A few more school bullying incidents have come to mind recently that I feel like sharing now in hopes it helps bring awareness to gangstalking. One was at a second grade assembly where the three classes gathered in one room for a joint assembly as we sometimes did. They would move the desks out of the way and the additional students would sit on the floor in rows. I was settled down on one such occasion talking to my friend when someone did the tap on the shoulder, made you look childish game they did. I can picture how I turned to see which one of the kids in the row behind me had done it. Sometimes I could tell, but the more they did it, the harder it was to determine who the culprit was because the instigator would get more and more kids to participate, so that everyone in the row were all smirking or looking at someone else with the Not Me look or saying the clever, “What?”. I would give up after a few times of this, but they’d always start again a few minutes later or halfway through the assembly if they got bored. Of course, if I had just ignored them and never let them get a rise out of me, they would’ve given up, but I didn’t get that as a kid. I didn’t get the mentality of wanting to torment someone like that. I couldn’t fathom that my annoyance delighted them. I just didn’t think that way. I always wanted to affirm, encourage and include others. Of course, the taunting taps on the shoulder were only a momentary trouble, but the thing that hurt was to have a bunch of kids work together against me. It was the exclusion and disregard for me that was hurtful.

Another time, an older kid on the bus while we were waiting at the school for everyone to get there before the bus headed out, was smacking me on the back of the head right at the soft spot at the crown. He wasn’t trying to fool me about who was doing it. He was just openly bullying me. He was really smacking hard too, and I remember how I felt a little dizzy and kind of reeled a bit for a few seconds before I was even able to turn and say something to him. What struck me, besides his hand, (ha! see what I did there?) was that it seemed as though he was aiming for that particular spot on my head knowing it was a sensitive area and would have that effect. I didn’t think of it at the time, but years later, I thought that someone older had to have told him to try it. They taught him to hit that soft spot to get the desired effect.

Fast forward to tenth grade English class and you’ll see another scene of exclusion. This one didn’t involve any physical attacks, but it was also hurtful. The teacher was lazy and well aware that they couldn’t fire her because she was tenured. (Ironically her name was Firing.) She often just treated her class as a study hall because she hadn’t bothered to do a lesson plan. I often went and sat by my best friend on these do nothing days, but this particular day, I was very tired and not feeling very well physically, probably from my undiagnosed Crohn’s disease. I reviewed my notes for another class that I had a test for, but then I just sat for a while thinking about things. I guess that made it look like I didn’t know what to do with myself socially and the teacher and her pet thought that was pretty funny. I didn’t know they were laughing at me until a popular girl who sat by me in history and often copied my notes and I helped her get ready for tests, came over and told me that’s what they were laughing so hard about. They were making fun of me just because I was sitting there minding my own business. Well, you know what? I didn’t let it get to me. I mean sure it was hurtful at first, but I did go sit with my friend on the next impromptu teacher laziness study hall day. And a cheerleader thought I was cool enough to want to tell me what the mockers were up to. I always had popular people who talked to me. I was one of the top students in the class and I had my small circle of friends. Most people were mature enough to respect that.

The sad thing is that while the rest of us matured and grew in abilities and confidence in life, including some of the participants in the pestering kind of bullying, gangstalkers never grew out of their immature bullying. Unfortunately, their cruel games are not harmless. Instead of pretending not to be involved in pestering by tapping my shoulder from behind like the second graders, these loser sociopaths gang up on a person to disguise who’s turning on electrical field generators nearby and the exact source, so you can’t stop it or sue. And it causes cancer. That’s what electronic harassment is all about!

I rely on God to strengthen and protect me from these childish creeps. My motto for the last seven years now has been, I Will Prevail!

I will keep trying to be a positive influence in the world. I thank God for my writing and photography and many creative abilities.

We the good people, must keep fighting the good fight and encourage one another.

God be with you!