October 28, 2012    5:26pm

So I wake up this morning, afternoon really, because it's already late afternoon and of course the first thing I hear when I wake up is that fucking X woman. And of course she's pushing her favorite harassing tactic by giving me girly things just like she did when I was seven years old. Of course, he says, "Oh she is ET," and she hands me some earrings that I'm supposed to put on. And I call her a bitch and tell her that I know what she's doing, that she's just pushing that abuse that she started in 1967, which was to put a dress on me and parade me around claiming that I want to be a girl.

She started that shit in 1967, see previous post. Of course I bitch her out. And of course that harassing woman, the one who threatened me a couple years ago, is also there. And she claims and says that she is on X's side and says that they have sister T on their side along with sister J. And I really don't care because they are just a bunch of pieces of crap as far as I'm concerned. Then X start saying saying that I should tell who the original rapist was. As I always say, it's about their harassment and not about any one else.

Of course I want to leave, then along comes that obnoxious beady-headed bitch, the one who is always pushing her queer agenda on me, and starts in with her shit. I tell her to go to hell in no uncertain terms. It seems to me, that these people desperately need a transtesticle, little queer thing with a gun to its head because X and her cohorts are pushing this "he is suicidal because he wants to be a woman." thing. She is taking the abuse that she and my sister T heaped on me, and a suicidal thing at the store in 1985 and trying to make a connection between. The connection doesn't exist. I don't want to be a woman I never did. I know KS asked me at AN's house in 1985, if I had ever wanted to be a woman. I said no and she asked me a couple more times and after her badgering and saying, "Not even for a second?" I said yes. But I felt like that little six year old when I said yes. Anyway, there are previous posts on this.

X and her cohorts also have this thing about movie stars. I do remember when KS was taking pictures at AN's house and she showed me a picture of myself leaning in a doorway with a cigarette and ask me "Who are you when you do this?" I just laughed and thought of the name of an actress because it looked like a scene from a movie I saw. Also, when I came back to AN's house the first time I met KS, she told me, "Remember the second time you came through." I wondered what she meant and was thinking, it seemed to me that when I came in the door of the second time, coming back from buying some bought for AN and myself, that I was being silly or whatever they want to call it, and imitating some transtesticle thing I saw in a movie on TV.

X and her cohorts claimed that this actress, the cigarette smoking actress, is my alter ego. What a crock. As far as alter egos go, I've never really had one. I don't think there is anything close to any alter ego in me. There is a lot of associating certain things with certain people, like smoking, but those are far from being an alter ego. I know KS's profiling with her questions and answers makes me look like W1, W2, and MH, and they could twist that around into being multiple personalities if they wanted to.

That's the way it's been with waking up lately. I have to go through that X's shit every morning just so she can get me riled up and then she can complain and control things along with her cohorts. And then her fucking friends show up. There's this one guy, kind of short, who has been screaming at me for a long time. He seems to be the same person who I saw that day in the Navy, the one I saw in the bathroom who kept taking my hand with a gun in it and putting it up to my head and telling me to look in the mirror. And he's just running around with all these papers or whatever, and pushing his stupid agenda. This is either Fatso from 1985 or my Uncle J, who is friends with X. Don't like either one of them.

So I guess it is going to be the usual day today, having to listen to those people twist everything around and blame every one and anything else but themselves, and trying to turn all their abuse and rapes into just a queer head problem. But, like I've been saying/thinking, I won't have any part of it. I'm not going to help them turn their abuse into slander against me or even that community. This same community, that they claim I just have to join and that is their so called cure, their so called therapy.

They use those queers, I don't. I told those people off, the queers, 20 years ago and I don't think there is one of them there that are buying into their "he has to join them" agenda.

And this beady-headed woman is probably X's sister, OH. She is the one whose house we were at back in 1970 and when her son, who must've been about 9 and I was 10, said to me that his dick was getting hard, and I " took care of it" and got caught by OH. And then she called her sister X, who went through the usual abusive steps of giving me whiskey. When OH asked-- I don't know who mentioned the topic-- but it came around to who started it, who taught me that. And then X's husband said something to me like, "It was…" and then he motioned with his head for me to finish up the sentence. I must have known what he wanted but I wasn't saying it and X told me to say it. So I said the name of the girl who lived next door at the time.

I remember looking over at OH and she was, I don't know if she was drunk or if X gave her some sedative, but she looked out of it. And then she asked her sister if my mother knew. And then OH turned to my mother and said how sorry she was that was such a terrible thing, and I was just kind of laughing. Even today when I think of that, I just think that she was so gullible and I wonder if she still is to this day.

