For Notez

by: mishi

Posted on: 07-21-2009 @ 12:23 pm

 

 

Tuesday 21 July 2009   Turners

Notez, thanks for your comment of July 2. I know I’ve had the depression and anxiety since childhood, and many therapists over the years have confirmed that. The PTSD was diagnosed in 1999 by a long-term therapist. And though I’ve believed myself for four years that I have Aspergers, I have so far only Matthew’s word for it. As I’ve said before, tests (they certainly looked like tests) were run on me last year in public. Matthew took me to one of them. He explained yet another one to me, as I didn’t understand what it was testing. When these events were over, Matthew told me I had Aspergers. Who and what is Matthew? I still believe he’s an undercover agent or detective, until someone proves to me that he’s a hoaxter. But you will all believe whatever gives you the least discomfort.

As for the streets, they are no place for ANYONE. But I would say least of all for a 55-year-old woman with physical illnesses and psychological ones too. But this is how the Department of Mental Health left me 16 months ago, and they didn’t care. And Matthew, supposedly protecting me all last year from a gangland bullet, and supposedly in love with me, has not cared either.

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So much is still the same

Page

by: mishiPosted on: 07-15-2009 @ 10:04 am

 

 

Wed 15 July 2009   GreenfieldI just read a post I wrote in this blog first in May 2008. I updated it early this year, and have just done so again. But it says in there that I had been thrown out of my own world that I’d made with my animals and thrown too much into the human world that I cannot handle. Sixteen months after the sheriff came, it’s still true. I still don’t have an apartment, the animals and the world I made for myself are all gone, and I cannot handle the things I’ve been pushed into. I talk about people crawling around me like so many ants, and that’s still how it feels. I talk about most of the conversation I hear being superficial or outright stupid. It stings, it gives me headaches, it makes me want to run, but there’s no place to run to. My own world is gone.

website

 (tiffany repro at www.gaelsong.com)

Yet Again

by: mishi

Posted on: 06-12-2009 @ 09:56 am

 

 

Fri 12 June 09           Greenfield

I don’t know how many of you have read any of my posts from last year, but this is in case some of you have.
Last year in July a man here in Greenfield started taking me to his apartment and telling me shocking things about my life. I found this man believable, for reasons I’ve described in more than one place in these journals. He told me I was being protected by the FBI from some people who wanted to hurt me, and that my grandfather whom I’d never known had been some kind of organized crime guy. I can’t tell you how shocking all this was, on top of the devastation of losing my home and all my animals. And since this man mentioned “big fish” needing to be caught, I came to see myself as the bait for these big fish. I’m still in no way sure that this wasn’t the case, as Matthew never took any pains to deny it.
But I was living on stingy information and a great deal of tension and anxiety. I was never told how many  people were protecting me, or how many people were around who wanted to hurt me, or how long all this would last, so I had no idea of the scope of the thing. In all the strain I was forced to wonder if every unfamiliar face was on one side or the other.
And then the tests run on me in public places last June. They certainly looked like Aspergers tests to me. When they were over, this same man told me that I had it, and on later occasions he referred to me as autistic.
I still believe the things he told me last year, because no one credible has come forward to say that he just played a hoax on me and is not undercover law enforcement. I believe that for some period of time I was being protected to some degree or other, but the scope of it I still don’t know. It has all been undercover, I haven’t been treated in an above-board manner, and all the questions are still unanswered.
Meanwhile, this man has not yet returned to his real home in the town of Deerfield. He is still here. I spent some time with him yesterday, but he will not give me anymore information.
I believed things that were told to me, and so far I still believe them. But in my anxiety and tension, and left to guessing, I pulled many more people and events into the field of my “protection” than probably belonged there. The strain of all the months was too much pressure for me. I lived in a constant state of wondering and nervousness, and waiting. Waiting for these protectors to locate me somewhere. And this individual Matthew, knew perfectly well I was waiting for this and never deigned to tell me that it was no longer the plan.

Website

 

Lontano Dagli Occhi

by: mishi

Posted on: 06-08-2009 @ 12:24 pm

 

 

It’s been way too long since I’ve written here. I get the feeling that most of you writing on wrongplanet are younger than I am, and perhaps we have nothing but Aspergers in common. But I am struggling, and am very sad, and would appreciate making a connection, at least on the internet, with someone else with Aspergers. I’m 56, and if you can stand that, please email me at annenakis@yahoo.com. thanks.

And returning in August 2010, to say that the response from the particular Asperger’s community on WrongPlanet was always extremely sparse, at best.

 

For Those Who Betray…

… dante’s ninth circle

by: mishi

Posted on: 01-29-2009 @ 01:26 pm

 

 

thurs 29 jan 2009          Northampton

HELL IS OTHER PEOPLE    ~~   (j.p.sartre)

and I could add: especially an egomaniac named matthew.

Update 19 August 2009:  Not much to add here. I was angry, and I think rightly so. I was back in Northampton from 8 Jan to 9 Feb this year, staying at a shelter. But there now comes a long gap in time before I wrote again. From 9 Feb this year to 23 April, I didn’t have access to a computer. And how that all came about was as bizarre and suspicious and immoral and, as far as I know illegal, as many other things that have happened over the last 17 months.

 

Powerlessness

by: mishi

Posted on: 01-17-2009 @ 10:39 am

 

 

Saturday 17 January 2009 Northampton

Chan, Chailin and Ziidjian, three souls I love deeply, would have been 13 today if they had not been taken from me, hidden, euthanized… under the caring, treacherous hand of the Department of Mental Health. 

I’d love for an activist lawyer or journalist to someday come and read how various agencies of various kinds of government have treated me; these things I was looking for way back in the beginning when I started my on-line journals. I still need them.

