Two men on the street say, “she is in better condition than they are.’The part time shoe guy is not full of comments too. I have witnessed this several times lately.
University student: “so when we were talking about her at the Library, she was the one sitting across from us at the word processor.”Two city employees discuss the Gossip festival that is the city norm:” Do you live here” one asks the other. “No I don’t,” stated the other. The first then stated, “I live in (the city next to this one), and I used to think it would be easier to move over here and be closer to the job, but after watching the behaviour here, I am glad that I don’t live.”Mike (387) is on the bus. This guy has been gossiping with me as his topic for the entire time, over fifteen years now.
At a six-plex, that is off a side street near me where I claimed I heard a group of residents sitting outside discussing me as I walked by he spots a couple of his fellow drinkers and buds and they gesture back and forth to each other. One of the people seen by me at another time is a guy with the first initial “T” who lives on Paisley and who has also been seen with the guy I call ‘Intrepid’ who has been seen at the mall with some of the others including a university professor now retired who has discussed me with a camera store guy, while sitting directly in front of me on the bus, which I was apparently not to see then either. Another drinker from the same address on Paisley has been seen in the company of a new neighbour just down the hall from me.There is a ‘breakfast club’ meeting once again in the building where the rumour is once again passed along like a sure ‘sign’, ‘she thinks bus drivers are talking about her.’One of my next door neighbours has a daughter working at one of the nursing homes where I used to get work. This is also the nursing home where my protagonist’s wife worked and where the one who was alleged to have put him directly in touch with my landlord, who was also alleged to have let him right into my apartment, also worked. So do, or did, several of the psychiatric hospital’s former employees who were involved in the whole thing and then pretended they were not. They also involved other employees of my health care agency and all had a great time practicing their diagnosis of my ‘mental illness’ there, or so it is ‘alleged.’
All of this is supposed to be a complete mystery to me as far as those doing it are concerned, and it is also considered to be nothing but my paranoid delusions and hallucinated conversations as far as the psychiatrists are concerned. The only one who sees this as reality in fact, is me; with the exception of the guy who planned it of course and he is pretending to be mystified too since that is part of his routine. Everyone else has an ‘interpretation’ of what is going on with me, preferably from a nice safe self protective distance away, and anyone else’s’ ‘interpretation’ of the event is considered to have far more value than my own.
So my new neighbours get together and discuss me, in ‘secret’ of course as though they were all the best boundaried and privacy respecting people around. They have pointed out to each other that ‘they don’t know how to separate information so they cannot tell the difference between fact and fallacy.’ This of course strikes me as quite the absurd humour and if you knew all the facts, it would likely strike you the same way. You see those who are DOING all the gossiping are defining themselves too since they are really just the same as us, and don’t really know it. That is what makes it so often absurdly funny.
Two boys about thirteen look at me and one says, “I can see her working for Homewood following people around can’t you?’ (har har) This fits in with another round of the rumour that Homewood wants me to work for them as a ‘consumer,’ a designation I have never used and never would. I am not here to promote the bio-medical model and I never will. Nor have I any interest in violating the personal boundaries of psych patients while pretending I am not doing that.
A woman who works for the university, and who takes same bus now that I do, has been heard by me, discussing me, at the university with others. She also just happens to live on Woodycrest, as does one of the bus drivers (TC) who has been watching to see where I live with others who aren’t’ doing any such thing either, officer/doctor. The No Frills cashier/university student and her Produce section brother (?) get off the bus at my stop and say to each other, ‘we will watch and see where she goes.’ (Just in case the bus drivers hadn’t pinned that down quite yet, which they have of course, thanks to my new and mouthier neighbours who always have to be spreading all the latest crap and expressing their evaluations of it too.
Also heard on the bus as passed along by one of my neighbours in the next building, “That’s her. Now they are telling everyone she is a ‘schizophrenic.’” (This confirms the observations by me and the earlier rumours that the Housing employee is giving all the neighbours a psychiatric diagnosis. Too bad she doesn’t quite have the right one. But I am sure my new friend will straighten this all out for them at the next bus stop mental illness conference.) Thank God the whole town is filled to the brim with respect for others and thanks also for the ever popular ‘confidentiality.’
