Today I am thankful for some of the stupid crap I do.
I don't know how much to share.
I have....maybe....let's see....1.....2.....3....4....5.....6....seven blogs.
Yep, seven.
Many of them are defunct. I stopped posting to them after the divorce when the stalking became madness and this crazy creepy dude threatened to show me what stalking was really like.
He didn't stalk me so far as I'm aware. He just sent me many, many creepy messages.
I monitor these blogs each and every day.
I do that to gauge whether or not the same local IP visits.
I could be insane or wrong.
Now, when Shannon hacked me, she used a Westminster IP. She used a Mac with Chrome.
When someone sent me threatening messages claiming to be with the City of Aurora auditing department, I traced the IP to a Starbucks near the city building.
Shannon was more educated than the person that wrote the message I got from the alleged city auditor. Shannon could spell and put people down without calling them fat. The Tax Audit Supervisor always had an issue with hamburgers and weight. Those were the extent of her put downs (in the newspaper forums and emails).
Whoever wrote those messages to me knew that. Back then, I was vegan so her annoying messages truly cracked me up.
Who knows who it was?
To be completely honest, those messages could have been sent about anybody who knew my ex had a tiff with the city and bought coffee at the Starbucks near Buckley and Iliff.
On some sick level, I monitor all of my websites to get a sense of who is watching.
Much of what is in my mind is a daydream.
I fantasize that the people reading this in Russia are trying to learn English so I try to throw in some colorful phrases. The reality is that many people in Russia speak better English than I.
I daydream about the people in Spain laughing at how inept Americans are -and- since much the borderline personality research I've seen comes from that country, I can imagine that they laugh about how inability of U.S. researchers to study personality disorders in an unbiased fashion.
I also daydream about the accent.....I love Spanish accents....it's so passionate and so beautiful.
American English is flat.
Hits from Alaska remind me of people I miss corresponding with in North Pole. I took in a homeless kid who hails from Alaska. I think she's trying to get me to consider moving there.
When I see hits from Poland I wonder if they are long lost relatives. I have to qualify that. No where in my family history does anyone claim Polish descent. I love the culture, so I assume there must be a reason.
It's fun to daydream in the wee hours of the morning when I write.
I do have people contact me.
I have had other women reach out to me who have been in similar situations. I try not to allow contact on this blog but it has been known to happen.
On Facebook, I have contact with other people who've lost relatives to domestic violence. I don't think they learned about it here. I'm not exactly secretive.
I'd like to think that I'm not paranoid, I just monitor things just to get a sense of what is going on.
When there are few hits, it's okay.
When the same IP reads the same posts over and over day after day, I get a little concerned especially if it tracks across numerous blogs.
That hasn't happened for awhile.
I'm wondering when I'm finally free to let go and be me. When can I stop tracking everything?
Why do I track everything?
I think stalking victims need to have a sense of control over their environment, a way to keep track of things and a way to get a sense of what is going on.
It's like having a camera trained in every part of the yard.
You want to know what is going on.
I also write things that are real so I can keep track of what happens and when. I basically have a record of most of the times my home, office or car has been broken into.
Some stuff isn't important. Some stuff is out and out silly.
The details are important.
That way, if I turn up blue, the cops can find a trail of crumbs.
******
Recently, I've become afraid that my computer is hacked.
I'm not quite sure yet.
But -
When I read some of my posts (in this or other blogs), I notice that the same IP address reads them within 24 hours.
It doesn't matter if I'm reading this blog or another of my blogs.
I've been blogging since 2001! There is a lot of material out there. A lot of crap and a lot of decent stuff.
There is a lot of .....stuff.
So....it may be nothing.
NO, it's not my IP address. It's not my operating system.
If I read something, I can count on someone else reading the same thing within 24 hours.
Also....
My encryption software is malfunctioning. It turns itself off.
Weird, eh?
Maybe taking screenshots would help me keep track of it.
Sometimes you need evidence so you'd feel less......crazy.
I need evidence so I can keep track of things.
The human brain likes to create patterns in everything. It's geared to find explanations.
Patterns can disappear or become clearer with documentation.
*******
It didn't bother me too much until it started to escalate in frequency. If I read 4 blog posts and this IP hits those four, it could be a coincidence, right?
If I read twenty posts and this IP reads those same twenty posts, I grow more concerned.
It could be nothing.
Maybe?
*******
One of the reasons I write is due to the stalking.
I have a choice. I can hide or I can be alive and open.
Hiding tended to bring the stalker to my door.
Being open, but not too much so, tended to cause it to decrease.
If I do anything that puts me in the spotlight, I tend to pay for it with increased harassment.
If I do a little bit here....and a little bit there....it's almost like saying I'm here. My life is hell. There is no more havoc that can be caused to make my life worse.
I get the sense that is what the stalker wants - to believe I'm hurting, or poor or crazy.
To me, stalking is a situation where someone is checking up on you.
They crave that intimacy with you.
The NEED to know what is going on with you - be it real or not.
Seriously, their lives are fantasy so it doesn't truly matter if the content is real or fraudulent.
They just NEED to check in. They need that sense of intimacy.
That is the function of some of the writing.
There were times when I didn't post and Shannon or someone else would show up or there would be a ding and dash complete with a paper burning on my porch.
On some sick level, I think posting crap keeps them out of my window.
I did notice that when I started to write about it, the harassment picked up initially and then started to dwindle.
It was like they needed to know I was alive....
but NOT doing fine.
So, if it helps. I'm morbidly obese, going gray, celibate and smell like a rhino's rear end.
******
I'm going to get my computer checked out....again.
I'll fantasize about changing my name......again.
I'll wonder if these are all coincidences or real.
I'll wonder what could happen if I got so busy I can't blog anymore.
Actually, I had a guy on Fiverr offer to take over for me.
$5 a blog post. $35 a week.
That's cheaper than Starbucks.
In reality, I have an expensive kombucha habit that makes Starbucks sound like a penny candy. I've finally learned the secret to brewing kombucha so it doesn't taste like vinegar.
Maybe I'll tell about it sometime.
Hint: I wasn't adding enough water to the brew. It also helps to let it ferment a couple more days after adding flavor.
******
The whole stalking crap is strange.
It started in 1992.
It's not romantic stalking.
I'm not the kind of person one would want romantically. I'm rather plain. I'm not pretty. I'm not loaded. I'm not a gymnast.
Mike claims his family is doing it. That's not exactly true. They were doing it but he told them where I was and what was going on. He told them stories and they acted on them.
Blogging helps me direct the narrative so to speak.
It's almost like I pissed someone off and they want to teach me a lesson.
Why?
Why do that?
Michael said it was to run me off.
I wonder...is that what they want?
One would think that if that is what they wanted, they'd have let me give the house to Michael first.
I think there is something more.....
I think it started off as a ruining campaign.
It's like they want to ruined my reputation. They would complain that I thought I was perfect.
Hell, I've had more important people bitch that I think I'm "all that." [evil giggles]
The problem with that, though, is that no crap they spread about me could beat the craziness I write.
I guess I'll never know what happened.
I guess it doesn't matter.
I just have to do whatever it takes to stay safe.
I'll have to give myself the same advice I give my clients.
You can't get into the head of people who don't think like you.
It's not worth the time.
Enjoy your madness,
S.