Prisoner of Love

I turned 50 last month and I've never been in love. There are several reasons for it, but the two main reasons are, one, that I didn't love myself, and two, that I was born into a family that was so devoid of kindness and compassion that their only love language was gaslighting and manipulation. My childhood was rife with greed and envy masquerading as love. I'm getting better at distinguishing feigned devotion from authentic love, but it's been a long journey.

There was one source of true love in my childhood, and that was my grandma, Laverne. Her love for me never waivered - even when I behaved stubbornly, or when dysregulated emotions caused me to lash out in anger and frustration. Her love was strong. Her radiance made such an impact that it still sustains me today. My childhood was wicked - it was isolating, lonely, painful, and cold. When I was with my gram the world was beautiful, sunny, abundant with possibility. She made me forget that I was surrounded by venomous snakes donning familiar faces. She taught me to be kind to others, even if they'd mistreated me. She would tell me to forgive them because the weight of carrying a grudge clouds our judgement and impacts our outlook on life. She would tell me to mind my words and actions because we never know which way the winds of Karma will blow. She was the only person who saw the real me—not the misleading version of me that my parent presented to the world. My Gram taught me to pray, not just for myself, but also for those who come against me. I used to plead with God to never take my Gram from me. I offered myself up instead, because I didn't want to live in this cruel world without her. As I got older, I stopped believing in God and I stopped praying altogether. If there was a God, then God despised me.

When I went to college, I felt free for the first time. Free from family, free from the physical and metaphorical poverty of my childhood, free from the judgmental stares and whispers from the community that enabled my family's depraved perversion with stalking me. I felt free, but I was still shackled to my past through unresolved trauma. Trauma that led me to make bad choices, like experimenting with drugs and alcohol. Substances dulled the sharp edges of my trauma, and the altered state of mind allowed me to relax and provided a brief reprieve from the perpetual anxiety of my day-to-day existence. I started experimenting with the effects of drugs in high school, but I didn't really get into alcohol until my 20's. I dropped out of Pitt after two years and moved to Orlando. Club-hopping and night life filled my weekends. I drank too much, slept too little, and I was starting to burn out when I got pregnant with my daughter. After she was born, I used drugs a couple times, but I didn't want to be that kind of parent to her. Aside from cannabis, I didn't use drugs outside of my 20's, despite what manipulated photos, and out of context statements my predator parent and copycat sibling presented as evidence so they could slander my name and steal from me. The only crime I committed against these two was to cut ties and walk away. I chose a path of peace. They chose one of destruction.

I may have steered clear of drug usage after my 20's, but alcohol was a different story. I had an on/off relationship with drinking up until about six years ago. I had periods of absolute sobriety intermingled with periods of flippant, often excessive, social drinking. There were some dark and lonely times when I drank alone, isolated at home. The last time was almost the end of me. I chose to heal instead. Like the flip of a switch, once I cut the toxic relationships out of my life, I no longer felt the need to drink in excess, I actually hated the feeling of being drunk, or in an altered state after that. The last few times I went out to have a few drinks and be social, my drinks were dosed with something. Now I don't drink at all.

