OMG, Lisa’s gone mad! Just totally insane! Either that or she wrote these incredibly manic, paranoid and untrue words while flying on drugs. Whatever the case, I’m not the least bit surprised and now I’m beyond even feeling sorry for the girl like I used to. She’s left me totally numb. Well, then again, maybe I am just a touch embarrassed for her and ashamed of her. She’s really making a fool of herself. Just when I thought I wasn’t going to be bothered by anyone anymore, I receive this beautiful message:

"Well I have to say that I am shocked that you would lie about me! I have all the dates and the first time we talked was august 10th not April like you said in your letter to my grandfather! Dont even lie! I cant believe you! I was the only one in this family that wanted to remain civil and not be judgmental about you and this is how you pay be back! Leave me alone dont ever contact me again! I never said anything bad about my mother either,whatever relationship I have with her is between me and her..not you. You are causing me stress and I dont need and fucking drama or immature liars in my life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! leave me alone! I cant believe you did this to me! the onloy one that was trying to be there for you! no hard feelings cause I dont hold grudges and I try to live a good postive life so goodbye!"

I went and checked my last letter to my folks and the word “April” isn’t even mentioned at all. Not even “August.” I didn’t give any timeframe at all. Had she sent me a civilized message asking about the dates, I’d have gladly cleared this up for her and let her know that if anyone told her April, then it was done in error if it wasn’t a misunderstanding on the drama queen’s part. So I don’t understand how I’m “causing her stress.” She is correct, though, in saying that August 10th was the first time she contacted me. She also contacted me on August 12th and 13th, and in this next message sent to me on the 13th, you can see she’s rather contradicting as far as not saying anything bad about her mother.

"Hey just got your message and thank you very much. The only isssue I has was with you and Sarah. I love my sisters very much they are pretty much the only family that I do talk to. I have decided it would be best that I dont talk to my mom because we do not see eye to eye on anything. Not saying anything bad cause I know how she will react if a, she finds out im talking to you and b, if she hears im talking shit on her and I will not give her the satisfaction and act immature and say bad things about her even though she is a very negative mean person, who I want nothing to do with. I am the type of person who gives everyone a chance and tries to help people even though my childhood and young adult life have been nothing but hell! I have dealt with severe depression, eating disorders, drug and alchol issues and many others. (cant spell today lol). I am trying to get my life back in order. Getting rid of all the horrible memories of my past that I have hidden with drugs and alchol. Im also trying to get rid of any type of drama or negativity as well. I live on my own and I can talk to any one I want. But family is family so from time to time please check in with me, between us so that I know you are ok. Mom has no influence on me and never will be be able to control me again. As long as you dont contact them I give you my word I am ok. But also on that note I would hope nothing bad will be done or said to my sisters cause I love them dearly. I have spent years trying to locate you, and regardless on what you have done in your past I would never judge cuz I know what its like to be judged and put down by your own family. Hope to hear from you soon in response to this letter thanks hun! Lisa"

Now that there’s no need to “protect” Lisa and keep anything she sends me a secret, I can speak freely now. What’s next? A nastyogram from Becky? She’s the only one in the drama queen’s family I have yet to be harassed by.

I not only sent my folks copies of Lisa’s last two messages, but I also offered my passwords to my diary, MS and FB accounts if they’d like to see just who’s really being victimized here. If they can use someone else’s PC that they trust that has internet access, they’re welcome to see the dozens of goodies sitting in my inboxes. I warned them, though, that the messages are really sick! Just disgusting and downright cold. If it wasn’t for my general lack of trust in law enforcement maybe I’d have already done something about them, though they are still nothing but a bunch of words and not actions. A bunch of sick and nasty words, but words nonetheless.