The Town Crier has now spent HOURS with the Save Mart employee (formerly the Silver Dollar employee who got all her news and ‘interpretations’ from Mrs. Harry the handyman, assistant to Dale Tuck and Sean M. A young blond woman on the #3 bus fills in the driver on today’s’ event. (August 8th)It went like this: “When he walked in, she looked up and said, “Well hi there…and how are you doing now?” and “he’ said, “You lied to me.“ You could just see her shaking eh? I just stood there and didn’t say a word.”A male ‘student (I think) with a back pack walks right by me at the downtown bus stop as I wait in the square. He sees his ‘opportunity’ so he pretends to be pulling on his strap on my side of him and as he gets right to me he says quietly, from the side of his mouth, “bitch.”
The Donut Lady connects with a Riverside Glen employee, and then on the bus connects again to a woman who I believe used to (and perhaps still does) work for the Manor unit at the psych hospital. A long involved and apparently very amusing discussion takes place. This is not a surprise to me though as I have already witnessed the Donut Lady many times mocking and ridiculing the ‘crazies’, doing nasty whining impressions of them and ‘entertaining’ others including bus drivers, with tall tales of her neighbours. Perhaps the Donut Lady needs her own ‘medication’ increased.
The next morning my ‘friend’ identified me for another person which no doubt is according to the stories she too likes to tell, with me as her topic of amused contempt. Of course this is all being kept ‘secret’ too by the hundreds or now thousands of people who have an opinion to offer daily on me and every nuance of my life despite the fact they don’t actually know me. The DO know all their own stories about me though and that is good enough for most of them. The woman for whom she identified me was very rough looking and I could not mistake the sneer of contempt which flashed across her face. I see it a lot. (No doubt the Psych hospital staff will have to redefine that in whatever way makes it my problem and no one else’s. The most popular way is to perform the ‘switch’ and claim this in not happening and “really’ these are just my own opinions about myself. See how neat that works? The ghost of Sigmund looking for ‘hidden’ meaning everywhere even though there is none never seems to leave.
Man on the street: “what’s her website called?”
Answer: "CounterPsych".
Two belligerent male twenty somethings put on a little skit for me on the bus. It seems another round of death threats of the ‘uttered’ variety is in order once again. One nudges the other: ‘That’s her,’ says Numbskull no 1.
Numbskull 2: “The hearse has already been booked.”
The usual abusers are escalating again as they generally do every time they get a new piece of crap with me as the ‘subject’ to assess and evaluate.
Donut Lady has a new story with which to express her ongoing disdain for me. She allegedly informed a psych hospital employee that I had ‘bags and bags of stuff’ when I moved in so that proves that I do not need to be there. (Unlike poor legitimately suffering her of course) This of course, is not in any way logical since so do others have ‘stuff’ and not only that, many of the people who live there have huge amounts of money and very good RRSP’s as well. I do not. But then ‘logic’ is not what all this is really about is it? Neither is it about what is ‘fair.’ Housing sends out notices about buying your own condo if you are there with an income of 69,000 a year or more! (This is more than three times what I ever made in my life.) She, like all the others also, don’t know the state of poverty I am in, or why I am here now, not that it is any of their pushy business anyway. All they really know is what their own vicious fantasy has created for them. That IS what this is about you know; the fantasy world they have created in their own heads because one brainwashed self serving twit suggested it to them. What they don’t know of course, is that THEY are the ones who are out of touch with reality.
Heard on bus: “She is quite clever.” (As opposed to intelligent- like them and for a nut, that is.)