So, that's generally how it's been going for the past several months. I wake up and X starts in with her crap, the dress wearing abuse she starred in 1967, an her accomplices join in. Of course, they keep saying that they are helping me and insinuate that I just have to join that crowd and they are just helping me get over this queer stuff that they are trying to push as their therapy. Like I said, anything and everything that they ever did is not the issue, they claim it never happened, and they claim that they know better. They lie.

They always say they can prove different but it's their manipulation of facts and events that they show to people, as I believe they do. I remember back in 1986 when I joined the Navy and went to the induction place in Cleveland, and weird things happened, I walked into an elevator with some guy, I think it was that guy who is now pushing their lies, and he said to me, "You are going to hell." I said, "I know, but I don't know why."

He is also the one who said that his story is the only one that will come out. And from what I gather, what I've been piecing together the past few years, it centers around the time when KS asked me if I knew any cops. This was back in 1985 at AN's house and KS was playing question and answer.

This so called story that he wants to tell is total fabrication, actually a dangerous lie. When KS asked me if I knew any cops, I said that I did not. And then she was talking to someone next to her saying that I was lying and that other woman told her to ask me again. KS said, "Really?" And then I thought of that woman next door, the one who X and her husband pegged as the original rapist, she had ended up marrying a policeman.

So his story goes, if it is that guy or someone who is helping him, that I was snitching on the people who I bought a pot from. That I was some kind of go between for information. The fact is I would never even consider doing that. I do remember KS asking me what I would do if I ever got in trouble. I assume she was talking about reselling some pot to AN. I said I wasn't worried because at most I would get $100 fine because I don't carry or even ever possess any amount that would get me in more trouble than that. I said I would say nothing. And I said I would let other people speak for me. She said, "Oh, let other people speak for you."

But the more interesting thing is that someone asked me if I could point out his wife to the pot sellers, and I remember seeing her on a playground leaning over, and talking to some child. She became a school teacher. It looked like a photograph, not a real live event, and I pointed to her and said that is her. I think this was just contrived by those people themselves, that next door neighbor girl and her husband the cop, as an excuse to get in and starts screwing me over to shut me up. Not about any of his police work, but something that happened between my sister J and her way back.

I believe this because for a long time those two have said that I have to admit to helping them, and that I should put it in writing and just to agree with them that snitching is what I was doing, telling on pot sellers to him. I don't sign or agree with them at all. I tell them to get the hell out of my life and I'm not going to lie for them, or for anyone else for that matter. They are the ones who caused that episode at that store, McC's, in August of 1985. I do remember at that time they said that I was just a conduit, a go between. Then I was taking information from one side and giving it to the other side. Did not know at the time what the hell they were talking about.

AN was the only person who ever asked me what the pot seller's name was, and I never told her for five years until about May 1985, see previous post. Things could never have been like that guy claims because those pot sellers had me under the first time I met them. If I had agreed to what this guy says, about being a snitch, they would have known because it would've been on my mind and I'm sure they would find out because that's one of the reasons to put people under in the first place, and also to find out if the customer is a drinker or a hard drug user because they did not like that. What's more, this pot seller mentioned a long time before, that he knew cops and sheriffs. Why would he need to worry about anything?

So this guy and his wife, it seems to me, are using that as a cover as to why they had to screw me over. That her life was in danger from me pointing her out, they had to screw me over. It was really a matter of her personal life, not his job as an undercover cop, that they were interested in fucking me over for.

A thing between that woman and my sister J was something I sister J told me when she was 7 back in about 1972 was something personal. And I do remember these people, cop and wife, saying that I must have been peeping on that woman if I had known that. But I have never been in the upstairs to that house because that's where the bedrooms were. So as I gather, those two have a couple of idiotic stories about me. I was never a snitch for any one, until now I suppose, and nor was I a peeping Tom.

That's basically the rut that the voices have been in the past few months. Have X set up the whole fucking day with "You have to accept this women thing I'm pushing on you." She's the only one who needs that because she claims that when I went over to her house with my parents the day before I left for the Navy that I wanted her to help me get out of going. This is a lie. When I stood up to leave, I remember hearing her ask me, "Do you remember what we talked about?" I thought, "What? Dress up like a queer or something to get out of going? No. I'm not doing that, that's illegal. I'm not doing that." More information about this is in a previous post.