Poverty is a rough life that really sucks the life out of you. Not that I want to kill myself or anything, but the point is that I have enough crap to deal with and so I’m hoping I won’t be forced to take legal action against any of them as I continue to save up the nasty messages, in which even my husband has been attacked in. I don’t want to get them in trouble; I just want them out of my life! And for people who love to tell me I’m crazy, should’ve jumped from a higher window, should be killed, I ought to get hit by a bus, etc., you would think that they too, wouldn’t want anything to do with me, yet it’s like I’ve become a twisted obsession of theirs. I racked my brain trying to figure out what could be motivating them to attack me like this, and unless it’s drugs, alcohol or just plain craziness, I’m clueless. To drive a wedge between my folks so they boot me from inheriting anything? Well, like I said before, we’d never see anything they left to them or Larry to give to us, and I told them so.

I never wanted contact with these sick assholes in the first place. THEY came to ME. I keep dumping them, they keep coming to me. All I ever did was reply to the first few messages from Lisa and I am sorry I did so, and I’m sorry I bothered with Sarah. Larry’s the only one leaving me alone that I don’t want contact with. I have gone and utilized the “block user” function on both MySpace and Facebook so that none of them can contact me at least through there. I can’t close every possible port out there, but I can close some. I have absolutely no problem with never again having anything to do with Tammy or her kids, and again, I’m sorry my folks can’t check out this horribly threatening and scandalous journal I’m supposed to have that goes magically undetected and is allowed to remain online.

Anyway, the thought of possibly having to live another 30-40 years scraping pennies to the tune of barking dogs since most people out here don’t believe dogs belong indoors, is rather depressing, especially if Tom’s wrong about our future. Tammy might be right when she said I’ll always be poor trailer trash, and so this is why we don’t need any more trouble in our lives. We have to stress enough just at being poor and now that the weather’s cooling down again the dogs will probably put additional stress on me. I’m still pretty sure it’s a weather thing for them and that the cooler weather will stir them up when Jesse’s not around to keep them in line. And who knows how much longer the job market will be so bad?

I just want to forget about these sick fucks who I wish would drop dead until the next time they feel the need to remind me of their sorry existence through yet even more unwanted contact. Even if they were to apologize like crazy and offer money to try to make up for the things they’ve said and done – I don’t want it. I just want to not have to know they exist other than as a bad memory!

Just Tammy’s admitting that her goal was indeed to get me in jail for letting her “abusive” ex have it is totally unforgivable. She may not have known our address, knowing that the cops could find us themselves, but what else could “I did it once I will do it again” possibly mean?

The drama queen isn’t behind the mysterious FB buddies, though. I ran the emails, so unless she’s here in Sunnyvale, she’s not connected to that much. Or the person asking me about all the drugs they doped me up with when they made a walking pharmacy out of me as a kid. That person is up in Washington.

Jesse’s been home and the weather hot, so no shit from the dogs other than the one cool day we’ve had so far where he at least seemed to be out during the morning. Just a single bark at 4:15 this morning and a few at 4:30 yesterday morning. Next week will be the real test. The temp’s gonna drop like a mother-fucker over the weekend, and even if Jesse doesn’t work, he still goes out every day if only for a few minutes.

The only other thing I’ve heard is that mysterious hammering and saw from up at the summit. Someone’s obviously got a huge project going on up there.

I have quite an update about a certain person from 1974, but after Lisa’s shit, I’m not in the mood for any more writing right now. I have other things I have to tend to.

Later…

Who the hell were you? I asked myself this several times on and off since an angel gave me my very first taste of love, respect, acceptance and kindness back in 1974 at Camp Naomi in Raymond, Maine. I don’t think I lasted much more than a week there being the little terrorist that I was who rebelled against the camp’s strictly structured routine. The freedom freak in me longed to be set free and I missed having any kind of space and privacy, something you definitely can’t get in a bunk filled with about 20 other campers. As was the case with Brattleboro, Valleyhead and jail, if you didn’t want to do what they wanted you to do, when they wanted you to do it, you had it rough. I remember feeling totally lost, like a puppet on a string who could never be her own puppeteer. I also felt smothered by all the constant people and activity, and so as much as I didn’t get along with my family, I missed my home, my own room, and my own things. I wanted to hang out in the woods in our backyard by myself or listen to my music in my room. I did not want to swim in a scummy lake with a bunch of strangers, nor did I wish to paint cows and chickens with them on some imaginary farmland. Yet we did everything together as one giant body. We swam together, we ate together, we painted together, we showered together, we played ball together, we slept together, we SHIT together!

