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Because of some creepy stuff that showed up on Facebook, I decided to do a FB search of posts related to a specific last name, and found familiar first names who mentioned people I do know of with the last name I searched. I don’t know for sure if they’re the ‘right’ person by first name only, but I don’t know them, so I blocked a few people. Those blocked with that search were NOT associated with the horrible comments for violence. If any of them see stuff here, so be it. It’s viewable to anyone, though with 3 followers in over 5000 views, this is hardly a high profile blog – LOL. And that’s fine. This is my only ‘hotline’ when I’m overwhelmed or upset. It’s one place I can write, and whether anyone else sees it or not is irrelevant. Human beings have repeatedly proven their lack of trustworthiness in varying degrees (that’s in a broad sense, not isolated to one or two people or situations; I have a trauma warehouse in my head). I don’t have family here, and don’t discuss this with the few friends I have, since I’m essentially housebound, and eating disorders/trauma aren’t great conversation topics.
I also deleted some posts I’d done as a result of being so hurt. The info in those posts was true about what I was told (but was what I was told true???), but it also didn’t need to be posted. I crossed a line about someone crossing another line. I’d completely forgotten about the posts and found them when I was looking for an old cover photo, going back through posts and photos. They came across as very vindictive, and that was not the purpose. I have very few places to ‘vent’.
Still not OK.
In the disturbing posts, the poster called for prison time and various ‘ends’ to someone’s life (I immediately reported those to Facebook). While I’m no longer in contact with the person targeted, there is no time or place for such threats. I also don’t think that prison would serve any good purpose. I know about deaths in Portugal from an article and documentary, but don’t know the details, so can’t say what was good/bad/right/wrong. Many other former patients also died or killed themselves, but that was after leaving the clinic. Others relapsed and died years after the clinic closed. The ‘violent’ person had the name of someone that was very similar to another person I’d had brief contact with, and sent a message (same middle name w/added ‘e’, last name off by one letter, first name with the same sound with the first initial, same number of syllables). They said they were getting actual help, and I wished them well, and blocked them because I can’t trust anyone associated with ‘someone’. I’m guessing the interaction was passed on.
There were times when I truly enjoyed talking with someone, and hoped that I’d get through this relapse and find wellness. There were conversational phone calls at times that were quite nice, but I never learned how to get past my ‘head’. There’s a 40+ year history of other patients who have posted on various platforms about their lack of recovery with the same person I’d hoped would help me. Some of these I read about in a book by an investigative journalist on this person that I should have read before looking for them, and others I’ve seen online myself.
Were there helpful things over the years? Yes. There were, especially early on. The first six months were good. Evidently some people do get well if they’re deemed worth the time and can pay for consistent and useful help. That’s just as valid as my nightmare experience, with a fee that was agreed upon mutually prior to starting ‘help’.
I’m disabled and on a fixed income, so funds were/are limited. There is no universal healthcare. Someone knew I was selling my house before accepting me as a patient. In one request for money for a “website” (never happened that I know of in spite of reportedly recording videos all day every day for a year, which also cut down on time to help me from late summer 2023- late 2024), I was told to “sell everything” I could to send her $1000 (I have the screenshot). When I didn’t do that, phone calls slowed to one a month, with no messages being seen for days on end, up to a week, and someone wanted control over food again after more than 2 years of no food input. I’m not sure how it would work not to see messages or call, but control food. Made no sense.
Those who heard of me when I was talked about to others living with her will know that I wasn’t known as a ‘problem’. (Someone asked permission to discuss me with those in the house, which I have since rescinded in an email, so discussing me at all is against my wishes at this point). For anything they hear about me now, I wonder does it add up? Have I been turned into a villain ? I’d expect to be viewed as someone hostile at this point based on how others were talked about to me when they disagreed, asked questions, and/or pointed out problems. It’s another pattern. I don’t have that reputation. I wonder if those living with someone have been asked to keep secrets, too. I finally said that if it couldn’t be posted in Times Square, I didn’t want to know.
I didn’t get well. I felt given up on and disposed of, and intended or not, that was my experience. It would have been so much easier to just hear the truth, that things weren’t as either of us thought they were initially, and the deeper engrained mindset wasn’t going to be undone via WhatsApp ( I never even got a video call, for that important eye contact mentioned in the first Skype audio call when I was too afraid to be seen ). Someone told me I’d needed 24 hour care, but “it was always the money” that kept her from bringing me to her- but that wasn’t said until a few weeks ago, which validated that I wasn’t paying ‘enough’ to truly help. Someone finally said something to that effect in an email months after I’d left. And that’s all I ended up feeling like I was good for. Self-worth eradicated.
I’m losing weight again, so that’s very good. Shrinking seems to be the best way to cope with existing. That’s my therapy outcome. I’m not sure how long my kidneys will work ‘enough’, but none of that means much.
And I will continue to wish ‘someone’ well. THAT is who I AM.
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