"My work may be garbage but it's good garbage." Mickey Spillane
If I did this right, I have a very small list of people who can see this post.
Today I started getting crazy. That’s usually the first sign that I’m heading into an episode with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Then the flashbacks started.
Maybe if I had not been so tired I would have noticed the signs sooner. I spent years in cognitive therapy learning to recognize my triggers so I could turn them off by being conscious of them. It has helped a lot. But sometimes things pile up so big that I can’t handle them.
In addition to Strikethrough 2007, I was having to deal with two people who have been stalking me. One of them I call Mr. Nameless. The other one has the handle of Al_kilyu.
Three at once was more than I could handle.
The smear campaigns started up again. Al takes things out of context and blows them up. I’m currently being called the “psychotic cunt.”
Mr. Nameless simply creates them out of whole cloth because he has a mental disorder.
The one thing that I am holding onto as hope is that Patricia Cornwell will win her lawsuit against her stalker who has been doing a lot of the same things to her that Nameless and Al have been doing to me.
If she wins it, it will set a legal precedence.
Until now, when an author has filed an internet harassment/stalking suit, the judge has ruled in favor of the defendant because of the existence of bans and blocking. However, as most of us have probably discovered over the years, they don’t really work well. There’s too many ways around them.
Al has been telling people that I’m some kind of pedophile, that I write father son slash about Nameless. That’s to get Nameless and others to go after me. And he succeeded, he provoked Nameless into going after me again.
Having all of that in a 48 hour period was more than I could handle.
Stress overrode the muscle relaxants and I ended up with bad episodes of violent cramps and spasms along my left side. And that did not help either.
Right now I’m working on getting two books finished. My publisher is nagging me. That doesn’t help either.
I get one turned in and then I get “where’s the next one” as soon as the editorial meetings are finished. Jean is a slave driver at times. Last year Jean kept shoving more projects at me faster than I could get any of them finished. They kept piling up at a crazy rate and I had to start saying no to her.
My daughter wants help on her new comic book. She has awakened me twice this week with panicked phone calls.
What’s the old saying? When it rains, it pours.
Now I’m going to click the custom friends group and see what happens.