I would have wanted it to get a little more sunshine; that was blocked by a higher building. That was the only thing that wasn’t ideal about it. Otherwise, it was a dream come true.)

He was already picking the locks back then, but I didn’t know that. I didn’t even know he existed. I later verified with Portsmouth Police whether my estate agent was known for going into people’s flats when they were out. Portsmouth Police confirmed that. From another tenant, I had heard that they went into properties unannounced when the tenants were out, to do gas inspections. They did things like turn off the gas mains and leave it off. But it had not been the estate agent who’s been going into my flat. I now know that with certainty.


He used to pretend that he was someone else and of some of the things that he did back then, I thought that it was anonymous neighbors around me who were doing them at the time, in the town that I had just moved to.

What else was I supposed to think? The person he pretended to be (digitally) is not local, after all.

I didn’t know anyone in this town. I didn’t know that he was living here.

At my third address, he was at my door again within a few days after I found that new place to live.

When I still thought that it was someone else, I thought that it was someone with a form of dissociative identity disorder (DID). I understand that people with DID need to avoid isolation, so that might be the explanation for the hacking (including listening to me via the webcam etc) and the appearance of so many different unusual characters who wanted to interact with me and wrote things like “my dad wanted me to do small-small”.

I later concluded that this other person apparently was his brother. Was it? Did they both have DID?

Next came: Do they have Asperger’s? Or perhaps a narcissistic personality disorder? (NPD) Does one have NPD or DID and the other one Asperger’s?

The problem with hacking is that unless you have a live video connection in which you can see what the person is doing on your equipment in real time, it can be anyone and the person can pretend to be anyone.

The person I am really dealing with is highly calculating and cunning and that may not gel with DID at all. I suspect that he also has a lot of self-hate, however.

He engages in a lot of gaslighting, but there are patterns in what he does; being aware of those patterns helps me stay above it and resist (recognize) the gaslighting and see the nastiness of it, when it is nasty. Gaslighting goes with NPD.

I suspect that there may be some cognitive issues too. A lot of the anger may come from that. I have seen those in two other cases of stalking too. One of those cases is local.

He’s described himself as an artwork of light and dark. After 10 or 11 at night, his dark side tends to come out, is my impression. He pulls negative (hacking) stuff usually around 2 or 3 am. I could tell in the past that he was usually occupied on Friday evenings (likely in a pub).

The dual nature could also point toward autism (taking on a different persona in the outside world relative to who he is at home).

He likes controlling all aspects of my life and (through hacking) creating a make-belief world for me on the basis of how he sees the world, or of how he has experienced life in England. And he likes to keep me isolated. He thinks – or has often tried to convey to me that he thinks – that I am dense, thick, dumb, stupid, naive and that he thinks he is teaching me how the world works.

I have often rebelled, of course. My rebellion against his actions caused more friction and more anger and more frustration inside him.

Slowly, my motto became that of the Dutch province of Zeeland.

Luctor et emergo.


https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p0dhr4wf

Stalking usually takes something from you that is very hard to get back. If you are raped, then as soon as the rape is over, you can start working on your recovery. I know what that is like because I’ve been there too, about four decades ago. (I don’t even remember any longer when exactly that happened, whereas the date and the day used to be etched in my mind.) Stalking violates you over and over and over and over and over again; while this is happening, your life is on hold.


* A huge part of the problem is otherization of victims. It enables long-term stalking, particularly of strangers by other strangers.

* Stranger-stalking of a sadistic nature may often be caused by extensive and prolonged otherization of individuals who tick a little differently than most people.

The latter is called neurodiversity. You can be a little different without that being overtly obvious to most people. This means that those others don’t take it into account. A lot of resentment can build up in such neurodivergent people, for all sorts of reasons, including failed relationships, failed careers and failed businesses.

The way that other people often pounce like proverbial hyenas on the victims of stalking behaviors offers some insight into how that works. They compound the feelings of fear and the fact that you no longer feel safe in the world. They ridicule you, reject you and drive you out as if you were a sick infectious animal in their herd. We all know that merely making different life choices than most people can already accomplish this.

That I am based in a pretty hostile (extremely insular) town where I didn’t and still don’t know anyone did not help.


Acting out

I became so damn powerless that I sometimes found myself resorting to any kind of control or power I could still get, in rebellion. Sometimes, it was things as simple as buying lots of food when I could.

