October 2012 – trip to So Cal. All I noticed was that one car would be behind me for a while…………..then another. Not like when you are driving and see the same car on and off as you pass each other. THAT is normal

October 2012 – I think it was October. Someone stole a lot of pills from my cupboard. Antidepressants. Effexor. I was forced, at the time to get 90 days worth from CVS. Such a great policy.

By the way – Ask the retired teachers who have worked with me. In every classroom before 2012, I would always tell someone that I had bipolar disorder because I would have a few Effexor around as I had extremely fast withdrawal symptoms if I missed a dose.

2012-2013. I had a small locked box high up in a cupboard for my pills. I always keep them high up in a cupboard. I would also tell them because if I complained of not feeling well, I wanted them to ask me if I had taken my Effexor. Look it up. One doctor on an island had to have it brought to her because of the withdrawal. We are talking zapping feelings by the second day – sometimes sooner. Why not tell this assistant? Where do I begin. I don’t.

Gaslighting at home and work. My work computer was stolen. My job relies on me having a computer. I started bringing in my own computer. I had a lock for it to lock it down. I purchased a back up computer (which was stolen this past fall from my apartment).

One student tells the assistant and I that she had some mark from being hit with a belt. I make the report to Child Protective Services immediately. Later, the student asked me why I made the report. I started saying something. Her eyes lit up. She hadn’t been sure. CPS did counseling with Mom.

In the spring, Mom is always at a table right by the RSP room where I take part of the class for an hour. She appears to be video taping me or recording my voice. She is always there with her phone going. I have VERY difficult students. My incentive program wasn’t working very well. My assistant wouldn’t assist with it. I had started a different one. Principal and assistant both questioned me or made non supportive comments in front of the students.

Meanwhile, I am doing everything in my power to keep hold of medications. I was taking them over to a neighbor’s house and carrying what I needed on me.

One student had been called a baby all year by some classmates. I worked diligently to stop this behavior. The speech teacher and I worked together to do a “self regulating” and awareness program. That student was removed from the home along with two siblings. I went up to foster dad one day to talk about student’s behavior that day. Turns out the foster mom was one of the most powerful child advocate in the county. The principal didn’t ask me if I had called the student a baby OR assumed that I wouldn’t do such a thing. She just told me that I had been accused of calling the student a baby.

Small district. You don’t think that the district was worried. Considering all, I did a pretty good job. Helped the nurse and another teacher look over appropriate films for some students with developmental delays to look at for “THE” class –  which all the kids dread. Worked with the wonderful speech teacher (who wrote a letter of recommendation by the way). Started the year with the students at a school that was new to them and they didn’t expect to be at.

So, yes this was taking its toll. I was not longer an effective teacher. I dreaded work, but had no time to ponder this while trying to keep up with the gangstalking. In this case I would call it gangstalking. It was different than now. Really creepy people on campus. Oh, over the Christmas break, I actually went into the classroom New Years Eve day. I had to park at the gate because I had lost my gate key. Looking back,  I doubt I lost it. This year, one set of my car keys was stolen along with my two school keys. I found my pills in my classroom in a cupboard and I freaked out. I had a thing about not having pills around kids – Of course. I didn’t put them there.

Let’s just say that before this occurrence, I came across strange things that would be seen as creepy like an Agatha Christie book lying face down on the bed with the cover off. Not me. The book cover is red and the title is, “Murder for Christmas”.

I managed to get home New Year’s Eve (oh, I had told my husband we were getting divorced the previous April. I think he was preparing for me to say that for a long time. I went up to the bathroom to dump the pills in the toilet and was – let’s say – very upset. I have never seen things that weren’t there. I did hear a voice one time after 56 hours with no sleep – and months before not much sleep (serious depression). Anyway, the lights in the bathroom started flashing like Halloween lights do. If I had had my wits about me, I would have gotten the ladder and found whatever had been added to the light fixture. But I didn’t.

Anyway, I managed until April, I think. I needed to not be teaching. The vigilantes got what they wanted, but didn’t stop there. Ah, because their end game is complete destruction. I lasted until September, but was in a deep depression with anxiety. Not manic. Which wouldn’t matter anyway. Really people?

So, the Gangstalkers fed whatever keep at me until I went into that depression.

We have the justice system we do for a reason.

Oh, I risk the “I think she protests too much” when I say, I was drugged one night this past summer. But, I think whatever damage thrown out there was out there. It’s enough just for me to say that right? I thought twice before taking Tylenol, yet have been very responsible and on the ball with me medications. A person can be taking all their meds properly and that’s not enough – particularly with gangstalkers adding to the mix.

I am just going to say this because it is the truth. We cannot have a system of vigilante justice no matter what the crime. Have you heard of the innocent project? The number of people who they have gotten out of jail from examining DNA? Do you know how revengeful some people can be? Abraham Lincoln wrote and excellent speech on vigilante justice when he was in his late 20’s. Read it.

Oh – I didn’t realize until just recently – a few days ago – what someone expected me to do with those pills. Actually, it was the sweet neighbor across the way who mentioned someone killing themselves from saved up pills. Oh. Such a sweetheart.