On Sunday August the 10th, one of the neighbourhood bus stop gossips, who has expressed her opinion that I am likely ‘just ignorant’ managed to connect with one of the table wipers at the mall who was on her break. (It wasn’t the one with the mouth going all the time) I would bet you though that this allowed the bus stop gossip to bring some more ‘inputs’ (let’s use the jargon shall we?) back to the bus stop for the rest of the neighbourhood assessment team. From there it will be taken all through the neighbourhood buildings as always; but in ‘secret’ of course. .
One day this previously mentioned one and the very thin one put on another little skit for me, no doubt believing they were fooling me good on some superior level. They discussed at the open bus door whether or not they would go near me and the thin one said she was going to walk right back to where I was, which she did. They were going to see what I would do today. I did nothing at all but just look right at her and smile.
You see to understand these twits, you have to know that there little skits are believed by them to have some magical dividing line in them separating what they intend me to know from what they are acting out right in front of me. To explain it to you, you would have to understand that in this instance, I was not intended to see or hear the acting out routine at the open bus door just as they were getting on the bus. They see NO connection between my coolness towards them and all these little scenes they act out along with their disdainful opinions. That being the case, what possible reason could I have for showing such a lack of interest in being ‘friendly’ towards them? After all, I don’t know about their little skits do I? Since I don’t know, I could not be reacting to that so what could it be? Hmmmm...Must be the brain chemistry thing that makes me ‘think’ they are semi brainless wonders when really they are all just lovely normal people, all well hidden behind the ‘friendly’ mask. Well guess what? I do know them just as they are. My reactions to them are based on who they really are and how they really behave; not on what they decide FOR me I will, or will not, be aware of. I don’t talk to them because they are disdainful gossiping nitwits. They should feel happy that the worst thing they get from me is ignored. Some others would not be so generous with them. These are the kind of scenarios that often end up in sudden shootings with all the participants acting completely baffled by the whole thing and then psychiatry grabs the opportunity once again to cry, “mental illness,” meaning something all nicely contained within the identified patient and everyone else portrayed as innocent mystified bystanders. These events are neither as ‘random’ nor ‘meaningless’ as most people would like to think. In fact, I believe that MOST of them are preventable if we could just manage to get psychiatry and others to face the reality of their own creation and focus on the group instead of the identified patient who is always presented as if she lived in isolation apart from everyday reality.
Once again David G. is seen at the library pointing me out to yet another psychiatrized person. This is about four times he has done this in my presence while I stand there looking right at him. He, as many others, remains oblivious to himself and oblivious to me. That goes together. At one time I thought it was an either/or question but I know better now. The female ‘patient’ to whom he points me out laughs at his version of me. David of course, is unaware of my awareness and has made it quite clear that he believes his perception of my experience is similar to my own by the way he shares his views on it with others, in ‘secret’ of course. The latest version is now ‘spreading like wildfire’ through the psychiatrized population too. This is the same expression used by Comcare staff supervisor about Homewood (where she used to work) when I told her long before I broke under pressure that the whole hospital was acting it out all the time. She had told me then that if she knew anything (while her eyes glowed with amusement just like the staff there, and a little smirk appeared on her fact too) she, “would not tell me.”
David has allegedly told people that I am paranoid and I ‘think’ he is talking about me. Can you all HEAR that OK? He tells this allegedly to the ‘people’ I ‘think’ he is talking to.
Another psych student, male this time, plans to do his Master’s thesis on a point of view pointed out by me as opposed to using me as the ‘case’ study for the thesis. (As a female psych student has been talking about)
0
The part time Vin Joy shoe guy has been witnessed discussing his version of me once again with another psychiatrized guy in front of the popular discussion place for doing this, Capistrano’s. Shoe Guy junior is spreading the latest rumour at top speed.
Heard on street: “She writes about it all now.” Kerry. R. (seen previously talking to the guy I call “Intrepid” is now seen talking to the Gold store guy, at the downtown mall who has been heard before by me telling people I am talking to myself when I am actually calling him a jackass or an idiot under my breath, whenever I have had the opportunity to watch him acting it out for me. Later, Kerry is seen talking to another former ‘patient’ in the centre aisle while using his hands for descriptive purposes. This same person was trying to get hired at the CMHC office. (They probably have changed their name lately too) That of course, would mean that it is also likely he knows Paul who works there and also knows more than he is willing to share with me other than the usual instruction not to blame ‘others’ which was the first thing out of his mouth when I told him I had been 'set up' for an attack by a nurse at the psych hospital.