I’ve found myself shouting at strangers, venting my anger and powerlessness at them. I remember a driver coming out of Albert Road who cut me off and who quickly realized that I wasn’t actually shouting at him.

I’ve also forced cars to stop for me – see me, acknowledge that I existed – when I very deliberately crossed the road, seemingly ignoring the car heading my way. I knew it could stop easily.

Because you can’t bottle it up endlessly and it’s horrible to be utterly powerless around the clock, with everyone here in Portsmouth conveniently ignoring what you’re dealing with.

(This is also why gangs exist, by the way. For people to be seen and feel that they matter, that they have some significance. )

What I’ve also done on occasion was walk around as if I was an angry toddler, very deliberately radiating that I WAS ANGRY because HE just didn’t seem to get that I was angry unless I did that. I had no other way to signal to him: “BACK OFF!” He was constantly reading the wrong things into many things I did or into my body language. It was so infuriating at times. The way he tried to convince me of the many things that were supposedly wrong with me, I got so so so fed up with that. It’s boring. It gets stale.

Back in 2008, someone already said to me that his view of reality was seriously off. Hell, yes, that person was right. Neither of us knew who we were actually talking about at the time. We still thought that it was someone else.


In 2008, I had been trying to find new premises for a few years already, without success. In 2007, I had been attacked, in Southampton, and my flat while spacious had severe drawbacks. The neighborhood was dreary. I was pretty unhappy there. So I started looking for places in Amsterdam too and was looking forward to leaving England again, where I had only planned to be 3 to 6 years anyway.

Then, yep, I became the target of an ill-understood phenomenon called sadistic stalking, which is also known as resentful stalking.

The stalking’s included a heck of a lot of hacking and lock-picking besides the community bullying and an excessive indulgence in smoke-and-mirror games.

Sadistic stalking is increasingly and often extremely controlling as well as deliberately intended to confuse and keep someone off-balance through a manipulative mix of positive and negative. It’s often intended to make someone sound crazy, drive someone crazy or make the person wonder if perhaps she really is going crazy.

It aims to create dependence. It also aims to convince that everyone else has abandoned me, except him. If only I accept his “love” then all will be well. That seems to be the message that I am supposed to get and of which I am starting to understand its truth.

The guy who became obsessed with me once stood under my window shouting that he was “true” in the middle of the night. (I was the only one who slept on that side of the building, which he knew.) That was in 2015.

This strict adherence to beliefs about what is “nice” and what is not and a rigid thinking in box-like ideas and this thing about truth and honesty, that’s part of the reason why I think that there is involvement of something like Asperger’s rather than anything else.

That would be good because that has the least negative reason for its existence and the lowest potential for negative intentions. Anger is not necessarily driven by a desire to hurt someone; hurting someone out of anger is a by-product of the anger.

But he also had to protect himself. He had learned that over the years.

It was very easy for him to control the local narrative about me because nobody knew me and I didn’t know anyone here. He operates with an army of flying monkeys, some of which are highly gullible, whereas others are unpleasant folks who enjoy seeing others miserable. Some simply get paid.

For me, it often feels like all he wants is to cause as much loss for me as possible, loss of any kind, but that likely comes from his drive to control me so that I can’t get away from him and to “look after me” because he thinks he knows what is best. Cultural differences, however, also play a role, I am sure..

When I found a wonderful place in Southsea, around the corner from the Southsea Common, skirting the sea, I was over the moon. In Southsea, there were all sorts of cute little restaurants and at least one theater. I had just stopped paying off my student loans and expected a really good year in terms of turnover, too. My expenses would be going down as well. Things were really looking up!

I moved to Southsea early in 2009. I had no idea that I had just moved to the town where the person was living… I thought I was actually moving away from trouble. I had moved toward it.

Photo taken in 2009

He may have found a way to access my secluded patio. Thinking back to the layout there, yes, it was probably doable if you specifically aimed for and knew were my patio was, which he did. There is a little alley of which back then I didn’t know that it existed. (Portsmouth has lots of little alleys, I now know.) He certainly had access to the front.

(7 Dec 2022: Oh, wait. It’s now turned out that he was already picking the locks back then. So some of that stuff on my patio may have been done from within my flat when I was out.)

Photo taken on 27 November 2022

I remember leaving my car doors open one day while I was moving some things in, walking back and forth, but deciding to start closing and locking them when I noticed a guy hanging around near the car, on the corner of Kent Road and Sussex Road. There was no space to park in front of the flat, but there was a direct line of sight between my car and the flat.

