Saturday, July 29, 2023

Snake Bites to the Soul, more backwards than the four humors

 Hi everyone, today is July 29. I do not think any website traffic is coming to this blog unless I directly share it and if that is on facebook they still won’t click on it.  So it is really just a journal.  My old blog has a lot of clicks this months because of the legal sharks following me. 

Right now I am experiencing the toxic soul poison of a snake bite from yesterday which was an interaction with Tamara, who is one of the people who emotionally abuses me at my supported housing apartment.  Lillian is the other person who I think has been so consistent and strategic that it is on a criminal level.  I will not survive it and this happened last year and didn’t stop until I reported it to the cops. I did that again recently and will have to go back and beg for someone to intervene. Most people seem to think, “Well then don’t live there.”  I feel sorry for anyone who sees it that way, and they will probably receive their disapproval from God in front of a large audience.

 

The other thing that is adding to my feeling of abuse today is a financial situation where a credit card company took back part of the agreeement I was functioning under and making decisions based on.  It was a cash advance line on a credit card account that started this spring.  I have paid it off very quickly but I applied for as many credit cards as I could and this company emailed me and took back some of their credit limit and most of the cash line.  Well that cash line was the back up plan that I was counting on as I signed up for other cards.  Some of my other cards also have small cash lines but almost all of the companies make accessing those lines be a several step process that you can’t do at the last minute.  I personally think that is dirty and a service should be more straightforward than that.  You should receive your pin number with your card.

 

Added to that is that the in-person banking services and other things like stores in my neighborhood are places where I face blatant insulting abuse and discrimination upon almost any interaction I have there.  Some of it does actually match an illegal “refusal to serve” description, and some of it just has to do with delaying service or blocking me from whatever resource I am there for.  And the fact that I feel their hate is so influenced by politics from larger communities that have already treated me like garbage is also depressing.

 

It does make me suicidal, which is already part of my condition.  Severe mental illness is already life threatening, and to have additional stressors at any point of life participation puts me at extreme risk.  By now, no one is really counting on me as an example for young people or other vulnerable populations, because my writing career was also shut down. I know there is an artificial block on my book sales.  Even selling fifty books would have made a difference in my outlook about these financial violations against me.

 

So really what happens is that I am losing trust and faith in the conspiracy and torture programs that have helped me survive.  I know that some of these abuses are either prompted or allowed by the case management that has helped me stay alive or pretended to help because it was such a powerful way to thwart anything good from the south.

 

And the emotional pay off from some nice blessings have been taken back.  Sure, it’s for safety reasons, I would spend more money if I got manic, or make a bad decision.  But really I think too many people find it convenient for me to be heartbroken for my entire adulthood and for every free moment and sign of relief to immediately become part of an ongoing and contrived living hell.

 

Some medical treatment is hard to get through.  Chemotherapy, dentists appointments, shots, and torture care where the good guys have to camoflauge themselves as the bad guys.  Well I just think this time their performance was a little too convincing, and I am simply being criminally abused.

 

I don’t have to take it, I did not stay alive for this, and this is my last notice that I do not expect to survive through the end of this year.  I do not have to write a suicide note, I don’t have to give two weeks notice, I don’t have to seek any more fake medical care that chooses to play along with a survival charade while failing to protect me from overt abuse.

 

Goodbye, this is the last notice anyone will get about my forced decision to escape the worst people I have ever known through the only reliable means which is leaving this earth where even the good people wasted the valuable and heavily invested gift of my life and work.

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