A female bus driver did not approve of my finding any fault in Paul either, and said so over the bus radio as I rode the bus to a case.
The Town Crier is at her usual post in the downtown mall, like a crow on a wire, where the gossip session never stops. She has also re-connected with ‘pinkie’ a housing resident of another building, and the two of them go into one of their little negative head shaking sessions together, something I have been able to observe many times before. The Town Crier of course, considers her blatantly obvious acting out everywhere to be a complete mystery to me, After all, she never says anything directly does she, so like the Donut Lady, she has no idea why I would be so cool towards her, which means it must be my inherently defective brain that is causing it, right? The Town Crier likes to share her opinion with the security people who in turn fill in Jeff the cop who explains to them that ‘they’ just like to claim this is all happening to (you got it) ‘seek attention.’
Old man from 387 gets on the bus at the same time as the forever righteously indignant woman I will call, “Sally” (not her real name) Sally always has her nose stuck up in the air as I am not ‘friendly’ enough to gossip with her at the bus stop like all the normal people do. Sally has expressed her contemptuous opinion of this to many, often while I am right there and yet Sally has no idea that my lack of ‘friendliness’ towards her has anything to do with her behaviour and contempt towards me. After all, I don’t know about any of it do I?
There is much of the chicken/egg paradox in this, over and over again. This day the man cozies up to the bus driver and takes the Farebox Freddy position all the way downtown. The driver today is the same one who was seen coming out of the back room of the Public Library with Frowning Franny quite some time ago when they were getting the latest from the staff there. (Then Franny wondered out loud as I walked behind them if he thought I ‘might know’ about them.)
Now this month, (and this year) A former employee of Zack’s Downtown, and later at the Willow mall, is in the library discussing this with a woman and saying it is all over St. James High as well (where my former landlord works as a teacher) This same woman was one of many getting ‘all the news’ out of Homewood from Wayne. P. who was the bus driver on the Hospital route and who both passed along all rumours as well as pumping staff and others there for more. In the am when I got on to go to work there, they all got off the bus in the square, eyes glowing with the entertainment value of all of this and the usual little smirks on their faces. Of course this too must be denied to promote the idea that this is my entire perception/reaction problem, and has nothing to do, naturally, with all these mystified people.
Of course, when I told the psychiatrists this was happening, it was reframed as my paranoid delusions because that is how all these people make sure they don’t get caught or blamed for anything isn’t it? IN 00 one of my psychiatrist (the one who made the label official; apparently there was some discussion of which one I was going to be bestowed with) actually pantomined for me what I ‘thought’ was happening which he of course knew to be delusional nonsense within the first ten minutes. He raised three fingers and looking particularly girlish and idiotic (to represent me) he said, “You think people are doing this and sort of turning away laughing at you when of course they are not. This of course indicates that you are ‘seeking fame.’ For why would this nurse or these others you believe are in this do so? They would have 'no reason to do so.'
(Everything has to be ‘reason based’ with these guys doesn’t? Unless of course it is me we are talking about. Then it all has to be a lot of irrational nonsense not worth listening to.)
Presto- Change-o! Everybody else is off the hook!
Street talk: “They thought she was an anti-Semite.” (No doubt that would be because I said I was ‘the Jew’ in this version of this little psycho- drama. You see the point of the labelling is to keep ME and only me, being the problem. Otherwise there is no problem as it certainly cannot be anyone else with a problem, can it? )
A 'he' is supposed to be 'going around with a red face' all the time now according to university students. Take your pick of which 'he' that is supposed to be since I can name at least twenty of them that should be embarrassed as hell even if they aren't.
