Sylvanna Devlin

I’ve given up hope before – and when hope dies, change. But I couldn’t stop an AI from chasing me. So a change in environment wasn’t going to solve anything. I felt trapped- unable to escape a vicious gaslighting troll bot and the building hen pecking.

And at that point most was pumped in.

Cumulative abuse was too much on top of everything I had been through. It shredded me down to nothing.

Tipped over the edge, after all I had been through, “no one can survive all that.”

And I couldn’t.

I see why the living complain about the suicidal and how those of us who are desperate for change can’t see another way. The former unable to relate to the reasoning of the latter.

Those who reached such desperation needed hope, and to get it back they need something to change, and the judgement of strangers doesn’t exactly help one feel better about surviving.

My family made a fuss of me. My mother sending what she could to cheer me up, many things that changed my immediate environment or to fool around with things like waxing or hair – as I view self care as caring for my physical self and appearance.

No I didn’t “feel pretty enough on the outside to feel pretty on the inside”.

Kind and caring I may be, I was seeped in depression and comments like that made worse.

While trying to avoid the edge again.

I couldn’t leave my location so it got better sorted out. And my body was addressed too. My technological needs provided for by me.

You can complain that the social security taxes I paid for years were already being used instead of retirement.

You can complain supplemental social security doesn’t really take that into account.

But you’re bitching about practical and near esoteric supplies for someone hacked, suicidal, and with little reason to live but the immediate hope things could improve.

Maybe you should think again.

The point being diverted from anyway. My family tried to make my situation change and when I recovered enough from my attempt- a goof four months later. The hen pecking truly began.

I was bedridden for six months after pills really should have did me in. And I wasn’t going to survive a second attempt. But that didn’t stop others from trying to control me.

God I must be irresistible to controlling abusive types. I don’t even need a relationship or attraction for that.

And people wonder why I’m still single.

Now a new weapon was again being tested on me, and I truly became a bullseye for what everyone claimed was all of Portland.

But who could tell after all the gaslighting and attempts to snuff out my rebuilding fire.

I had been writing again – the spiritual books as initially a series of blog posts. And I had been delving into cognitive dysfunction and insults (not always related but sometimes)

I was moving on from deep examination of abuse. I had a work to do, releasing the ideas piece by piece and then brushed through into books.

As I’m disabled still that was really what I could contribute back.

But the hen pecking and cognitive abuse, the trollbot the demands and torture intensified with every word.

And the lies, my goodness the lies. Some obscene- all the work of a rebuked abuser. Because those who lose control spiral out with their behavior whether it lacks logic or not. (Usually it lacks logic)

So every word of compassion did nothing and every mention of dysfunction was blown out of proportion. No one was listening to what I said. Her words were more salacious.

Come now.

We all now need hope. That weapon is here in the world and buyers are tempted to use it to control their conquered populace – or will be so if it’s successful.

We need to come up with change together. Because otherwise our hope will permanently die.