A Terroristic Divorce

Over the last 5 years, I have repeatedly been told to not let anyone into my life. Directed to isolate myself. I have not done so. As a result, I have allowed people to enter my life who normally I would never have encountered. I have done so because it would provide the opportunity for them to reveal themselves. It has been effective.

I have used them to reveal themselves. I have also used their misinformation to reveal their tactics. When presented with documents from ‘strangers with enthusiasm’ the documents have been revealing. They were attempting to guide me to agree with the wildest stories right out of The X Files. I glean from the document enough of the information to confirm the tactic, but only pretend to swallow the whole story. The whole story is crazy. The parts of the story I have experienced personally are true. The parts that I have not personally experienced are crazy and intended to misguide me.

So I take the peices of their document that I know to be true as confirmation of my experience. They have to include some truth in their document to help convince me to buy in. I take those truths as affirmations of my experience. A receipt.

I had called these people ‘they’, ‘agents’, ‘spies’, … and after years of the story, they evolved. ‘They’ were Confidential Informants and Private Investigators. Discerning between the two became as simple as the story they spun. Their actions were similar. Their stories were similar. Employment was the difference. It seemed at some point in the last 5 years I realized that everyone I have met has been unemployed. I had never met so many unemployed people in my life.

Confidential Informants had jobs they didn’t discuss. Jobs they had to go to. Jobs they cared about keeping. Confidential Informants have been to jail. They know that getting a job with that on your resume is difficult. Confidential Informants were doing as they had been instructed, attempting to set me up or turn me into something I am not. I often saw their situation and ended up helping them. They saw me for the true person I am. They did not like doing what they were doing to me. They did what they had to do to stay out of jail.

Private Investigators are only pretending to be unemployed. They are going on constant interviews. Yet, they never get the job. Their scheduled are never solid. They ignore appointments and interviews. They saw me for the person I was. They got to know me. They also treated me as a work assignment. While they struggled with their actions which they knew were hurting a good person, it was their job. They did it. They did what they did to keep their job. They also knew that if they didn’t, they would be ‘reprimanded’.

The actions of the private investigator are the connecting factors to all of the law enforcement agencies and their inactivity. The private investigator has kept law enforcement from investigating the crimes against me. The private investigator has been causing the situation which has then been used by law enforcement to support their inaction. All of law enforcement cannot be aligned against me. If I believed so, that would be demonstrative of a great sense of paranoia and cynicism. I’ve had hope. I have persevered. Law enforcement has been persuaded into their inaction and have been getting played by the private investigator.

In the last 5 years, there were a few people who did not fit those categories. I was at a loss to explain their connection or involvement or interest. The word was given to me in a massive document from a new facebook friend. This doc was crazy stuff. just enough truth, with a whole lot of crazy. The document refers to people brought into someones life to distract them as ‘handlers’.

I now had the word to describe the 3rd type of person I have met in the last 5 years. The Handler did nothing but listen. The Handler did nothing to help. The Handler was always interested in helping and knowing more but they never did anything. The Handlers I have met personally and spoke to on the phone were great listeners. The Handlers I have met on the internet and through email were great time wasters and often trying to link me to a cause that didn’t exist. The Handlers never listened to or read anything about my story. Their message was always the same. Run away. Get over it. Abandon everyone. Move On. Stop doing anything.

Some of the Handlers were great therapy. I was able to survive the retellings of the story. When the Handler realized I was benefitting from their listening (even though I knew they would do nothing) they usually confronted the fact that I wouldn’t run away. They tried harder to talk me into it. And then, because I wouldn’t take their bad advice, they wouldn’t listen. I always remember those calls ending and I still felt great. I knew they weren’t going to help. I knew they were supposed to be undermining me. They hadn’t killed my hope. And they reinforced the experience. The Handlers job is to misdirect, to listen, and misdirect, to talk, and misdirect, to write, and misdirect.

Why would I run away from the truth? Why allow myself to be misdirected away from the truth of my story? Why allow the truth, the proof, the Courts own paperwork and rulings and actions to go ignored? Why would I take the advice of a stranger to run away from the truth? Greater still, why would a stranger want me to do that? Unless he was a ‘Handler’.