That time was nearly poisoned and my therapist suggested I join DS. (Q proof)
I've been sitting on this a while, debating whether it's worth even mentioning to the public at large, and decided, yeah it's worth it. If anything, that should something happen to me in these escalating times, that the douchebag I'm going to discuss should be looked at by law enforcement because the dude knows shady stuff. But first, some backstory for context.
I pissed people off.
By people, I mean deep state; and by pissed off, I mean I got watchlisted (FBI calls 'em "Non Investigative Subjects, handling code 4") and put on a slow-kill list. I know it sounds like BS, but man, making notes and collecting evidence is what I do. There's too much evidence to say it's not happening.
Just as a refresher, I wrote posts that uncovered shady shit. I made youtube vids that covered allegations coming from obscure books, and shared this information in a public forum. Within 24 hours of posting a vid covering the 1995 sex abuse allegations regarding a two-time failed presidential candidate, I got a bunch of hits to my blog from the DC area.
So, we can't pretend that I didn't catch someone's attention regarding my coverage of shady shit.
After posting that, I noticed that my twitter posts were getting much less coverage than before, and that my posts on here weren't getting so much action anymore-- which directly impacted my fiscal solvency.
During this time, I was seeing a therapist for PTSD. Kept him informed of all that I discovered in #pizzagate and #pedogate, and he'd ask me about my research. I didn't think much of it; my crusade of preventing childhood sexual abuse is important to me. How we treat kids colors the world they grow up in and helps determine how they act as adults. Traumatized kids create a traumatized world as adults. Best prevention of a fucked up future is to stop the deliberate fucking up of children, starting NOW. I didn't keep this hidden from my therapist.
There was a period in my therapy that I was dealing with unwanted emotions, and tried working them out with my therapist's help. Didn't go so well, and I was left wondering why would he try creating a false reality for me? His actions and words did not match. And after questioning his intentions, the electronic harassment began in earnest. This stuff I pondered, I didn't mention to him. I knew I wouldn't get a straight answer from him. Didn't help that he kept two cell phones on his desk; one of which he would fiddle with (as if activating a voice recording or something) before our session would begin. He wasn't turning off the sound, as he would answer texts and whatnot during our sessions. Color me suspicious and cautious of his intentions. At the time, I was of the mind that I can deal with toxic people if I know what their intentions are; while I recognized he was being douchebaggy, I wanted to take as much as I could away from the therapy session and try to heal in areas not related to him. As long as I expected him to be douchebaggy, I wasn't setting myself up for a false reality. I could cope with that notion.
Fast forward to this year.
Back in February, shit got "more interesting" as defined by things happening in my life getting cranked up to 11. On Feb 1, I told my best friend, in the comfort of my living room, that if things were as I suspected, that I'm actually watchlisted and spied upon through my local "fusion center", then my handler had to be my therapist. 95% of the people I deal with on a regular basis are people I grew up with, people I've known since childhood. The only person I've really interacted with in the past handful of years and didn't grow up with was my therapist. Things he had said to me over the years built a picture of who he truly was; "morally flexible" and manipulative (he told me point blank he manipulated his wife into freaking the fuck out and acting out violently so he could get custody of their kid) and two faced. He would say things like, "No appointment in 2 weeks when I have to fly to the East coast for training." and the next week say, "No appointment next week because I'm going on vacation." Well, which is it? Training (work) or a vacation? Him giving two conflicting events habitually helped break the therapeutic spell; I began to question everything.
And that week in Feb, I told my best friend of my suspicions, at that week's therapy appointment, my therapist said THREE times, "I really hope you don't think I'm your handler."
I never told him of my suspicions. I never mentioned that particular phrase to him. And here he was, fixating on the concept multiple times during my "therapy."
My creeped out meter got kicked into high gear, and any remaining doubts left... He overplayed his hand. Decided for my own safety, that I needed to record our conversations because he obviously wasn't on my side. Not when he's parroting my supposedly private conversations back to me.
Next day, my "health issues" got kicked into high gear. Had to go to ER; heart palpitations and a monster migraine the likes I never experienced before. Had very high blood pressure when I never had heart issues before. Within a 3 month period, I had been to the ER 5 times, and to my doctor 4-6 times a month, trying to get a handle on my newly developed cardiac issues.
Things came to a boiling point regarding my health in late March.