So, they constantly harass, call me girl names, and use the pronoun she when referring to me. It's totally ridiculous, and even had me C, as in copy, females. It used to be a bunch of drag queens that they kept showing me, and what I thought that no one would ever buy into that anyway, because it is just so blatantly ridiculous looking and there's nothing original about these copies, they showed me that woman who showed up a couple of years ago and said well there is an original one to copy. How ridiculous of them.

A few weeks ago, I remember X saying how I never did anything for her and that I should just put on the dress just one time for her. Not happening. Even when I was peeing, I heard her voice saying, "Why don't you sit down to pee?" She even thinks I should sit down to pee for her. She just needs an imprint she can wake up later on when she's putting on her dog and pony shows for the public, or God forbid a shrink or anybody like that.

I'm hearing right now that woman who is pushing her queer agenda on me saying, "Let me tell you something." I don't need her to tell me a damn thing. Like I've said for decades they should leave me alone, I'm not buying into their crap, and there is no way that I would let them do this to me at all. That one woman always claims that she got permission from me at the store in 1985 when she said, "Can I hypnotize you?" And gave me something to drink. I'd mention this before, that she could play that over and over without my even knowing it and get away with all of her harassment and crap by claiming I let her do it.

Not much going on otherwise. Just working and listening to those fools.

A Forum Post

Thursday, October 4, 2012  2:16 pm DST

Another post from a forum post about flashbacks and what's real and what's not.

I have no trouble distinguishing between what's real and what's not. I got a lot of abuse of various kinds by relatives and their ex-friends, mainly between the ages of 7 to 10. I never forgot it nor the abuse heaped on me to cover it up. Things like training other little kids to call me a liar even though I never had said anything about it. They made me watch some guy beat his daughter with a belt to keep her quiet and then ask me if I wanted that to happen to me. Later, I heard that girl's mother tell my mom that they kept her daughter home from school because of the whooping cough, but that woman said to me, "You don't want that to happen to you, do you? You don't want the whipping cough, do you?" I knew what she meant even though I was only nine. She's a real piece of work, that woman is.

You mentioned the first grade. That reminds of their favorite cover-up game. It was "get him drunk and throw his sister's dress on him and parade him around teachers or whoever and dare them to take the word of a drunk cross dressing 7 year old." I remember that clearly because the teacher told that woman and my mother, "We don't believe your story. It sounds fishy." I interrupted and asked what "fishy" meant and the teacher basically had to explain to me that she thought they were liars, and right in front of them, too. That teacher turned out to be my fourth grade teacher also, and I remember she told me that she took over the fourth grade just for me. I didn't get it back then, but I did years later. I'm betting that she's one of the few people who stared them down back then.

As late as 1986 that woman's grown son came into some gas station I worked at and handed a coworker a note for the coworker to ask me what nationality I was, and then he answered before I could. Also, there was a woman who came into the station and said, "Someone told me to come in here and call you (nickname)." Then she just looked at me. I said, "I think somebody has their head up their ass." That nickname she mentioned was what that abusive woman's family called me back then. It's was all on recording security cameras in the station. Basically, people I didn't know were bringing up things I didn't like to talk about and it's not a coinidence that the woman's son would be involved in doing that. He was only about 3 or so during the peak abusive years and most likely doesn't remember (his dad pulled a clump of hair out of his head before beating his daughter).

So it isn't a question of recovered memories or anything like that because I could have told everything about those days when they first happened. My parents stayed friends with those abusers for a very long time afterwards. After the sz in 1985, the voices I have are counterparts to those abusers and witnesses. And basically, it's them telling me things like, "You're never going to be complete until you try to kill yourself for real." Or, "You're not competent enough to tell the story of your life." Basically, the voices claim that they have rewritten everything I would want to say about those days, and no one will believe me since they already got me to agree to their lies and they have played it out in public without my realizing it.

How do I cope? I wrote it all out in a journal/blog. Everything I could remember about my life. It took over a year to do and it wasn't that hard at all. No matter how much the voices want to put me on the defensive about everything, I'm not a criminal and I don't feel like one, either.

Anyway, your question was about flashbacks, and no, I don't have any. I have auditory hallucinations that are a rehash of the truth and listening to them lie about me and the past. It's easy for me to dismiss the ridiculousness. As for sz episodes, I've learned that what you remember at the time is just about all you're going to remember. Filling in the blanks of an episode is a waste of time, for me anyway.

Like you say in your profile, "It is what it is." And the past is what it was. No changing that.