I have, as the article attests, been so gaslighted I didn’t know anything anymore. Perhaps another attempt at “Gaslight her to Death”. But I sank into and became Oblivion. I was not shattered I was submerged up and down in an entire disconnect from reality and any sense of self.
Anyone else would have killed themselves.
First I formed a connection with the goddess, then I ceased to be – including any idea of life or death. It’s impossible to express the kind of wipe that took about three months leading up and 72 hours intensely harassed and awake.
Every attempt at sleep interrupted by a false but interesting narrative that could not be ignored.
Most times reactive abuse is levied on me. To a cumulative effect. That and hacking, threatening, and stealing.
But I was wiped not by the false reality they were bending and twisting into being, but the gaslighting of what had happened and was being said.
It was really quite clever.
And should be outlawed.
To the actors involved they were ad-libbing a script into existence – fed lines and storylines by an interesting AI.
A weapons test.
That I could ignore if fully automated.
The people had to be live.
And I’m not sure those using the weapon knew the significance of live interaction with people not disembodied voices. Not in the flesh but of flesh anyway.
They didn’t know why, but they certainly used it.
One too many times.
The latest weaving is mistaken identity of a terrorists wife – with an actor testing every piece of storyline and the AI responding quickly to my actions. Everything right until it’s wrong.
They even tried to tell me what the spirits in here were doing, wherefore and what to worry about.
Presumptuous bitches
But I suppose they’re just following a formula for a quickly written script.
Sylvanna – Now Nepenthe by their interaction does something according to an impulse she “hears”
That’s a test. That’s right. That’s Nepenthe.
I’m waiting for
No. Now he’s angry. He won’t have you.
Like my end of existence is marriage and not the five pages of things to do to keep me going each a small reason to live.
I developed a sense of set theory on my own – as clear as algebra which was just arithmetic and thus I annoyed my teachers because no work was involved. To me anyway.
Not algebraic in nature unless you consider that as a basis for developing algorithms.
But the mathematical concept of how to study patterns or patterns. Interesting to the NSA and likely established.
But not by someone who was last in a mathematics course in 1995 and barely remembers notation.
I’m interested in it enough to pursue it. And some reactions were genuine surprise and pleasure (of a kind). Developing mathematical theory is an interesting sign of intelligence.
And I felt it perhaps necessary to point out the definition of intelligence and Genius. Each having variety.
But in this country a woman can’t admit to being highly intelligent.
Highly talented and skilled in writing.
Mathematically gifted.
You complain my looks are wasted and say I’m arrogant for being willing to consider myself pretty.
For fucks sake.
I am 47. I’m not hiding my abilities and advantages any longer. Self awareness is not the same as arrogance.
Claiming my existence is superior is arrogance. Claiming I have a different role and particular talents is emerging from the closet.
I’ve been writing 38 years. I should be skilled by now. I may have talent but I’ve been buried in words my whole life.
But while some react well women tried to claim Set theory wasn’t real, or if it was they learned all there is to know learning ven diagrams, or if there’s more other people have studied it all.
Oh shut up.
I’m now convinced “stupid bitch” is a setting on a storyline that takes my truth, creates a false reality, then pretends to be foolish attempts to gaslight me.
Though it might not be considered foolish by the standards of the handler.
I either get angry that the stupid bitch won’t shut up with stupid ideas. Or I believe the stupid bitch and don’t know what part is real anymore.
Reality abuse, and gaslighting. A win whether I fall for bullshit or am angered by it.
Surely now you’ll see a beast.
Prove this all worthwhile.
I’ll either froth into madness and collapse or just collapse.
How about I not?
I am mathematically gifted, some. Genuinely recognized that attacking the particularly intelligent village sweetheart wasn’t a good idea. Either to start or anymore.
But “the stupid bitch” wants a whore.
She’s not real. But the theft, hacking, and mutilation were. The threats of rape supposedly backed up by kicking and clicking. The door barred as paranoia is indeed reasonable.
Gaslighting alone kills, making one paranoid is a stepping stone. It’s already been lethal to me. But one or two deaths and two attempts is not enough.
How clever I am may silence my intrusive neighbors.
Looks may shield me by piquing interest.
Ideas may protect me.
And god certainly does.
As does the spirit world.
But it’s not enough. I get walking papers with no car and nowhere to go? I have stated clearly is a lethal move.
“Oh goodie”
Yeah, that’s what youn want.
Bottom line you tested a weapon that is questionable whether it succeeds in a reasonable time. Maybe intended for control – as it was working on everyone else.
Until it became lethal.
And you gaslighted the public on reasons. Terrorism. Mistaken identity. Snuff film. Jealousy, exposure via a book.
Or maybe that I know your every tactic and pattern and that’s not good for either of us.
You may intend control. But it is a short term and horrific method. You started prodding at me July, 29, 2022.
You built, twisted and tortured a way to test control.
And didn’t succeed.
A woman’s idea of crowd control. Cruel and manipulative what to you care if a hostage kill’s herself? Indeed now my death is looking desirable to you.
It’s about control.
Control of me.
Control of perceptions of me.
Control of public perceptions.
Control of law enforcement.
Control of intelligence services.
And I’m supposed to be step one but have been awfully chatty about my observations.
But I’m an immigrant and patriot.
The government service move too close and you up the anty to target them. They step away and you torture me until they return and I accepted but didn’t like that I could be seen as a strategic casualty.
But that’s one method of countering you as ignoring the problem, well observing it with some intervention, isn’t working out for anyone.
You’re spreading to my surroundings. The people around me. Just have to prove your point and surely I’ll die proper this time.
But this is America of the no man left behind variety. And you are fucking with my intellectual equals – so we’re fond of each other without talking.
I hang on.
P.S. now the argument is: that while this was the case, now it’s purely about power and control for the petty reason that they want me to conform – not get better unless it’s in the way they want.
I think I preferred the reason when it was terrorism because at least that ends.
But by their reports that’s now over and it’s just a bunch of manipulative assholes using technology left behind.
It doesn’t stop because they don’t seem to understand that just as silence is not consent it is not agreement with your ideas or instructions. If I don’t push back it’s not because I didn’t notice.
It’s because I’m exhausted of you.
Come back to reality, etc and so forth.
I don’t push back you get worse.
I push back I feel worse because my PTSD is triggered by being angry.
And you can’t use reactive abuse then complain it works. You work all our last nerves. Of course we’re angry.
I don’t know what to do or think now. “Because we can” should be more aiming for the stars not this mean girls crap.
Like, seriously.
Just as I long ago reigned in any desire to take my anger out on objects – as they would then be broken. I can’t let off steam or push back without damaging my own soul. But their abuse is killing me.
I really don’t know what to do.
Do I listen that I made a bargain to stay in another year – cut off from the external world. Or is that, as they said, gaslighting and it just means I’m trapped as their punching bag another year.
Is this really so petty?
Who am I to believe? I was willing to accept a slew of agreements to stop them. But then toxic femininity became an issue. Theirs. Is this a clever way of drawing focus?
Or that stupid?
It’s one or the other and erring on the side of caution forces me to put up with them for another year.
Someone is going to have to say something to me at some point that isn’t a pack of lies, giggle giggle, let’s see what she believes- or makes me willing to do or not do quite a bit, just to get you to hold your tongue.
You “just said, ‘come back to reality’”
And my answer is – not if you’re in it.
Sylvanna Devlin 
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