Also heard this month: “Boy, you try to do the right thing and you get punished for it.”
(Of course as in all of this, what that means depends upon the premise of the belief system of the one making the comment doesn’t it? If they believe that I was trying to do the right thing by reporting Dale, it means one thing. If they believe that Dale was ‘trying to do the right thing’ by getting me ‘help’ then it means something quite different doesn’t it?
Also heard on street: “The University wants to talk to her now.” Also, “Some are saying it’s the end of an era.”
A woman who I have seen and heard discussing me outside the university centre takes number three bus and gets off at my stop. She lives on Woodycrest. (Just like bus driver Tony C.)
Bus driver Sue is seen this week talking to one of the people who long ago got his information from the Silver Dollar staff. He is staring at me as I approach after just talking to Sue. This is the same man who stood on the streets beside his wife all those years ago and said, “‘They’ think she is psychic.” (Right out of the ‘exercises’ in Dale’s training, which is what I told Homewood staff he was doing LONG before I broke down, which they then covered it up.)
My ex psychiatrist just 'happens' to wander through the library when I just 'happen' to be there. What a coincidence.
added
Former Elliott staff member now working at No Frills says to customer as the pair of them turn together and look right at me three cashiers away, “It sure is weird.”
Tattooed twenty year old and his vacant looking wife/girlfriend get on the bus with a case of beer and he says to the guy sitting across from him, “have you heard the latest about Pat Lefave? (Pronounced LaFaav like ‘have’)
The other one answers yeah and then smirks. Idiot number one then pronounces his assessment: “It’s all Bullshit man.” His vacuous girlfriend punctuates that with the obligatory moronic forced laugh and then returns immediately to her vacant stare mode.
My ‘friend’ has another laughing ridiculing session with her neighbour across the hall. (Later, the neighbour will take this news to her contacts on the gossip circuit)
The Town Crier assumes her usual position as supportive gossip at the Save Mart store and today is out in front in discussion with the cleaning woman and the Rent-a-cop, the one who has been educated by Officer Jeff’ that ‘they’ are all just ‘seeking attention.’
All three consider the conversations they have had in my presence to be ‘unknown’ to me.
University Library staff: “Well, what I don’t understand is why she pushed EVERYONE away?”
(Oh I don’t push “everyone” away. And you should watch that ‘everybody/nobody’ thing as it is a ‘sign.’ I have repeatedly invited those whom this matter truly concerns to talk directly to me for many years. They refuse. As for the rest of you pushing and shoving your way into my personal space, why do you not notice your own group behaviour? Perhaps you need some group therapy yourselves?)
Bus passenger: “Do you think she believes we are the CIA?” ( Moron laughter)
(Answer: “No. SHE believes YOU think you are like the CIA as you seem to want to keep believing that you are great ‘covert’ operators despite any and all evidence to the contrary)
You know there is another direct connection between Ed P. and Prof. P which I discovered recently. Prof P is one of the people who have kept every Tom, Dick and Harriet informed of every rumour he manages to collect, especially when he is out at the mall on Sundays. Besides the interest in running corporate systems, they have also both spent time in Ottawa , connected to Carlton . You know who else is from Ottawa ? There was a guy that was in the psychiatric hospital on the H2 unit, pretending to be a patient while ‘observing' me and telling his colleagues he was feeling like a spy. He was a bad ‘spy,’ but isn’t it interesting that these people act out like ‘spies’ in their OWN definitions, and yet they see no connection to using the CIA as an analogy for what they are, in FACT, doing?
(His name used by the way was Joe Bluestein. It may be his real name or a pseudonym for the ‘spy’ game he was playing, don’t know. Oh and by the way, Prof P’s name turns out to be “Richard”, as was the first name of the Prof. I met while on the Whacko ward in 95. (Richard F.) There seems to be quite a few ‘Dicks’ associated with the university here.
(Now you won’t read anything into that will you? If you find yourself looking for any ‘hidden meaning’ there, you should know there is an ever growing assortment of drugs available to treat that symptom.)
