In Our Backyard: Sex Trafficking in the Midwest

Isn’t this awful? It sounds worse than gang stalking. Read about “Sex slaves”.

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SIUE Women's Studies Program

Today’s post comes from Criminal Justice professor Erin Heil. She began studying domestic human trafficking in 2008 and has since published numerous articles on the subject, as well as the book, Sex Slaves and Serfs: The Dynamics of Human Trafficking in a Small Florida Town.  She shares this post with us in anticipation of the upcoming panel, “Sex Trafficking and Exploitation,” co-sponsored by the SIUE Women’s Studies and Peace Studies Programs on Oct. 21 at 12:30 in the Morris University Center.  At this event Prof. Heil will be joined by Congressman John Shimkus, FBI Intelligence Analyst Derek Velazco, Rescue and Restore Coordinator Kristen Eng, and Covering House representatives Deidre Lhamon and Lindsay Ellis.  The event is free and open to the community.

“I was taken from my doorstep…I was sold for sex with men in exchange for money and drugs. I was forced to work out of motels, brothels, prostitution houses…

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Gang Stalking – Psycho bitch will get her day in hell!

Continuation of my blog from yesterday.

I remember this woman  inviting me to visit her in Florida for Thanksgiving. I thought it strange, since  I don’t remember her ever inviting me to her home for Thanksgiving any other time. So I thought “what is she up to?” Out of curiosity, I took her up on the offer of spending Thanksgiving with her. The year was 2008.

In the year 2008, strange things began to happen to me, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I basically led a normal life.

When I visited this woman in Florida in 2008, she took a lot of pictures of me. I thought it weird for her to take so many pictures. Why? Now, I know why. It was a way to identify me to the perps who would haunt me for the rest of my life.

While visiting her, I noticed a birthday card on the couch. It was a birthday card from her  15-year-old daughter to one of her friends. I read the card. It said: Happy birthday__________. And we can have some fun stalking some people on your birthday. LOL.

Stalking people? I didn’t think it was funny. I’d read stories about men and women experiencing stalking and it sounded awful! What a strange thing to want to do for fun!

But, again, I put it out of my mind.

Now, I know why the daughter found stalking funny. She and her mother were probably involved in stalking people.

I didn’t know then I would become a victim.

I also remember this woman telling me that I should see a psychiatrist. I’d complain to her about the strange things happening to me.

I remember the look in her eyes when she told me I should see a psychiatrist. She looked at me in a very cold, unfeeling way. I stared back at her wondering if this woman wasn’t a little crazy. I responded that I did not need a psychiatrist and I was very sane.

I left for Las Vegas soon after the remark she made to me about the psychiatrist.

Now that I know she has a vendetta against me, what can I do? No one will believe she’s the cause of my gang stalking.

I don’t feel any better knowing who’s behind my gang stalking.

All I can think is: What an evil bitch! She’ll get her day in hell! Maybe she already is!!!

And by  the way, all the perps have the same psycho look in their eyes and  are very cold and uncaring.

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Gang Stalking – Enemy of the State.

It’s a dark, cold rainy day in Las Vegas.  We don’t have too many rainy days in Las Vegas. I’ve been in Las Vegas for a few years now, and I think it’s rained less than 25 times.  That’s one of the advantages of living in Las Vegas. I used to live in Florida, and we had so much rain, it didn’t feel like the Sunshine state. Florida should be called the “Rain State,” because that’s what it is.

Well, enough about the rain.

Everybody in the Senate is complaining about Obama sending drones after innocent citizens, then why is it that no one ever mentions people who don’t have drones aimed at them, but are constantly tortured by goons sent after us under the Patriot Act?

I can’t prove this, but the  senators  all know what’s going on with harassment of American citizens.

For one thing, the Senate has to pass bills that approve the harassment.  The government can’t do to us what it’s doing without approval of the Senate, or the President.

President Obama is definitely a disappointment.  You would think a man who believes in the right of everyone to do what he/she wants to do, would not agree to such an Act.

I was listening to the radio (second time some bastard deleted what I wrote) and a man who wrote a book on J. Edgar Hoover and the FBI, said that,  at one time, Hoover  had over 20,000 people on his hit list.  And the writer of the book discussed what Hoover did to the people on the list.  And it sounded exactly like what’s being done to us every day.

The people were under 24-hour surveillance, cameras were put in their homes, telephones tapped, broke into their homes, got neighbors to watch everything the people did,  encouraged people to report anything that the people under surveillance  did, etc.

Of course, then, those people were luckier.  They didn’t have everyone carrying a cell phone. Information  took a lot longer to get to where it was going.  Today, it’s instantaneous.  We can’t get away from the bastards. They know where we are every minute.

The  book just came out in paperback.  It’s written by Tim Weiner and the title is: Enemies: A History of The FBI.

