The Usual Routines

The form my harassment takes has evolved as the perpetrators work incessantly to find the techniques that are most effective at pushing my buttons. The good news is, I have evolved as well, spiritually, so my ability to match their latest demonstration of "shock and awe" is more finely tuned.

It's quite the head fuck to be aware that a group of individuals you do not know, but realize have to be living almost under your nose, are working quite literally 24/7 to break you down. I cannot imagine the death toll from adult bullies worldwide; it would not surprise me if thousands of people have committed suicide because they could not deal with the cruel anonymous handiwork of perpetrators who never will be known or face justice.

For years, the harassment was mild -- nothing more than anonymous calling out of my name in public places. I lived in Washington, D.C., at that time, and usually would hear my name called out several times, by different sounding voices, while walking to and from the subway stations.

As is often the case with anonymous harassment, the victim thinks he or she is delusional. And I did think that for quite a while. But the fact that the name that was being called out was my "childhood" name, a name I had not used since adulthood back in my home town, told me something very real was afoot. My delusions wouldn't be THAT creative.

And on it progressed. There was a period where certain types of men I had fantasized about aloud while having sex with my partner would magically appear in my path almost every time I left my apartment building. It's a bizarre experience, because you immediately realize something is unusual. I will not go into details, but my sexual preferences were very specific about types of men I was into.

And for several months, they would be littering my path to the grocery store, leering at me and grabbing their crotches. My partner noticed right off the bat, but did not at the time believe it possible this was a set up.

For quite some time now, the harassment regimen has been "set." The strategy: ruin my sleep. The tactic: A sharp cracking noise wakes me up from a dead sleep many nights, usually at 3 am on the dot. My partner often will wake up with me as well.

If he gets up to take a piss, nothing more will happen and usually I will sleep through the night. However, should he quickly fall asleep, and I get up to piss, I can almost be assured what will transpire next.

Between two and five minutes after I come back to bed, I feel as if I'd downed an espresso. My heart begins to pound in my chest, and I can actually hear my heart beat inside my eardrums. The "neighbors" clearly have switched on some type of electromagnetic wave generator that causes this phenomenon, which my partner also has experienced several times.

(Some believe the perpetrators use the Lida Machine to create this effect on people. Who knows? All I know is, it is real. I meditate every day and am quite aware of my resting heart rate. It isn't even a question whether some piece of technology is causing this immediate heart rush in me...)

Often the palpitations coincide with slight tingly, itchy sensations at random spots on the body, something my partner also has experienced. But the perpetrators are very careful to flip the machines off when he is awake; apparently they somehow do not believe he really knows this is real.

The good news: most nights I can fall back asleep even with the heartbeat machine operating. The sleep may be light, and I usually can tell the next day that I did not sleep adequately, but at least they do not keep me up all night any longer.

Once again, the bottom line is the desire to fuck with my head. The first few times this happened, I was borderline suicidal. Nowadays, my spiritual walk has equipped me to remain alert, aware, in the moment, but not panicked or even angry. I work through the situation by repeating mantralike one or more sentences such as: "I am sustained by the love of God," or "God is here with me in this very room. He is holding my hand and no harm can come to me."

And lately, I have worked like a fiend to inculcate the notion that, despite their reprehensible behavior, the perpetrators nonetheless are holy, precious Children of God, as are we all. I MUST accept this as true, in fact. It is the cornerstone of the path I feel God is taking me down.

But I hope you can pardon me for having a hard time forgiving this kind of crap. It is a mighty struggle to not lapse into hatred.