Gang Stalking – Let the tears come.

Tylenol (Photo credit: raspberries1)

Breakfast (Photo credit: brixton)

cry (Photo credit: the|G|™)

This morning I woke up feeling feverish and chilly, and felt a lot of stomach pain. And totally exhausted.  I did not feel like getting out of bed, but I forced myself to get up and have breakfast.

After breakfast, I took a Tylenol and walked around trying to feel better.  But I didn’t.  I still felt awful, and decided there’s no way I’m going out today.  So I made my way back to bed.  It was really good to be under my cover.  The warmth made me feel a lot better.  I laid my head down, and the tears came.  I didn’t cry, the tears just came down.  And I let  them come.

I thought of my mother and about how much I miss her.  And I thought how many times did she cry silently, and  I wasn’t aware of  it.  I’m sure my mother cried a lot of silent tears, but I never saw them.

I know why the tears came.  I’ve forced myself to keep going no matter what.  To write my blog, and be.  No time for tears.

With all the stress I’ve been experiencing lately, I didn’t  let my guard down.  It’s go, go and do what has to get done.  There are people all over the world who have worse lives than I do.  At least I have a place to sleep, eat, keep warm, so I shouldn’t feel sorry for my self. I should be grateful for what I have.

But the constant harassment never lets up.  It’s electricity hitting me all the time, being followed every minute, cars honking, people constantly laughing at me with their smirky laughs, at night someone unlocking my door, hacking into my computer, my phone, filling my apartment with terrible smells, clothes disappearing from my closet, people aping everything I do, etc.  It gets very tiring.  I never get a minute to just relax and think.

To just sit and think is a luxury for us targets.  It is a luxury we’re not allowed.

Every minute, it’s make them miserable, drive them crazy, make them want to end their lives, do something that will make them commit a crime so they end up in jail, or in some mental hospital.

There is no time for crying, or we won’t survive.

But our bodies know us better than we know ourselves, and they come to our rescue.  They make us cry and let out all the nasty stuff building up inside of us.  If we don’t let out the tears, we would explode.

So I’m grateful for the tears.

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Gang Stalking – PostaDay 2011 – Would you rather laugh with sinners, or cry with saints?

I’ve done enough crying lately. What I need is someone to laugh with. Saints don’t do it for me. Who wants to spend his life crying? Not me. And saints are not always what they seem. Some of the meanest people in my life are people who consider themselves saintly.  Talk about phony! These people are saints in front of people, but as soon as they are  away from them, their meanness shows  up.  A lot of  gang stalkers consider themselves saints, and they’re not people who I would care to be friends with.  There are no such things as saints.

I’ll take the sinners any day. At least with the sinners you know what they are outright, unlike the saints who you find out later are not the saints they profess to be. So I’ll take the sinners. At least I’ll have some laughs before I die.

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