Photo taken on 27 November 2022

That may have been a coincidence but it may also have been the day when a USB stick disappeared. I later looked all over for it, repeatedly, turned the place upside down, and was cross with myself for having lost it during the move as I had only just bought it. It was returned to me almost two years later, however, right after this person made contact with me in real life again, in the second half of December 2010. That’s when I knew I had not lost that USB stick at all. It had been taken from me.

He was OBSESSED with sex, by the way, and with female genitalia. He, for example, once cut up a plastic container on the kitchen counter in my current flat (in a way that may indicate that he sees women as dangerous, hurtful traps).

One of the many objects thrown onto my patio in Southsea was a peach cut into the shape of female genitalia. One day, I found a slogan written on the white wall above my flat, with an arrow to my name. “Likes dick” (or whatever). I thought this stuff was being done by neighbors around me.

Something that happened one day in 2010 while I was sitting in on a meeting of the London Assembly together with others from Portsmouth, that was him too, come to think of it. It’s the only explanation that makes sense now, in hindsight. He was in my flat in Southsea while I was out. I noticed two things that were done inside my flat while I was out. I thought it had been the estate agent, but in hindsight, certainly knowing something else as well that I didn’t yet know back then, that makes absolutely no sense. What happened is now telling me that the person who went into my flat back then very likely has cognitive challenges. (If not, then he was deliberately trying to confuse, or upset perhaps, or he had completely mistaken something that he saw one the wall there, a statement from my American bank. I still had a bank account in the US in those days, from when I was living in the US.)

I wasn’t aware of this guy’s existence… So how could I have suspected that it was HIM?

Hindsight is 20/20!

A police officer I spoke with confirmed to me that my estate agent was known for going into properties when people weren’t home. (The police, however, knew that something else was going on as well, but as they didn’t believe me, they clearly never considered whether someone else might be going into my place. Shouldn’t they have? Aren’t they supposed to be the experts in this area?)

I tried so hard to make sense of what was going on. In 2009 or 2010, I discovered that there was a local group of men who supported women who had experienced sexual violence or something along those lines. For a while, I wondered if these were idiots who went around trying to “cure” women of the effects of repressed child sex abuse that only existed in the imagination of these men, not in the lives of these women. (Nope.)

(He was trying very hard, back then, to convince me that I was a victim of child sex abuse.)

I had no idea what I was dealing with.

I filed the first police report related to all this in October 2008, by the way. I had no idea what I was dealing with. Someone told me it was regular English humor. English humor certainly is often pretty bizarre. How do you know what’s English humor and what isn’t?

Later, I ended up residing very close to his address. And again, I had no idea of it at the time. But he’d been at my door again within days. He left a “Me to you” sticker. I still didn’t know who this “he” was at the time; that only slowly dawned on me within that year (what he looked like, and that the person pestering me might not be at all who I used to think it was).

It would take me 3, 4 years to realize that he – or one of his buddies – was picking the locks. That was also around the time when the first animal was killed. He often got very angry in those days and harbored a great deal of ill will toward me.

Was he already picking the locks when I was still living in Southampton? It seems very likely now.

It was there where I first remember having encountered him, at the entrance door to the small building, with my downstairs neighbor. I remember it because of the way he looked at me. If he had not made me feel the way he did, I would not have remembered. It made me so angry. As far as I can tell, he spent about a month in the flat under mine, during the day, back then. I could hear someone trying to be quiet in the flat under mine and that struck me as odd so I started paying some attention to what was happening. If I am right about that, that it was him, and I probably am, then he was driving a small red car at the time. I saw someone get into the car a few times. The person I saw could have been him, but was not identifiable from my window to me. I never took a photo. I should have.

I have later, in Portsmouth, tried to find that car after someone driving along Fratton Road (or the start of Kingston Road) shouted something at me from a small red car. Something about dying or suicide or whatever.

He already started thwarting whatever I did back then, in 2008, and he also already hacked into my equipment back then.

He’s hinted in the past that he and his brother were in a bad family situation, asked for help and then ended up in a situation that was much worse. I have no idea whether that is true.

I also think that he has studied other stalking cases and very deliberately developed methods that greatly enhanced the chance that he would remain scot-free.

Once, I ran into him in Fratton Road while I was out on a run, after which he messaged me something about me and my biker shorts. (They were short leggings, not biker shorts. I ordered those from Asos; they were on sale. They were delivered on a Sunday, with a candy bar in the package.)