The book begins this way: [ From FBI:

The war against spies and saboteurs demands the aid of every American.

When you suspect the presence of enemy agents, tell it to the FBI at once.

Beware of those who spread enemy propaganda!  Don’t repeat vicious rumors or vicious whispers.

Tell it to the FBI! ]

I guess I would be considered a saboteur or spy, since I supposedly spread propaganda about what the government does to us.  And when I walk around, people are in the presence of an enemy.

I consider it a compliment to be an enemy of the state.  And I don’t fear any of them!  They can all go and f–k themselves.

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Gang Stalking – Too bad I couldn’t see into the future.

Fort Lauderdale Beach (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: , 241 South Fort Lauderdale Beach Boulevard (), Fort Lauderdale, . (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: Fort Lauderdale, FL, September 02, 2004 — It’s a beautiful morning at Fort Lauderdale beach but this evacuation sign is a reminder that Hurricane Frances is only 400 miles away. FEMA Photo/Mark Wolfe (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Stranahan House, Ft. Lauderdale, Florida (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: Panorama of the New River and the Fort Lauderdale skyline, Florida. Français : Vue panoramique du New River et la ligne des toits de Fort Lauderdale, en Floride. {| cellspacing=”0″ style=”min-width:40em; color:#000; background:#ddd; border:1px solid #bbb; margin:.1em;” class=”layouttemplate” | style=”width:1.2em;height:1.2em;padding:.2em” | 20px |link=|center | style=”font-size:.85em; padding:.2em; vertical-align:middle” |This image was created with hugin. |} New River Ft Lauderdale.jpg (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The days quickly slip away.   It’s already June 23.  Where has June gone?  What have I accomplished in my life?  Not much.  I can say, though, that I’ve accomplished something,  just staying sane is an accomplishment.  No matter what the gang stalkers did to me, I survived almost another month.  And believe me, that’s an accomplishment.

I remember the days when I was free. I never stayed home.  I was always running around doing something.  I was at the movies, Ft. Lauderdale beach, going out with family, friends, boyfriend, traveling.  Oh, I think back to those days and wish for them back. I didn’t realize how free I was.  Or I thought I was.  But I realize I wasn’t.  No one is really ever free.  There’s always the government to deal with.  They make all the rules and we  follow them like idiots.  We never question anything.  I must admit I was an idiot.  And I must tell you, I’m more aware than most people.  I spent a lot of  time getting petitions signed for causes I believed in.  And now I think, what was it all for?

Before my gang stalking began, I lived in Florida (I never should’ve left, maybe what’s happening to me wouldn’t be happening). I remember while living in Florida, I used to see a lot of cars with their lights on.  I used to wonder “why are their lights on?”  It was always a puzzle to me.  Why? A lot of Canadians spend the winter in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida,  and I used to see a lot of Canadians with their lights on.  So I didn’t get beyond” asking “why?”  I assumed the lights were just what Canadians did when they drove. But still, there was  something about the lights that bothered me. It was very strange to me.

So years pass, and one day I notice that  the lights are everywhere I go.  Everywhere I go people  are following me with their lights on. I wasn’t in Florida anymore and the lights went on during the sunniest of day.   I soon found out what the lights were about.  The lights became part of my gang stalking.  The lights are put on to let know other gang stalkers  know that they’re part of the group, and to let targets know that the gang stalkers know who we are.

I wish I could have seen into the future.  I never would have left Florida.  I’d gotten married to the man who proposed to me.  I guess I took the road less traveled.  The road which lead me to what I’m now experiencing.  It lead me to a hell hole of a life.

I want the world to know about gang stalking.  What it does to someone’s life.  How it separates families, lovers, husbands,  children, friends.

When I used to see the cars in Florida with their lights on, I didn’t know anything about gang stalking.  I never heard anyone mention it. There were a lot of people who were going through torture and I had no idea they were.  Only the lights gave me a hint of something going on.  It makes me wonder, if someone mentioned gang stalking, would I have believed them?  I think I would’ve.  People don’t make up stories like this.  And I would have given them the benefit of the doubt.

What troubles me about what’s happening to me, is  that for the rest of my life, and even after I die, I’ll be considered a crazy person.  I can see the future and can hear my family saying things like:  well, you know, insanity runs in our family.  Remember aunt Gladys, she was crazy.  I feel sorry for generations that follow me, when something like this happens to one of them, the family will think it’s just part of the family history.  I wonder how many people were called crazy and had nothing wrong with them?

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Gang Stalking – Surrounded by clowns.

Image via Wikipedia

It seems there are more gang stalkers after me now than ever before.  A  lot of  new people moved into my complex.   About three or four of them are not the typical gang stalking types.  They seem educated, have better cars, and come from out-of-town.  One woman comes from Florida.  The rest, I don’t know. I don’t what kind of car they own.  But my gang stalking is getting progressively worse.  I’ve heard that as time goes by, gang stalking lessens. It might be true for other targets, but that’s not been my experience. I have more gang stalkers surrounding me now than before.