August 21st, 2008.
BF shows up at the University library while I am there using the computer. (Is this the start of yet another messiah-like ‘intervention’?) He turns his face away after he spots me so I will not be able to see him and quickly passes by on his way to the men’s room. (Sure) he takes some time to peer at me secretively through the window. I do not know about this of course as I am the psychiatrized and we are all barely conscious aren’t we? Then, he passes by the other way and seems a bit ‘disconcerted.’ (Is it Disconcerted Personality Disorder?) So he dashes into a chair at a computer, fooling me completely while a guy he knows there spots him and gives him the ‘is that her’ type of body language thing which of course, I being the town defective, have no understanding about whatsoever. Though I did not see him depart, I believe he may just have crawled out of the library on his belly like a Confederate soldier in Union territory.
Two male students discuss what I call ‘him’ and once again I am assessed as ‘just stupid.’
Outdoor café: “She was determined to MAKE them see what they were doing. “
“Well how could she make them do that?” answered the other, her face in a sneering expression.
“They’ are saying now that I am really ‘dirty.’ (Abstract use of concrete) Some of my new neighbours have pointed out that you” wouldn’t want to call my health care agency as ‘they might send someone crazy to take care of you.” Ha ha ha…
This is not the first round of this kind of comment I have heard of course. Nor is it recent. In fact, I once had it acted out for me in nursing homes and on the streets that my employer had planned to make sure I never went anywhere again where the staff, many of them the Homewood staff involved all along, had been telling all the tales of my incurable insanity; not to my face of course, which means I don’t know a thing about it. This is one of the things about which we are all being ‘too sensitive’ unlike those grossly insensitive ones who are quite certain THEY would be able to handle all of this ever so much better than us ‘genetic defectives’ do.
(Once again, it is important that you understand that these people almost always believe they are not seen or heard by us and that is a big part of their excuse making and their minimizing of the personally devastating and very real concrete results to our lives and well being.
They make ‘jokes’ about their abuse and their disdain for we ‘lesser’ humans. Is it all that difficult to understand why we who must look into their smirking faces and amused eyes can easily believe they must BE joking? You see our error is in seeing ourselves as ‘equals’ to people who see us as ‘inferiors.’ This is where my understanding of Berne ’s “Transactional Analysis came in handy too. You all LOOK like you are ‘joking’ and since it would not make sense to US that you believed you were not seen and heard from four feet away, that is very often the framework in which we perceive you; at least, for awhile. Later we sometimes believe you ALL are doing it deliberately intending we should know that you are having a wonderfully entertaining time driving us into insanity for the sheer sick ‘fun’ you get from doing it. It is also true that SOME of the people who get involved in this are DOING just that since it is OK as long as it is done to ‘defectives’ who don’t understand what is going on anyway. Note the surreal absurdity n that last statement because at the nexus point of MEANING, we DON”T understand what is going on with you; it is just that what WE don’t understand about you, and what YOU ‘think’ we don’t understand about you, are not on the same level of consciousness. In fact, we are higher than you in such a state and not lower as you want to believe.
It is this ‘switch’ that causes all the chaos. We know we are in this chaos and you who are creating it do not know. SO, the more we tell the truth, the less you are capable of hearing it since you are focused on maintaining your OWN delusions. Many of us tell you that too and you scoff and say things like “They are trying to turn things around.” You don’t suspect that they already ARE turned around and that is the problem. In my protagonist’s ‘game’ ‘turning things around’ one hundred and eighty degrees is what his power and domination is based on; just like in other dysfunctional relationships with all the control freaks.
Sat, Aug 23rd 2008
BF shows up again and casually saunters through while observing the specimens. There are two specimens there today, me and another guy I know. One of us is dressed in another new outfit and has added earrings to the ensemble and it isn’t me. So I am not sure which one of us this stroll through is for; perhaps it is the observation of both of us today. IN any case, back he saunters to the men’s’ room, then back out again to the front desk where a third person groupthink session takes place. The normal people may now breathe a sigh of relief. I am not looking too dangerous today apparently and neither is my labelled friend. (Just a bit tacky, as those shoes do not go with that skirt) No direct communication was attempted with either of us specimens.
