Trapped in Harassment

Trapped in Harassment

I don’t understand why I’m still being harassed. For over two or three years now, I’ve been forced to guess why certain people keep coming after me, tormenting me with the weirdest and darkest things. They say things like “clean your teeth.” What the hell is that even supposed to mean? They mock me with nonsense, twist my reality, and leave me questioning my own sanity while they sit back and feed on my suffering.

This harassment has been constant, unrelenting, and cruel. It doesn’t come from just one place—it feels orchestrated, as though multiple hands are playing a sick, manipulative game. They say things like “Jeffrey caused this.” They drag names into it: the Irishes, Webbs, Russells, Livingstons, and so many others. They throw the Odd Fellows under the bus. They twist it in such a way that directly identifying them is nearly impossible without involving the police again. They use technology—voice modulators, mimicers, anonymous accounts—to hide behind masks, to make me doubt myself, and to cover their tracks.

And yet, even if I did know who it was, (I am aware of some of those involved) I cannot imagine putting any of them in prison, no matter how cruel or evil they are being to me. That’s not who I am. That’s not my nature. I am someone who, if I feel guilt or shame, I do everything I can to correct it—because shame is a god-awful place to live. If I’ve wronged someone without knowing, I’ll do everything in my power to make it right. I take ownership of my actions—good or bad. That’s the kind of person I am.

So I don’t understand why the harassment continues. They keep telling me I have to “do something to get my husband back.” They dangle cruel promises like, “When you figure it out, you’ll be astonished.” But it’s all manipulation. It’s a carrot on a stick I will never reach. And this has gone on for well over two years now. It hasn’t stopped. It hasn’t even slowed.

Whoever is behind this is purely, truly evil. They’ve taken everything from me that ever made my life worth anything. They’ve stripped me of joy, of peace, of connection. They’ve destroyed me in ways that are inconceivable. They have reduced me to a shell of who I once was, and they revel in it.

They play games with my mind. They warp the narrative, pit families and names against each other, and then leave me in the rubble, trying to figure out what’s real and what’s not. They whisper lies and half-truths, as if the torment alone is the point—not justice, not correction, just cruelty for its own sake.

I know I will never find peace again because of this torment. And when I die, know this: it was because of them. This is not weakness speaking, but truth. The time feels like it’s coming very fast. I cannot take the harassment anymore.

This is what their cruelty has done. This is the weight I carry every single day. This is the cost of their endless game. And if my life ends under this weight, understand that it was not me who killed me. It was them—their voices, their manipulation, their lies, their relentless abuse—that drove me here.

They have contributed directly to at least six suicide attempts in the past three years. The harassment ranges from filthy sexual attacks to embezzlement and all sorts of other things—I mean literally the gamut. They have actively taunted me to kill myself. They actively try to coerce me into doing illegal activities. At times, they will confront me with the most outrageous of claims.

You know me: I don’t have a problem owning anything I’ve ever done. And I can tell you with certainty that there is nothing here that my husband, my ex-husband, or myself have done that warrants any of this. This has been confirmed so far by police, mental health professionals, and medical professionals.

It’s heartbreaking that, because of who a couple of these people are, I can’t move forward with charges without causing harm to people I love and care about.