There’s the clown next door.  He came wearing a leather jacket and clean-looking, now he looks like a perp.  His appearance has changed.  Then there’s the clown upstairs.  He’s been here since December, or November.  He’s the one who used to live with the floozy.  Now she’s gone and he’s taken over her place. There’s another clown behind me.  I hear him, and I’ve seen him a few times, but he very seldom shows himself.  He likes to slam the door a lot, but I’ve learned to ignore the door slamming.  Then there’s another clown diagonally above me, next to the clown above.  I rarely see him, but he’s a black man.  He’s a little strange.  Then diagonally on the first floor, there’s another clown.   I rarely see him .I’ve seen him a few times, but I can’t really describe him.  He has one of those ordinary man looks, hard to describe.  Then diagonally above me is another clown.  I’ve never seen him, but I know he exists from the noise I hear. There’s another clown who lives in apartment 111, who has total control of my computer.  On top of all the bozos, there are people parked in the parking lot who often target me.  I can hear them trying to hit me.  There are ” bings” bouncing off the window all day.  I’ve learned to protect myself, so they don’t really do any damage to me.   And I would say that 95% of the tenants harass me. So they’re bringing in people who they think will do a job on me, and finally succeed in getting me to “lose it.”  I’m surrounded by clowns.

Well, I have this to say to them:  You’re not going to succeed.  I will outlast every one of the criminals you send my way. I’ve lasted almost 4 years and you have not succeeded in taking me down.  And you will not succeed no matter who you send after me.  I will, will outlast anyone who you send to make my life a living hell. I have to believe that eventually this ordeal I’m going through will end.  I have to believe that there must be some good people out there, and that  they will do something to help all the targets.  I must have hope.  Without hope, what is there?

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Gang Stalking – PostaDay 2011 – Have you ever protested for anything?

What was the cause? If you haven’t,  what would it take for you to go stand up and protest for (or against) something?

Boy, have I ever? All my life if I didn’t like something I spoke up. I never kept quiet. A lot of times I got into trouble for not keeping my mouth shut. I stood on street corners getting signature to save the Everglades in Florida (which passed) and saved the Everglades. I marched in protest for many things, things I cannot no longer remember. And recently I protested in Occupy Las Vegas. I didn’t last too long in this group. A lot of the protesters were not protesters, but were there to harass me. They were perps.

Last year, September 2010, I made a sign protesting gang stalking. I walked back and back with my sign letting people know what was happening to me. I wrote that the government was harassing me and had hired gang stalkers to torment me. I did it for two weeks. Some people gave me a thumbs up, others were very rude. One man told me if I didn’t like living in the United States, I should leave. One man called me a bitch. Some gave me “the finger.” But none of them stopped me from doing what I had to do. In their own way, they did more to encourage me with their remarks than if they had said or done nothing.

Standing up for something I believe in is not an easy thing. There will be people who won’t like what I’m saying or doing and get very nasty. But if we believe in something, we should have the courage to fight for whatever it is we believe in. That’s how changes come about. If we keep quiet thinking someone else will take care of it, we all lose.

And,  I’m sure, I will march again protesting something I don’t like.

Countdown: 94 blogs to write.

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Gang Stalking – PostaDay 2011 – What would it take to get you to move?

English: Busy afternoon on the beach At the height of the summer season, there is little spare room on the Cobb beach. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Rain, Rainy weather (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If someone you trusted offered you $1,000 to move to a different city, would that be enough?  More?  Or would you need other things (the promise of friends  or better weather?)  What would they need to offer you before you’d instantly say yes?  Or if you already want to move, what would it take to get you to stay?

$1,000 to move.  Ha, ha, ha.  That $1,000 wouldn’t  even move me across the street.  No insult to this topic, but it’d take a lot more to move.   Today someone  needs between $3,000 –  5,000 to move.  If you’re doing your own moving, it will still cost you a lot of money.  With gas, putting a deposit on a new place, rental of truck, etc., it adds up.

As to moving  for the promise of friends or better weather, things like this never hold up.  People are the same wherever you go, so if you’re moving for friendship purposes, you might be disappointed.  Maybe they’ve changed, or maybe you’ve changed.  Time has changed the way the  people you knew used to be.

As to better weather, I moved to Florida because friends promised me better weather and a lot of sunshine.  There was a lot of sunshine, but there was also tons of  rain.  The summer season brought with it  non-stop  rain, sheets of rain.  There were days I got caught in the  rain storms and ran home soaking wet.  And there are  a lot of lightning storms.  Scary lightning storms, which cause electricity to  go out during the summer.  We went without  air conditioning and had to put up  with  humid, humid weather.  Oh, how can I possibly forget about the hurricane season, with even more rain and winds strong enough to blow a house apart.  And I always felt wet.  So moving somewhere for weather, no time soon.

