Sylvanna Devlin

After all the hacking and harassment, the theft and mutilation, I’m a bit sensitive to potential threats now.

Paranoid.

Fairly so.

I don’t trust easily.

My PTSD is so fierce I sometimes actually do hear Psychiatric voices.

That’s been played into with people who lie and bitch on repeat to try to sound like they’re not real.

I’ve been gaslighted so heavily reality isn’t something I can snap back to and only exists of the physical before me.

So this “snap back to reality” bullshit has to go. Those are real people who aren’t in the room with me. But because who I talk to isn’t loud they’re not real to them.

Fucking bitches.

I could be on the phone, talking with someone else I can hear, a spirit guide, a ghost, god, or myself.

That’s real enough thank you.

My neighbor hears me drop things and reports to management I’m throwing things.

The most I sling is knickers into the laundry.

She bangs on the walls. And records it, reporting the lie to management.

I can’t even reach my wall and my fingers are too fragile anyway.

She uses the “I know you are but what am I” abuse tactic by accusing me of being the abusive one.

Abuse is about power and control. The only power I want is for her to shut up and I don’t have it. But any rebuke seems to crush her style.

She seems, like others, to want a passive punching bag that never talks back and “obeys” her commandments.

Now it’s possible she’s that foolish when it come to sound – she hears upstairs and thinks it’s me. She makes up stories of what she thinks is going on because she too needs to come back to reality.

Maybe her name calling when I won’t go to the hospital for crying is… I don’t know about that one. Maybe she doesn’t know that’s not okay.

But she said I screamed and I didn’t. But I certainly had loud crying at one point. Thank god I could get the banshees wail out.

Now I can’t.

But maybe that’s why other bitches have called me a crybaby – unaware that I was only recently able to cry again and my trauma they are compounding isn’t something they know.

They might not even understand.

But the gaslighting gets heavy when so complain about stigma. For some reason they think I’ll back down from telling the truth by lying and calling me abusive.

Again. To an abusive bitch any rebuttal or rebuke is now called “abusive”. Because it boils the blood of the victim.

Particularly when they are using reactive abuse.

Indeed boiling my blood is their goal. And my PTSD is soaring. Initially caused by topics we won’t mention, my ex spouse wove in terrifying reactive abuse – he wouldn’t stop. It became horrific when the only end to an argument was that he was removed by the police.

They say they want a shout or tears – for which I’d be called a crybaby. Then they’ll stop. The manipulative “evaluationsbremse”. Each of them.

I can’t survive another minute of my neighbor hearing upstairs drop something, and then accusing me of banging on the wall. She calls me abusive when I rebuke her.

I can’t take another moment of her responding to the sound of a falling box with “stop throwing things”

The fuck does she think is going on in here?

Oh yeah. Her stigma is clouding her judgement.

She seems to treat mental illness as mental incapacity and an opportunity to be bossy as fuck. And if I tell her to l leave me alone, she calls me abusive.

I came so close to suicide recently, I backed off. But it was because my PTSD is being triggered by their reactive abuse so constantly I don’t know what to do.

I’m keeping a log now. And apparently saying nothing but putting it in a journal is abusive.

For fucks sake I can’t even escape. I have nowhere to go. I might as well take a permanent end.

I’m really worried that I’ll go from trying to pull it together to a successful suicide attempt very, very quickly.

I start to get better and I’m shat on. I write a their abuse. And bitches comment on it – making threats and demands, calling me names.

I do wonder if they haven’t actually been as abused as I have been and don’t really know what it means. Because they don’t act like former victims for sure.

They only leave me alone when I’m just sitting and thinking for hours on end – except my neighbor calling me abusive when I haven’t said or done anything.

I keep giving up. Why improve when a cunts claws will soon follow.

Why?