The blood pressure med I was on depleted my potassium bigtime-- enough that two of my ER visits dealt with the repercussions of not having enough; tachycardia and palpitations. The first time, I was diagnosed with low potassium. The ER doc prescribed horse pill-sized supplements which worked great as long as I took them. At my next regular practitioner's appointment, he said he prescribed me the supplement. When I ran out of the ER doctor's allotment, I tried refilling my prescription, since the pharmacy allegedly had my prescription from my regular practitioner.
But no. They didn't. I spent a week trying to get that prescription filled, playing phone tag with the doctor's office (the front desk would route me to the dr's office and the phone would ring for almost 10 minutes with no answer. Repeatedly. I left messages when I could, but the voice mail didn't always kick on. Got to the point that the lovely lady at the front desk ended up calling the dr on my behalf to try to get a response... didn't work. And before you say "get a new doctor," please be reminded that I live in a tiny, podunk town that doesn't offer a lot in the way of options) ... so the next time I ended up in the ER from low potassium it was because my regular supplement didn't get filled in a timely manner and my heart felt it. Over the counter potassium supplements aren't effective; I'd have to take half the bottle to get anywhere close to the dosage I needed. That's not feasible nor healthy.
So I went back to the ER. Told them what happened; I was prescribed potassium, I hadn't taken my dose in nearly a week, and my doctor's office is non-responsive. By that time, I had undergone several hours of palpitations. ER doctor felt that since I had a day of heart stress, that I should be hospitalized overnight in a neighboring town's hospital for observation. ER doc said that 4 out of 5 times, when there's been several hours of palpitations, that it tends to blow over into a heart attack in the wee hours of the morning and it was better to be safe than sorry. Sigh. All of it could have been avoided had the doctor's office not avoided me. I was shipped via ambulance to the other hospital.
Icing on the cake was that very evening, Lisa Mei Crowley retweeted one of my posts and I'm pretty sure those extra eyes on it didn't help.
Around 10:30 that night, a blonde woman came in. She said she was the administer of the two hospitals I had been in that night; she wanted to know what happened. So I told her (and gave props to the front desk lady who tried hard to help)... it was that woman who said I was on too high a dosage of potassium (uh, okay, I obviously have plenty of potassium in my system, otherwise I wouldn't be in the hospital, right? * eyeroll * ) and she wanted to cut the dosage in half.
Which is very convenient for what happened next.
Next day, I got out of the hospital. Got my new potassium prescription filled. Took my night dose. Didn't sleep well at the hospital, so conked out big time when I got home. I was supposed to have a therapy appointment that day, but since I was still in the hospital, I had cancelled.
Next morning, I went to take my new potassium.
There were other pills mixed in; same color, shape, size. Different texture, different scoring.
I was shocked. SHOCKED! Those weren't in there last night. I counted my pills-- I had my full potassium allotment with those extra pills in addition.
Looked them up on WebMD's pill identifier. There were for a sedative called Trazadone.
If I had taken one the Trazadone, my potassium would have dipped to a very low level. Dangerously low. Plus I'd be all loopy and shit, trying to function on a sedative. And had I taken more than one? I'd be dead.
Dead from heart failure due to low potassium because that female doctor decided half the original prescribed dosage would be adequate.
Took the Trazadone to my pharmacy. Explained to the tech, and then the pharmacist what happened. "Both were like, Uh, how did that happen?" Ya know what? I made a recording of THAT conversation too. I mean, if weird shit is happening to me, documenting it is pretty damn important, right? The conversation with the pharmacist took place on 3/23/2019.
On 3/28/2019, I had my next "therapy" appointment. By this time, I was pissy, angry, and knowing that without a doubt, this supposed healer was anything but. And I was right.
He suggested I consider deep state's side of things, especially in regards to a particular writing project of mine; a spitefic based off Fifty Shades of Grey, where the male lead is part of a covert breeding program, and that he has to get his wife assimilated. That fucks with his programming and he bungles it all. His widow goes on a mission to destroy those who destroyed her husband's psyche. Evidently covering things like MKUltra and it's derivatives are frowned upon in certain circles. Who knew? (ah, sarcasm. It's good for the soul.)
So, due to the events of the preceding week, I figured that this was a good "therapy" session to record.