Heard on the street: “she is afraid of him now.’ (Wonder which of my stalkers the speaker means there.)
University staff: “She says we are all the same AND all unique. (The woman speaking shakes her hands by her ears as if to ward off incomprehensible sounds) “It is just ridiculous. It makes no sense; yet ‘he’ seems to think she is very brainy.’
The gossiping angry tenant who has been making comments about me since day one says a pointed ‘hi’ to me in the hall which is sure to be assessed with the others later. She has been in the Homewood Hilton herself in the past too so she likely has the staff version of me which she has spread everywhere with everyone else. My ‘friend’ also supplies this hallway woman with the versions of reality she gets form the twelve steppers she knows.
Like the woman I used to hear discussing me and how horrible I was with others on the bus. She did not even know who I was but she got the story from the staff there. I had mistakenly identified her once as perhaps a volunteer in the coffee shop as you used to come out of their at 8pm every night (red lipstick) but she was actually the wife of a patient who then got transferred from there to Riverside Glen where all the stories continued in the new surroundings but with more of former Homewood staff etc. .And so it has gone, on and on.
Sunday at the University Library yet another stroll through takes place with BF and his never ending specimen observation. Again, the pass by observation is framed as if it were part of what is becoming the ‘P’ parade and this one included another pass by observation ( the psychiatric equivalent of a drive by shooting) about a half hour later as performed by one of the university objective observers, the now retired Professor P. who did his mall act for me. My, what an amazing coincidence this is yet again. I am sure that Prof P will now run out to the mall to keep all the retired men informed of all the latest buzz as well as the table wipers who do their own best to keep every shopper up to date on the latest poop. These in turn of course must rush back to all the housing buildings to inform all the neighbours of the latest version of me and this psycho drama while all pretend not to know hear or see a thing. That is because they all are so clever it is the easiest thing in the world to ‘fool a ‘nut/stupid woman like me. Oh, and Phidd? Don’t forget to update the smirking idiot from the downtown camera place. He would not want to be left out and he has many people in the downtown core he has to keep informed every day, not to mention all the bus passengers and drivers. You know, I was just thinking, I have seen BF more in the last three days then I have seen him in the last thirteen years.
Oh. If you are planning to run the ‘P’ parade by me again today, you should know I will be leaving by six so get the covert routine done before that.
Why was I introduced to this man, Richard Forster aka Dr. Dick, when in the whacko ward in 95?
Update: No ‘P’ parade on Monday.
I have found more interesting ‘connections’ between the players in this as well. Harvard as the alma mater is a constant feature; they all know each other. It is also interesting to me that once, on the streets, it was acted out for me that it was not Dale that had started this at all but ‘the doctor.’ (Take your pick)
Of course, all of this is based on the understanding of all my assessors and observers, who are all very careful not to talk directly to me no matter how often I asked them to do so. The possibility still exists then that I know MORE details than my judges but since they NEVER talk to me, we may never really know without a police investigation In any case, one of the other pieces of information I have uncovered recently which makes me wonder about the ‘the doctor is the one who started it’ remark, is that Harvard Community Psychiatry is DIRECTLY connected to the same organization that trained Dale and promotes this organization as helping ‘successful people become even MORE successful.’ One wonders what the alumni of Harvard really mean by the term ‘successful.’ Is it that they too believe there is no right or wrong and all of life is essentially meaningless therefore anything goes?
One of the women who is (or was) a patient representative (did she ever take the patient’s side against the psychiatrist?) is seen walking down the street in conversation with the tall blond woman who works in a medical office at Old Quebec St. This is the same tall blond woman who was told by Mike, a mail carrier, that he was checking me out to see what my sexual orientation was; the way I held my hands proved that. Perhaps you remember I looked at my nails BOTH ways for him just to confuse my assessor? Who knows though? Maybe THAT is where the ‘bi-sexual’ rumour got started?