On another occasion, in my current flat, he took around 5 pairs of colorful socks from my dirty laundry. He later added a bunch of black socks.

I’ve also found black dog hairs in food (which had not been in the food before).

In October/November 2022, some deepfake pornography seems to have been circulating here locally. (Possibly something to do with “dick’s sporting goods”?) Whatever it was not horrible, but it seems to have focused on non-white men and seems to have made white men frown a little and a few young women bemused. That, however, may have been the work of “Portsmouth“.


Below is a message that I received after I had just managed to get myself off the person’s (or someone else’s) computer network. This was intended to warn me that I had open ports.

Below is another message, one that I received in March 2020. Yes, my phones have been interfered with too and several phones have been fried because of excessive heat generation. (He always thinks I am to dense to notice anything.) He wrote this message after six months of interference with incoming client payments.


You could also say that someone is exploring how your mind works and what your true character is like. It is of course also a way to force the victim to pay attention to the perpetrator and can be seen as a scream for attention and respect.

Part of his Spiel is “I give you what you asked for, except not the way you meant it”. This could represent anger and frustration coming from someone who is autistic, who often misinterprets other people’s words. It does not have to.

A day after I typed that the last time he had been in my flat and left traces of his presence behind was quite a few weeks ago, he went into my flat again. On 15 November 2022, I think that was.

By the way, he also sometimes changes content on this website, at least on my screen. He also plays with changing content on web pages and in e-mails; the goal of that always seems to be to make me look like an idiot to local people, for example because I have bogus information about things that have happened locally. (It’s like coming across as saying that Theresa May has just been reelected as PM, while we all know that Rishi Sunak is the current PM.)

He once indicated that he had bugged my flat, but if he really did, then it may have concerned bugs placed against the ceiling of the flat below, but even more likely things such as simply making use of my phone and the sensors in it.

(However, he may have hidden bugs in places where I simply might not spot them and when they are not transmitting data, they can be hard to find: https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/women-spy-cameras-hidden-public-places-peeping-toms-a8689626.html)

He used to use my web cam. It used to be that if you said something like that to police officers, they tended to consider you a loony tune, the kind that sees UFOs coming into her flat to abduct her and all that.

Stranger-stalking certainly is not flattering or romantic, but frequently devastating. It is always a confusing and unsettling experience but prolonged stranger-stalking is rarely possible without the otherization of victims.

As I’ve explained above, I believe that it can also be the result of the profound long-term otherization of perpetrators. It causes a lot of resentment.

I often have not wanted to talk about any of this at all because that only emphasized how powerless I was. It amplified my frustration and my misery.

In September 2011, I wrote the poem “Tentacles of cling film” about it. (Check out my related bundles “Crunchy Peanuts” and “Mixed Spices” on Amazon.) On 8 September 2011 I managed to take a photo of the guy but that still didn’t tell me who he was.

I was unable to get any support, with trying to find out what on earth I was dealing with and how to limit the destruction it was wreaking in my life. I’ve made four failed attempts to get away. I’ve even once asked the police to help me fake my own death so that I could get away without being followed again. As usual when I went to the police, the mystery hacker knew about it by the end of the day.

I went to the police numerous times. It only made matters worse. They couldn’t do much, for reasons that I actually understand, but when you’re dealing with stalking, not only can going to the police enrage a stalker, the fact that the police can’t do a thing also boosts his confidence. One time, a police officer told me to do my own investigating and keep reporting back to them, but then other police officers asked me what on earth I was doing when I did that.

I’ve tried a lot of different approaches over the years, including most recently taunting him, such as calling him an itty bitty incel baby and telling him to get it over with and come kill me, to draw him out, get him to blow his top or whatever. (He does not want to be hated.)

Another time after I had been to a police station again – I think this was after another lock-picking incident – I received an e-mail a little later telling me that no crime had been committed. It looked spoofed as it came from a police station in another city. You can’t even take that to the police as the average police officer knows as much about stalking and hacking as the average homeless meth addict. They’d have told me something along the lines of “so you went to the police in that other city too and they’ve obviously looked into it and are now informing you that no crime has been committed, lady” or even “lady, it is not a crime to receive an e-mail from the police”.

I’ve been to many other places.

Now you know how I ended up learning a lot about personality disorders and other forms of human neurodiversity.

All’s well that ends well. Very slowly, things are changing. Getting better.


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