- HIGHLIGHTS *
-"Heart issues" :
-Almost poisoned :
-Next Escalation of whatever :
-"Did your research get you into trouble?" :
-Lisa Mei tweet and Secret Gov Organization joke :
-"Sugar or Salt" :
-"I don't call it selling out..". :
-THE BEAST :
-Strokes and domestic Havana Syndrome :
-"Have you been checking your (EMF) readings?" And infrasound :
-"But that means somebody is following you." :
-"I wonder how ((he)) did that" (spike my heart med with psychotropic sedative) :
Well, I was right. And so was QAnon when they said this:
I know I was being groomed into shooting. My therapist and I had discussed various handguns; he favored Glock while I was eyeballing a 1911-style sidearm. I was put into situations where I had to physically defend my children from an attacker; they took my stun gun and tried using it on me. The escalation was there and I was mindful of it.
Mostly because I studied Q and went down rabbit holes. I learned just how important this shit is when I tried covering the 2014 Senate Presentation of Human and Civil Rights in America and my mic got cut.
Red flags like my "therapist" having to cancel our appointment one week because he was getting "training for hypnosis" really, really don't work in their favor. Shit like that gets noticed and documented.
My bestie is right: my former therapist totally sucked in the worst of ways.
For those shady asshats most likely reading this: everything is being documented. That wad of gum your douchebag put on my entertainment center got bagged and tagged -- ask Harry about it; he looked nervous after I told him and pointed out it's DNA evidence, graciously provided by ya'll.
Next on my list after posting this? Gonna contact the FCC. Just joking, not going to contact them after this post.
The letter is already written and sent. * (copy below) Anything happens to me? Gonna be mighty suspicious. Harry left a big crumb trail. Oh, and the sheriff has been made aware, too.
You might want to ask Harry what his intentions were, waving enough red flags to put me on alert; you know the first step to avoiding the trap is knowing that the trap is there, right?
And for those interested in tawdry novels, discounted for a limited time, here ya go. My novel inspired by all the gates
Letter to FCC:
Dear sirs,
I am requesting a field team be dispatched to my home to measure electronic emanations that not only wreak havoc on my electronics, but are strong enough that I feel them (feels like standing near something putting out dirty electricty) and that my phone's app (Phyphox, a university devloped app to do experiments using the phone's various sensors) can detect these fluxuations (attachments included), and these energies are powerful enough that my children feel them (and all of us have developed tinnitus at the same time) My home is too often uninhabitable with no where else for my family and I to go since I am a single mother living on a tight budget. The emanations are generally highest throughout the night, causing sleep deprivation issues for my family and I.
It has come to my attention that there are a lot of people such as I, across the country, writing you in regards to the misuse and abuse of powerfully electronic devices intended to assault human beings covertly. I believe that Executive Order 13606 forbids the use of such equipment to interfere with or damage other electronic equipment, but it also characterizes those who use this type of equipment to harm human being essentially as domestic terrorists. Many victims even complain their pets and plants are suffering and dying. I fear for my declining state of health, if not the lives of my children being exposed to this technology.
I believe your very important knowledge ans services are crucial to uncover and stop this crime wave and eagerly await hearing back from you to schedule a visit so you can detect these anomalies with appropriate technology.
My address and contact information are below. Please let me know if I can answer any questions in regard to my situation.
Thank you for your time and I look forward to hearing from you,
Me
Eat shit, douchebags. It's RED OCTOBER. You earned the shit storm aimed your way.
Shouldn't have hacked my PC to change the names of my audio recordings. That, the fake bills from Harry when I quit his services (when he's documented acknowledging I have insurance and who the fuck bills someone for services rendered seven months after the fact? And dunny how those bills have suddenly disappeared), getting social workers from a traumatic period in my past to reappear in my life, making sure I heard you guys locking my door from the outside at 1:25 am... bad fucking choices. When one documents this shit... it paints a thorough timeline of manipulation. This is your notice to quit.
Leave me, my family, friends, pets, plants, and belongings alone.
This post is being sent to various members of the government, DOJ, FCC, and every other agency I can think of being relevant as an official statement. I want this torture of me and mine to stop so we can live productive, fruitful lives. And as long as this crap is going on, this stuff I've documented with my shady therapist, there will be no thriving when we're focusing on surviving.
End the Non Investigative Subjects watchlist. End Fusion Centers and contract stalking. End the sale of no touch torture devices.
End the torture of children.