A STRANGER OBSESSION

I have been accused of Lacking Empathy. It has come from every direction: work, personal, Internet, Real Time. It surprises me, because I don’t feel that I have been successful in hiding my Illness at all. In fact I firmly believe my Illness has cost me several jobs over the past 10 years. It has certainly been the subject of Office Gossip and Personal Rumors. And let's be honest, the years I spent hiding my illness in order to make a living in the Corporate World is the impetus which set Steve Koenig and Ted Whiting on a personal vendetta to Slut Shame me, Terrorize me and otherwise discredit me.  But remember, *I* lack empathy. I realize that not everyone who surfs Facebook or Google Plus have run across my Story. While Endometriosis is the main story, I have remained silent about my PTSD diagnosis as the “label” just grates on me. The social stigma assigned to Veterans with PTSD is a heavy one. Besides which, I made a Promise. I promised never to speak about The Thing wh

" it was a promise that the U.S. military was making to her and she was making to the U.S. military: This will be our secret." Since you leaked my secret, I get to leak yours. But not before I cause so much trouble, trigger so many questions, and generate so much paperwork that it becomes a burden for your Peers to even admit they know your name. You may have started this game, but I promise you, I will be the one to end it. By the way, your Buddies are terribly bad at Surveillance. So I decided to make it a little more dangerous for you. On April 10th, mid afternoon, your Buddy confirmed in the parking lot that you are One Man. You are relying on relationships, threats and coercion to continue this Game and I am coming for you. Let's see which Law Enforcement Agency will continue to protect you from me.  Let's find out exactly where the "Corrupt Cops" are actually located - because darling, one of your Boys already confirmed for me that there is onl

I am not backing down. In fact this Holiday Season I am taking actions to ensure everyone understands just how stubbornly I am digging in. You will prosecute my Stalker, you will bring him up on charges related to the unauthorized access of Classified Military Documents. And if you push me hard enough, ignore me long enough, I will start hitting my targets on my way to tracking down 1 in 125 Analysts who shared my Personally Identifiable Information with Don Stovner. I will make such a mess of things, you will pray for a Judge to intervene. Right now, there isn't a Judge, Attorney, Statesman or Military man who will touch this case. Between the Slut Shaming the Sex-capades, the implied Pedophilia and of course the Military Sexual Assault, any man with half a brain is distancing himself from this case. Let's see, we've cycled through local Law Enforcement, the Sheriff of at least 3 Counties in 2 States. We've burned through the FBI, the CIA and the US Air Force O

Saturday August 31 – As we left the house, we saw a white compact car (Toyota or Camry or Honda) parked diagonally across the street, and inside was a man reading the newspaper. As we pulled out of the drive way and drove down the street, J watched the man in the rear view mirror.  He got out of the car and headed towards our driveway.  We turned around and headed back to the house. It took less than 90 seconds.  By the time we got back to the driveway, the man and the car were gone. We got home about 2 hours later and I let the dogs out to the back yard.  There I found one of the hand painted signs along the fence hanging by 1 hook, like someone knocked it as they jumped the fence. I'm going home, gonna load my shotgun Wait by the door and light a cigarette He wants a fight well now he's got one And he ain't seen me crazy yet       Sunday September 1 – We were in the backyard, under the carport doing our hair so we would

I was tricked in 2011. I was so distracted by the hacking and stalking and the retrieving my belongings, I missed the signs. I needed to work and I needed money. So I took a contract that I swore I would never do, ever. So, at this point I have reached out, I have left a trail of data, and I have set up my little triangle. I have - so far - avoided another situation like the one in 2011. Suffice it to say, I discovered the moves I was making pushed me in that direction, but at every opportunity for validation, absolutely nothing happened. I mean..... nothing. By Summer 2011, I realized no one, absolutely no one who mattered knew about The Trick in 2011 when, during an interview, the interviewer said, "...  we can't have a melt down on a remote." Now, I have told one person the truth about what happened on that Remote. We are going to find out this week if February 2011 was ever taken seriously.  Because what I signed up for, and what I found myself in were two compl

You think you can come around here
 All up in my face
 All up in my world You better know you better know you better know
 I´m at your door I´m at your door I´m at your door
 You gotta right you gotta right to know
 Me and my Teenage Hustling
 I´ve been workin´it
 since I´z fourteen
 Me and my Teenage Hustling
 It´s gonna save me
 save me save me save me save me save me
 From your dirty dealings
 I’m a Dirty Girl 
I’m such a Dirty Girl Maybe the riddle of this accident 
goes back to your gossip
 With a ferocious strategy
 you play wounded in his cockpit
 But I think that you forgot my days 
of Teenage Hustling Me and my Teenage Hustling
 I´ve been workin´ it
 since I´z fourteen
 
 But you´ve been skankin´ around
 with your talentless trash
 You only shoot blanks
at your cocksure best
 Me and my Teenage Hustling
 It´s gonna save me
 save me save me save me save me save me
 From your dirty dealings
 Now i don´t mind a Dirty Girl


UPDATE June 26, 2013 Filed this one under "Irony" - Spencer Shockley's daughter is the same age E & I were when Spencer sexually assaulted us at Senior Frog's in Cancun Mexico. I bet she has no idea the filthy behavior her father condones. Wonder what Kelsi's mom Lynda thinks? During the Winter & Spring of 1991, my friend E and I were working in Downtown LA.  We were in what is known as “Little Tokyo” and we were part of a corporation which was literally building Los Angeles.  We began a habit of going out every weekend, except the weekend started on Thursdays.  E and I had bonded quite accidentally in an elevator.  We kept the very same schedule, riding the elevator up to the 8 th floor in the morning and down to the parking garage in the evening.  It wasn’t long before we began parking near each other on the same garage floor.  Our conversations quickly turned to the men in our lives, or rather, the men who were no longer in our lives.  It was

1988 – 1989:  He arrived on the Flight Line out of no where, and like me, he was not included in any of the Squadron Crew Chief Games. Ignored or Pranked were the only attention we received because I was the only woman in the Squadron and he was an F-15 Crew Chief on an F-16 Flight Line. I had started to play golf again on the Air Force Base, and I began running into him on the Range. Eventually we began playing Golf together on our days off. At some point, our Flight Line Schedules aligned and we were on the same shifts on the same days. We spent six months together. He moved from the Base Dorms to the same Mobile Home neighborhood I was living.  We would carpool to the Flight Line together in his Truck with the over sized tires. I could walk to his house from mine – so it always looked like I was at home when in reality I was hiding out with him in his bed. Turned out, the Air Force put him in a holding pattern on our Base, in my Unit, while he awaited his next orders to