I would like to move, but my situation with gang stalking will remain the same wherever I go.  So moving would be a waste of what little money I have left.  I would move, though, if someone I knew could promise me an apartment/house  that is safe.  Safe in every way.  It would be a one level house, or apartment;  windows that had  safety glass;  no neighbors nearby;  away from a parking lot, street; sensors all along the house, letting me know when someone was in the vicinity;  a security system that would allow me to see the area surrounding the house.  Then I’d definitely move.  Of course, there’s no such thing as anything being 100% safe, but at least I’d have a running chance.

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Gang Stalking – PostaDay 2011 – Do you take the red pill, or the blue pill?

If given the choice, are you the kind of person who takes the red pill or the blue pill?  When do you do the opposite?  “You take the blue pill = the day ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe.  You take the red pill = you stay in  Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.” – Morpheus (from Matrix)

I’ve answered this question before.  The last time I answered red pill.  But since that time, my life has drastically changed.  I really don’t know how I’ll answer this until  the end of the blog.

I was living in Florida in 2004.  At that time I was blissfully ignorant of what was to happen to me.  I was like the people with the blue pill. But I did notice certain things in Florida that were going on, so I can’t  really saying I was blissfully ignorant.  I did notice that a lot of cars in Florida had their headlights on, even on really sunny days.  It used to puzzle me  why so many cars had their lights on.  If I had only known what was to come into my life.

I left Florida in 2004 and moved to Las Vegas, Nevada (bad, bad move).  Two years into my move, I noticed that everywhere I went I was treated rudely and did not know why.  This was the beginning of my gang stalking life.  I felt like Neo.  There was something that just wasn’t adding up.  I searched for answers everywhere, but could not figure out what was up.  So in August of 2009, I went looking for answers.  The answers came to me after moving about eight times in less than 10 months.  Discovered family was aware of why I was being hounded, but they denied knowing anything.

I returned to Vegas in June, 2010 with lots of answers.  I was no longer the innocent looking for answers.  My life had become a living hell.  I was no longer someone who lived in the blue pill land. I knew exactly what was going on.  I was being harassed by the government and its snitches.  I was  awaken to what the U.S. government was doing to its citizens.  Some who have been victims for 15 years or more.

I tried to tell people  what was happening to me, but no one would listen (and still don’t).  They don’t want to hear about what the government is doing to its citizens.  They rather live blissfully unaware of what is going on around them (just like in the Matrix).  But I have no choice in the matter.  I have been chosen to be one of the victims. I want to deny that things aren’t as they seem, but my gut tells me otherwise.

So for almost three years, I’ve been living in red pill land.  I daily face the truth of what is happening to me and half million Americans.  We are living in red pill land while the rest are living in blue pill land.  They go about their business and are unaware of what is going on around them.  I sometimes feel I am living the Matrix.

Sometimes I wish I was living in blue pill land, the day ends and I wake up in my bed and believe what I want to believe.  But the reality is, I’m living in Wonderland and I know how deep the rabbit-hole is.

I have no choice but to take the red pill.

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Gang Stalking – Off Topic – PostaDay 2011 – Write about a mistake you can learn from.

On this day in 1863, General Stonewall Jackson died after having been shot by his own troops seven days earlier.

I doubt if  you made a mistake that killed anyone, but whether you have or not, in honor of good old Jackson, write a short post about a mistake you made, or have read about and lesson you learned from it. ( I’m from the North, I don’t know if I should be honoring a confederate general.  Naw, only kidding.)

Well, in  honor of Stonewall Jackson, I’ll write this blog.

I think the biggest mistake I ever made was moving to Las Vegas.  If I hadn’t moved to Las Vegas, I’d be happily ensconced in South Florida not dealing with the gang stalking that I’m dealing with.  Not only that, but I would still be in contact with my family enjoying family time.

I had read in newspaper articles about how great the economy was in Las Vegas.  I picked myself up, leaving family behind, and moved to Las Vegas.   At the beginning, I earned a good paycheck.  That lasted about two and a half years.  In the third year of my arrival, things in Las Vegas began to go downhill.  The economy was tanking.   Also, at the same time, I was being harassed by my two neighbors, which would eventually lead to all my gang stalking problems.

I made the move to Las Vegas based only on the basis of how much money I would earn.  If I had considered other things, like family, atmosphere, etc., I probably would not have moved to Las Vegas.  Not only did the economy tank, but Las Vegas disappointed me in every way.  I made a second mistake by not moving back to Florida when I realized  Las Vegas did not fit the image I had of it!

So if I ever move somewhere else, it will not be only about how much money I can make, but things such as family, friends, atmosphere, etc.

Mistake made, lesson learned!

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