My memories of “the angel,” whoever she was, are few and quick. On my last night there, they had trouble getting us kids to sleep. I don’t remember if we were just on a sugar high from all the junk food we were pigging out on or if something else was going on. This woman was in the bunk that night, playfully threatening to tickle me to death if I didn’t go to sleep. Then at one point, I ended up with her in a tiny cabin that had only two beds in it, a little kitchenette in front, plus a bathroom. She had a small dog that might’ve been a terrier. She gave me a Polaroid of the dog that I wish to hell I still had, not that I expect it would yield many clues as to her identity. She fell asleep to me trying to “read her mind.” You know, trying to guess what color she was thinking of and silly stuff like that that kids do.

The next morning she made us breakfast. Afterward, we were outside and I remember asking what I was going to do until my dad picked me up. She playfully swung me, a rather undersized 9-year-old, up in the air and said I was going to hang out with her. And so off we went to play in the woods with her dog. She showed me how it would find her when she’d go and hide behind a tree and stuff like that.

Then Dad arrived, who she said was very handsome. Then, as we were pulling away, she was actually in tears! I didn’t think much of it as a 9-year-old, but later I found it quite touching that she could come to care about me so fast as to be in tears upon my leaving. She was just so kind to me and I would love to try to find this woman and thank her for caring about me!

My mental image of her is quite blurry. Remember, this was not only 35 years ago, but we see adults differently as kids. I think she had dark hair that wasn’t short or overly long. Couldn’t begin to say what eye color she had. Maybe dark?

As I documented in 1995, I tried to find this woman to no avail. I simply learned a few things about the camp itself, that it became co-ed, was renamed Camp Nashoba North, etc. Then the other night she just popped into my head again and I wondered the same damn thing I’ve been wondering forever now – who in the world was she? How can I find her?

Realizing that the internet now had a hell of a lot more than it had 14 years ago, I searched the camp and found a reunion site both on and off Facebook. For some reason, the name Robin stood out in my mind, so I searched the pictures for a Robin and there were a few, one seeming like a possibility. But when I contacted this guy on FB that possibility got shot down when he informed me that we’re the same age.

He said it might’ve been Barbara, the assistant director’s wife, and that the dog, which could’ve only belonged to so many people, might’ve belonged to a caretaker named Gene. I searched for the name he gave me in the state of Maine. Ironically enough, though, I got a hit in my hometown of all places on a woman who is now 67. I got the impression the woman was single and in her late teens/early 20s, but what would I have known at 9 years old? All I can do is hope to identify and locate her so I can finally deliver that well-deserved “thank you” to her. I don’t know why she became so attached to me. Maybe I was the little girl she thought she could never have. Maybe I reminded her of someone else. All I know is that she showed me something I never got from my own family, and I never forgot it.

Hey, cool! I just got another email from Gregg, the guy helping me hunt down this woman. He agrees Barbara is probably too old and says it was either a unit head or a nurse. They lived in those small 2-bed cabins. He also says he’ll ask who the unit heads and nurses were in 1974 which would narrow it down to 4 women and this shouldn’t be hard to find out.

I’m so excited at the possibility of being closer than ever to finding out who she is! I’d go with a unit head as my guess.

Why couldn’t the drama queen have been born infertile?! She not only never could handle kids worth a damn, but now I have to deal with not only her shit but her kid’s shit, too.