Update 24 August 2009:   I’m actually not sure to this day if the federal “protection” situation had anything at all to do with my illegal eviction and the disappearance of my animals. Maybe yes, maybe no. But I was still in the fiercest of my anger and the worst of my anxiety when I wrote this post, and now I’ve edited out a lot of that ferocity. After all, in our current societal mood, angry = insane. So many people by the time I wrote this post had told me that the FBI can do anything it wants, without conscience or scruples, that anything that happened to me or didn’t happen could potentially have had them behind it. I still don’t know how much had them behind it, because these are some of the many questions Matthew will not answer.

 

unending unanswered questions

 by: mishiPosted on: 01-13-2009 @ 04:06 pm

 

 

Tuesday 13 Jan 2009….        Northampton

 It all goes on, into a new year. The “protection.” The baithood? Matthew certainly never denied this baithood. The homelessness. The waiting, the things Matthew wouldn’t tell me, and the things he did. The location somewhere, as a “protected” person, that never comes.

Tell me, any readers there might be, a little about love.

Update 26 Aug 2009:   Love. Yes, the man who told me these shocking things about my life supposedly loved me, at least last year. When I wrote this post, I had been going from place to place since the 20th of Aug 08. What kind of protection was that? Why didn’t I get protected in a home, as other people do? Was Matthew lying? I found very believable the things he told me, because very strange, out-of-place things had been going on in my life for a good while before he told me these things. But where was Matthew’s love? I wonder if he ever in all my wandering months tried to prevail upon his superiors to locate me somewhere and show me some IDs.

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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2011 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.

 

 

Still Homeless

by: mishi

Posted on: 11-04-2008 @ 10:33 am  ~~  website

 

 

tuesday 4 nov 2008          Peskeomskut Park, Turners Falls

In 7 days it will be eight months of homelessness (courtesy of the DMH), and of all the cloak-and-dagger stuff that Matthew says has gone along with the homelessness. I haven’t been a human being to anyone for quite a long time now.Update 27 August 2009:  Matthew was the one who first told me about the protection, the federal dimension, and people wanting to kill me. I didn’t myself think the FBI would be involved unless we were dealing with organized crime. Certainly cars came to visit the lunatic criminal who lived in my building that I described as “mafia cars” before I was even evicted or ever knew Matthew. But the number of protectors I had and how it worked and when it would be over were details Matthew never gave me. I was living in a park right in the center of Turners Falls. What kind of protection is that? I was still waiting for these protectors to choose me an address, because that was all I ever knew about federal protection: you couldn’t choose your own place to live. I keep repeating this everywhere, because I keep getting asked the moronic question: why weren’t you looking for your own place. I’ve already given my answer to these fools repeatedly.

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Among the Squirrels

11 October 2008                Sleeping now in the park

I was diagnosed in July.

They tested me this past summer, in public places and without my consent. Who carried out the tests and who paid for them, I don’t know. They tested me with sounds, foods, colors, behaviors, staged situations, bla bla bla. It lasted over a month, all this testing. I’d be in some public place, and all of a sudden somebody’s doing a test, while one or two other people sit at tables and write notes about my response, or type away on a lap-top. And please don’t insult me with talk of delusions or paranoia or stupidity: I’m smart enough and plenty sane enough to know when someone at a table on one side of me is running a psychological test on me, and someone at the table on the other side of me is watching me and taking notes. These are in no way normal experiences for me in public places.

                                                                        

Update 1 Sept 2009:  So I was living among the squirrels and crows and blue jays and sparrows and chicadees when I first wrote this post, in Turners Falls. The testing had taken place in the summer, in Greenfield, and many of the things I recognized as tests as they were happening. Matthew apparently knew all about this, because when I questioned him about the rhyme and reason for one particular test, he said it was a test of my character. When the tests were over, he told me I had Aspergers. Whether or not you believe that depends on who and what you believe Matthew is, and you’ll make your own judgment on that.

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On and On

Page Five

Tuesday 6 May 2008     Greenfield

It’s eight weeks today since the sheriff’s guy evicted us.

I’ve been ripped out of my own world and thrown into the human one in a bigger way than I can stand. I walk streets and hang here and hang there now that my life is gone, and people are crawling around me every minute like so many ants. They sit too close, walk too close, talk about nonsense. Once in a great while there’s an interesting conversation, and I eavesdrop, but mostly it’s boring, superficial, even irrational drivel.

I only fit in my own world, the one I made for myself with my animals, my books and music and art and radio shows and so on. The DMH allowed it all to be taken away, and dropped me into a world I can’t handle.

Do any of the rest of you Aspies have to do this? To create your own world in your own space and stay mostly clear of that other world around us?

                                                                          

(figurine available from www.gaelsong.com)

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Update 2009:  And now it’s February 4th, and it’s 2009, and I’m in Northampton, and in 7 days I will be 11 months homeless. When I wrote this original entry I was already horrified that the Department of Mental Health had allowed my whole life to be taken from me and me to put out of a home in my fifties, and that in eight weeks they had done nothing to correct any of that. Eight weeks without my own life, without my own home, without the ones I love seemed like an eternity to me then, so how do you think it feels that it is now eleven months. But on top of all of this that is already destroying me by inches, I was told last July that — because of a mafia-connected tenant in the building where I last lived, and a dead mafia grandfather of my own — I am being tracked people who want to “kill” me (said Matthew) and am being protected by none other than federal goons (undercover) down from the branch office in Burlington, Vermont. Or so I’ve been told by good old Matthew Lacoy in Greenfield. As if the nightmare I was living because of the DMH wasn’t enough.

here to the Asperger’s page of my website.

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(this post is part of the book Spite and Malice)

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