And They Say I’m Nutz

My story summary: In 2012, after seven years on the job, my former higher education employer wanted to silence me as progressive student first teacher. The most cruel and sexist attack was launched. I was sent to hack shrinks, removed from the classroom, not paid, and suicide swatted with false police reports claiming that I was suicidal when I was not. I was abducted from my home by all white male sexist police, taken to a Catholic looney bin built by the nasty nuns of my youth and kept without need against the law for a week. And that was just the first year of my hell, which has not abated, but grown, because I dared to tell my story and ask for justice in response to civil rights violations and criminal psychiatry.

And they say I’m nutz.

People have a lot of nerve.

They must steal it.

~ * ~

I was kicked off Twitter for trying to save my life and trying to follow the rules.

Donald Trump gets to use Twitter to destroy the world order.

Behold the double whammy of sexism and power.

~ * ~

Trolls attacked me again.

I’m kicked off Facebook again.

Which has happened so many times.

I want to break free of this cycle, since the hope I might save my life on Facebook has not panned out.

~ * ~

My criminal attackers still want me silenced.

~ * ~

The only people who follow me and take action to silence me are not interested in community policing.

~ * ~

Kicked off Facebook for what?

Bullying? Naming my attackers.

Hate speech? Catholics are sexist.

Insulting the president? Trump is bat shit crazy.

Insulting my attackers? William MacQueen is my Larry Nassar.

Reasonably feeling pain? Torture is not welcome. Death would be better.’

Using metaphors? Jesus raped the life out of me.

~ * ~

Simultaneously, I was suicide swatted a couple times, despite my repeated request to not be suicide swatted, to let me express my pain.

Suicide swatted.

Again.

For the millionth time.

~ * ~

You can’t imagine the tsunami of powerful emotions that comes with knowing there are assholes in this world who want me to re-live suicide swatting.

Who want me to feel pain.

And maybe kill myself.

~ * ~

I give up on Facebook.

I wish, deeply, after trying all this time to escape witchhunt but failing, I could give up on this world, but I am not suicidal.

I have been telling the world over and over: I never met Dr. Andrew Muzychka at St. Mary Merciless, not on February 22, 2013, or at any time I was held illegally, unnecessarily and with terrible in human cruelty through February 28, 2013.

Held because of suicide swatting by my federally documented abusive employer, Land of Motown Community College, and my poorly trained hometown Livonia Police sexist Fuck the Bitch Squad.

But no one listens.

That’s sexism, motherf*ckers.

My reality: No one cares.

No one helps end the hell.

Trolls attack relentlessly.

Sarcasm, my natural voice: I wish the pain, fallout, terror and loss would kill me already.

~ * ~

Life is complicated.

So is death.

~ * ~

My life for most of the last decade: criminally mentally abused since 2012, not equally protected, the victim of retaliation, suicide swatted repeatedly, isolated, impoverished, traumatized over and over, set up repeatedly.

For real.

Without any reason to think things will improve, I am able to reason and realize things will probably only get worse because my ability to earn money has been decimated.

Worse than homeless, which is already too horrible to consider.

Homeless with this story?

Read it.

They’ll lock me up again.

Being caged is worse than death.

So death would be better for a long time.

~ * ~

I am not happy about this truth.

But mine is not a wonderful life.

Or a movie.

~ * ~

I have never been suicidal.

The thought imposed upon by criminal and civil attack terrifies me.

I can’t imagine doing it.

But, at this point, ironically, how else can I control and escape my story to protect myself from further attack and fallout?

I may sound dramatic, but my concerns are documented.

~ * ~

I wish things were different.

I would like to be my formally charming self, finally free from the Land of Motown Community College witchhunt and “suicide” affixed to me by attack.

I would like to smile again instead of cry so much.

~ * ~

I have been trying like mad to save my life for over seven solid years of plot twists, but I have failed.

Things only get worse.

I’m stuck in imposed poverty’s downward flush.

For real.

~ * ~

My life is a danger to my life.

Mental abuse is torture, as I have been crying for years.

What if I finally actually crack?

Because my crazy epic-length #metoo story is smothering me.

~ * ~

A woman of a certain age can not defend herself against charges of crazy dangerous instigated and upheld by a network of powerful sexist players, which my Larry Nasar well understood when he planned his attack.

~ * ~

So, by my calculations, death would be better than suffering, which does not, dumb bunny American, gullible to Trump nonsense and Russian interference, make me suicidal.

I do not want to find myself in a position where I think suicide is better than the alternative designed for me.

Like I don’t want to be hit by a car or crash in an airplane.

~ * ~

Because I will run out money soon and can’t get a job due to my story, I fear so very deeply that I will need to study up on suicide, I say with trepidation, honestly, hoping someone will listen and step in to fix criminal civil and human rights wrongs.

I am not suicidal.

I have never been suicidal.

The term was applied to me as a weapon, the act of which is torture.

I’m in limbo.