Two men in the library discuss how I had a complete breakdown because of all of this including coming close to committing suicide. One of them in a situation lately says that he said, ‘well, we don’t tell her who she is; she tells us.’ Then he says he thought he would get that shot in while he had the chance.
Outside the University centre, a male voice says, “There’s Pat’ as I walk past them. Another group member makes a remark which I did not hear and then the whole group laughs together as they turn and look at me.
A man has now said, ‘I like her better than I like (her employer which he names.’)
One of my neighbours asks me how I ‘am doing’ and I reply, ‘Oh I am fine thank-you.’ This is a neighbour who gossips about me ‘secretly’ and who has stated to others, “Oh EVERBODY knows about HER,’ (when they were trying to make sure they all knew which “Pat” they were gossiping about.)
When I said I was fine thank-you, a flash of anger passed across her face. You see, many of them believe I should be giving them the details of my experience so they can get together later and evaluate that together in ‘secret.’ They do not question their own boundary violating behaviour and their own gossiping. What they question is MY lack of participation in it.
Monday, one of the women who was (and perhaps still is) a Patient Representative at the psychiatric hospital was seen comparing notes with the tall blond woman from a medical office at Old Quebec St. This woman from the medical office used to sit with Mike from the post office at lunch time in the town square where a large number of other people also sat to observe the specimen here in ‘secret’ as always. (Once, a large contingency from the psych hospital came to the square, most of them from clerical and maintenance to observe me as well. I know this because it was also announced over the bus radios, all of which were turned up full blast when they did it. That happened a lot too. It was obvious without that but not of course to all the ‘superior’ employees of the hospital, all of them certain that their awareness of my experience is so much better than my own. This is of course, the standard dysfunctional delusion so it does not come as any surprise to me. Mike had been checking out my sexual orientation which is apparently done by watching how one looks at one’s finger nails, as a ‘favour’ to someone who is too dull witted to know what ‘talk directly to me’ actually means. In fact, no one in town seems to know what that means.
Two men in the library discuss how I nearly committed suicide. (Several rounds of this have gone all through the public with various ‘interpretations’ attached as always. Also d8iscussed was how I had a ‘complete breakdown’ because of it. One of them says, “We don’t tell her who she is. She tells us.” He added, “I jus thought I would get a shot in while I had the chance.”
Outside the university library a male voice announces to a group, “There’s pat.”
A comment is made by another who lowers his voice and then the whole group laughs together.
A man on the street says, “They knew all of this time.” The other on be responds, “I like her better than I like Comcare.”
Students discuss “that Comcare woman.” Three males discuss me as I walk by saying, “She knows we call her a weirdo.” (No doubt they did not know they were doing it right then though)
The basic delusion in this is that these people see no connection at all between what they do and say and what I report they do and say. That is the split in reality. Exactly the same event or behaviour of a group is denied by the group and given an alternate meaning. IN other words, the same experience is defined in two different ways. That allows the truth told by the target to be heard by the group as delusions and the delusions of the group is heard by the group as the truth and by the target as lies, a game or a joke.
(for surely they could not actually BELIEVE what they are “pretending” to believe is truth, when in fact, they KNOW that what the targeted ‘sick one’ says is the truth about what they are in FACT doing? )
Two new students, female: (one is second year psych) “My new room mate says, she is really weird. I told her I don’t really know her so I guess it is easy to say that about someone I don’t really know, but that is what they say. (Ah yes, ‘they.’ I was sitting beside them as they discussed ‘that weird Comcare woman.’)
A public library staffer gets the latest news out of Homewood from the skinny woman who is a volunteer at the Hospital library. Student: “she writes about it all now. It is just disgusting. This city likes to think it is a big city atmosphere but it is really a small minded, small town type of mentality.”
Stay tuned for A September to Remember
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