Some of my readers…

Some people come here to be nosey. There are people who behaved so badly as neighbours that they were mentioned in my blog. I never say where I live, and would never put my address on here.

They moved because they were stupid and don’t realise there are many people with that last name here.

I am so glad they are that stupid as they made my life untenable and refused requests from the council and even the police to stop causing me agonising pain.

Who does that? Who knowingly causes unbearable pain to another human being? Torture is a war crime. They were torturing me.

They send their minions to hassle me. They don’t live a purposeful life. They live with bitterness and unkindness.

I am enjoying better neighbours now. I have made a window box for them and passed some of my daughter’s childhood things to their children.

I enjoy giving pleasure to others. I always have.

The previous neighbour believed me to have fake accounts. I’m not sure what that means. The flowers I sent were returned. She has written to other people about me maliciously.

What a tiny, sad, mind.

A very painful night…

I omitted to say, yesterday, that my poem was published by Poetry Bar. It was written in August.

Yesterday, a girl who was giving me help was incredibly rude to me. It came out of nowhere, and shocked me to the core. My mood flipped into negativity and adrenalin flooded my nervous system.

I managed to counter the negativity. Adrenalin, however, is my worst nightmare. It provokes muscles spasms that are part of the disease that struck me down.

I spent the whole night writhing with agonising muscle tension. It made me very aware of the bruise on the back of my pelvis. My shoulders were tortured, my arms, my legs, and especially my spine. Every muscle was fighting with my body. It was the worst night of my life in years and years.

I am very tired, I ache, and I plan to sleep. I cannot allow this to destroy my well-being any further. I feel so isolated though, as I seem to be the only person in the country living with this disease. This is what scares me. There is no research going on. There is no medicine that helps me.

I put my trust in God. Darkness lasts for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

The Press…

Last week I was contacted by The Metro, a London newspaper who had seen my petition about consulting neighbours before installing noise making things that cause disturbance. They wanted my story, why this had happened and so on.

I told them how the letting agency for my neighbours, Quay Living, had been told a pack of lies about me by a former neighbour and how this would never have happened if I had not dropped my complaint to the police about being sexually assaulted. I told them how my neurological disease is affected by high pitched sounds.

No decent person doesn’t realise that telling lies about someone will affect their future. Only a psychotic person who thinks only of themselves does not think about it. The lies told about me have changed my new neighbours attitude toward me and they are being incredibly cruel. Who knowingly inflicts agony on someone??

I got told I have too much ‘stuff’ by Michael Ebsworth. Well, he’s had about 12 addresses the last 25 years while I have been bringing up a daughter on my own. Daughters like ‘stuff’ and they give their mothers ‘stuff’ and it’s hard to let go of that stuff.

I am a prisoner in my bedroom. I eat here, I watch TV here, I write, Read and sleep here. All because of the wind chimes. I roll around in agony here. No one would believe how I’m forced to live because of my neighbours, because they were told lies.