I can’t save my life alone.

I need a civil rights lawyer and press, which have been elusive.

I hope a miracle will happen, but I don’t believe in unicorns.

I haven’t seen any unicorns yet.

~ * ~

Meanwhile, the president of the United States is truly nutz.

The emperor is naked and a sight for closed eyes.

~ * ~

I don’t need to worry about being politically correct at Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.

I spend my holidays with a dog and a bird.

~ * ~

I am 56 years old, not a young person.

I have no children or people.

I have been telling social media, government and press for years I was set up and never met the doctor who locked me up in a looney bin, but from a safe distance without contact everyone in the world acts like what happened to me never happened to me.

Isolation.

Gaslighting.

~ * ~

The bigger picture.

Context.

Michigan is a sexist cesspool, in too many ways.

Recently, the white male Republican majority leader called the female Democratic governor “bat-shit crazy” at Christian Hopedale College.

And to my knowledge, no Republican on or off campus, in the entire state, stood up and said foul play, unacceptable.

Not in Larry Nassar’s Michigan.

Intellectually, too many men in power in the west act like they’re some kind of Pope Jesus, which a woman can never get away with.

I see Christianity’s destructive force.

It seems not many do not, or do not care.

~ * ~

Do I need to be a Russian, a White nationalist or a Fox News intolerant to be safe from trolls on Youtube, Twitter and Facebook?

~ * ~

Only here, I guess, within my one-woman, online leper colony, can I say what I need to say, to manage criminal mental abuse allowed to escalate into mental torture years ago.

Too many years ago.

~ * ~

I write and talk to myself about retaliatory violence like an artist, to blow steam, so I don’t explode or crack.

~ * ~

Think filmmakers, comic book artists and makeup designers in Hollywood if you read my metaphoric violence and anger in response to my cage.

~ * ~

I take much care to use “god” or “jesus” in the grammatical subject position of my steam-release rants, and do not threaten that “I” will hurt anyone or anything.

Example angry equal protection curse which I cleanse my way through:

“Catholic Jesus, of Livonia , Michigan, mind rape the living f*ck out of every American, not just me. So I can compete.”

I can’t heal without acknowledgement, so I must deal with anger.

~ * ~

My array of reactions over the nearly decade of sexist criminal mental health care witchhunt does not display non-existent “bi polar,” for which there is no scientific basis, but more like the cycle of day and night in a long restlessness fight against attack.

I have worked through hatred over and over and over and over.

~ * ~

I like to paint the pope in red outfit, though the real one seems to often wear white.

~ * ~

The Catholic Church I rejected personally and spiritually should have NEVER been included in my civic life by my higher ed employer and sexist hometown police.

This clear civil rights infraction was purposely buried by state of Michigan authorities.

~ * ~

This out doors civil rights protest sign began in the dark.

However, as self-therapy in my constant push back to the light, by my hand, revised, the sun rose, and the language and tone changed more positively.

Still the Catholics refused to do the right thing by me.

~ * ~

I draw.

I tell fictional tales instead of taking violent action.

I spin words and pictures about what should happen to my attackers who are getting away with my murder in some fictional alter reality.

My attackers should be raped and tortured for my Jesus mind rape and full life torture, intellectually.

They aren’t word that should happen in real life.

They are word therapy, for pretend, occurring by my hand in ima-gina-tionland only.

~ * ~

Meanwhile, violence enacted against me has been real.

I was abducted from my home, in shackles, not charged with a crime, set up by my former higher ed employer gone unchecked, escorted by force but unnecessarily by my hometown Livonia Police Fuck the Bitch Squad.

I was held, undressed, shackled, drugged, knocked out, human trafficked. And more.

Read my story.

It’s unbelievable but true.

~ * ~

Violence against me has been ignored 100% by my society, estranged sexist Catholic family and former friends.

That’s physical violence plus emotional violence.

~ * ~

It is NOT okay for my world to ignore the criminal mental and physical violence committed against me like it never happened.

To pretend I have not been treated violently, criminally, inhumanely is gaslighting.

And painful like no one else can imagine.

~ * ~

Is there another case of higher ed gaslighting?

About which government and press know and have done nothing to stop for years?

In the age of supposed suicide awareness?

~ * ~

Mind raping me, shackling me hands and foot, using my body as psychiatric experiment for medical billing purposes is NOT okay.

Using my body as a whipping post for political gain–thinking of former state attorney general, Bill Schuette’s denial of equal protection and retaliation with state police in 2015—is NOT okay.

I should not need protest signs.

Crimes were committed, civil rights violated.

No question.

~ * ~

To help me cope, I think of all online trolls who dog me as the pussy grabber in chief.

~ * ~

What was bat-shit crazy Bad King Trump celebrating the morning I was silenced?

When he pasted his head on Rocky?

~ * ~

It adds to my pain that the president of the United States is delusional bat shit narcissistic egotistical grandiose crazy.

Documented.