My ex used to dose my food and drinks to get me to act out of character. He used the videos of me to show the court that I was unfit to handle my inheritance. He and I separated in 2018, but our marriage had been long over by that time. I don't think we even kissed after my son was born in 2011. We just co-existed. He was emotionally and mentally abusive. He was an angry drunk who terrorized his family because he blamed us for everything that was wrong with his life. He was callous and vile with his temper. Most days we just avoided being in the same room as him. I didn't care that he was seeing other people. I didn't care that he was sleeping with my sibling. I just didn't care. The only thing that I cared about was that his drinking and infidelity robbed my children of a lot of experiences that I had hoped to provide for them. I hadn't known it then, but his smear campaign against me had already begun - he needed me to be the one who cheated, lied, drank, and ruined our family, so that he wasn't seen for the abusive monster he was to us. When we finally separated in 2018, I was working for a corrupt health insurance brokerage in Beaverton, OR. My manager, Jessica, didn't like me at all, maybe because I was so different from her. Her dislike for me was so intense that she recruited a male colleague, Andrew, to pretend to be my friend so that she would be privy to the personal details of my life. The two of them launched their own smear campaign against me. As a group, my family, my manager/male colleague, and my ex plus his creepy, exceedingly criminal family, recruited everybody out of my life. They drafted people I dated, old friends, former roommates, neighbors, people I went to grad school with, maintenance workers at my apartment complex, staff at my local neighborhood bar, people I said hi to, and total strangers, to slander my name to make sure I was unable to find a job in my field. They stole my identity, destroyed my business reputation before I could get it off the ground, they hacked my devices (phone/computer), and stole everything that tried to come my way. Currently, they're committing bank fraud, and Key Bank refuses to acknowledge the blatantly obvious fraud that's right in front of their faces. My ex used funds — funds that were meant to pay for my daughter's college tuition — to incentivize people to stalk and harass me. People who allowed themselves to become collateral damage to a group of narcissists who are hell-bent on taking me down, simply because I had the sense to walk away from their lies and exploitations. I don't believe most of them had bad intentions at first, but they were tempted by a demon's offerings and saw the financial incentives as an easy come-up. What they failed to realize is that those 'gifts' come at a huge cost. They were only pawns used to create distractions so the true monsters could remain hidden and undetected. Now they're implemented in crimes they'll be shocked to realize are attached to their name, but they chose to accept the incentives to gang-stalk me and my children Their greed and desire for an easy route to financial freedom, has solidified their downfall. They'll likely be mortified to realize the crimes and felonies they were aiding and abetting - Theft, sexual assault, drugging, insurance fraud, bank fraud, mail fraud, identity theft, child abuse, perjury in a court of law, poisoning, distribution of non-consensual pornographic materials, and allegedly, murder, and attempted murder. If they had known my Gram, she would have told them that nothing of value in life comes easily.

I've forgiven all of the people who have lied on me and enabled the complete collapse of my life and financial wellbeing. I know that they're victims of their own traumas, addictions, and greed. Despite the chaos that surrounds me, I've found a peaceful calm that I've waited my whole life to feel. They are still stalking me, and stealing from me, but they can't take the peace that I've found. I've been staying at home, living in my halcyon bubble where I relax, meditate, do yoga and hang out with my son. I've been reading my way through a stack of books, listening to FM radio since my record player broke, I communicate with my daughter through email, and I rarely turn my phone on anymore. Aside from my children, I don't have a single friend or family member left, and I'm happy. My peace comes at the price of being terribly lonely at times, but at least I trust everyone in my life. I always wanted to see the good in people, and it took all of these people hurting me for me to finally stand up for myself.

I'm far from perfect, but I don't deserve any of this. I've made a ton of mistakes, and God-willing I'll keep making them, but I've also absorbed the lessons that come along with those mistakes, and I corrected course. We learn from our failures, not our successes. I haven't done anything to the people that chose to come against me - if I did, it was never my intent to harm. I had love, and sometimes respect, for a lot of these people, I pray that they can heal from their toxic ways, but honestly, prison would be a respite for most of these criminals. Their punishments aren't up to me, and I don't seek revenge against any of them, only justice.

I've healed a lot of my trauma and I've severed the chains that bound me to my sordid past. I love the solitude and peace that I've found being isolated, but my son and I deserve to be able to leave home without fear of being followed, or bothered. For now, I've turned everything over to the Most High to sort out and I'm confident that we'll be able to emerge from our protective cocoon soon.

**For anyone who's read my story and wonders why I haven't called the police — there are two reasons, 1) Narcissists cover their tracks really well (but I can assure you that there is more than enough evidence to warrant arrests). 2) My Ex husband has spent several nights sleeping off benders in the drunk tank of my local precinct, Hillsboro (Tanasbourne) PD. He's also accumulated a couple DUI's. These opportunities may have allowed him to build rapport with some officers. I DID call the police twice, once when I realized documents and Intellectual property (IP) had been stolen from my business computer, and again when I realized that tracking software had been installed on my laptop - I was literally scoffed at by male officers and told that no crime had been committed. So calling the police is not an option.