Here’s the latest message from my newest cyberstalker, Lisa. At first I was like, how the hell did this get through to me (on MySpace) after I blocked her? I guess I didn’t do it right, so hopefully I got it right this time around. If not, I’ll report her. These people obviously still don’t get that I DON’T WANT ANY FUCKING CONTACT FROM THEM! Jesus, what do they not get about those words?! Anyway, here’s what she said:

"I just wanted to thank you for writing about me in your journal about how im insane and a drug addict! Its really sad that you have to make me look bad and talk shit about me. I have a great job that I have been employed at for more than 8 years making a lot of money. I have a wonderful man who I have been withfor 8 years as well and I live in a great condo, so life for me is well. And even in my past I have learned to forgive people and be a nice positive women. So you can think all you want and say all you want but I have a great life without drugs and drama and my sisters and mom have a great relationship, we may not always see eye to eye but I have firgiven them and move on. So go ahead say what you want about me, I willo pray for you and I hope your life can change around and you can change and become a better person and not put other people down or talk about them,its not good karma. Well take care I wont hold any grudges not the type of person I am. I hope you get better and if you decide to apoligize for what you said about me and the lies that you told I am willing to move on! take care"

OMG. Just wow.

“I just wanted to thank you for writing about me in your journal about how im insane and a drug addict!”

You’re welcome.

“Its really sad that you have to make me look bad and talk shit about me.”

The only one making you look bad is YOU. If you don’t want people writing or saying things about you that you don’t like, then quit contacting people who don’t want to be contacted by you and who you yourself told to “leave you alone.” At least give them the blessing of being able to honor that request and quit reading journals that obviously upset you and that you cannot handle.

“I have a great job that I have been employed at for more than 8 years making a lot of money. I have a wonderful man who I have been withfor 8 years as well and I live in a great condo, so life for me is well”

Then why are you so miserable that you turned to drugs and alcohol? See, she keeps contradicting herself. She has nothing to do with her mother, but now she does. Her life was hell, but now it’s great.

“And even in my past I have learned to forgive people and be a nice positive women”

That’s how you get fucked over by the same people over and over again; by being too nice and too forgiving, and that’s why I’m the least forgiving person on earth. Bad karma or not, I will never forgive or forget what she or her mother has done to me. It’s simply too late. Why they keep trying to win me over and get me back into their lives is beyond me. Why do some people want to bother with those who don’t want to bother with them??? These people mean nothing to me, and once again, funny how it’s only THEM doing the contacting, isn’t it? I don’t care if they’re rich, poor, happy or miserable, but only that they STAY THE FUCK OUTA MY LIFE! I don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to be enemies, I just want to be absolutely nothing to each other. I want someone to be able to bring me up and for them to be like, Jodi? Jodi who? I want to be a stranger to them. A distant memory that’s long since faded into nothing.

“I willo pray for you”

Me too. That you disappear and leave me alone.

“if you decide to apoligize for what you said about me and the lies that you told I am willing to move on”

laughs I’m not in the habit of apologizing for lies I didn’t tell, and what I said about you was what you yourself told me.

Finally got my period so that’ll help get some of this water off.

Decided to hold off on ordering any incense for now. Yeah, we could spare $30 - $40 or so right now, but I’d rather not. Besides, I’ve still got some left from the last order. Ah, Loganberry is beautiful!

Meanwhile, I found an interesting link about Valleyhead and some of its other victims/survivors. I posted my own two cents in their forum which is basically just what the rest of this entry says.

I can’t believe it took 40 years for the FBI and DYS to finally shut these sickos down! I personally never saw any sexual abuse, but I don’t doubt it existed at all. T from NH couldn’t have said it any better as to a lot of the shit that went on there. It was the worst experience of my childhood and who knows how much different I might’ve been for the better had I not been there the two years I was there? The suicide obviously occurred after I was there. The few good staff that were there were totally overridden and overpowered by the dozens of bad ones that made the kids feel like murderers and prisoners instead of victims of abuse in a place that was supposed to be a school filled with an extra dose of caring.

Just like T got punished for loaning her dryer to the girl who hung herself with it, I was punished for trying to kill myself by jumping out a second-story window to escape the verbal and emotional abuse I was getting there, as well as some physical threats. After I jumped, instead of being offered the support I needed, I was only made to feel sorry I didn’t succeed in killing myself, although I did not jump with any set goal intended. I simply panicked, I wanted out, and well, I went out, alright! They sure decided, however, that I only threw myself out the window for attention, failing to keep in mind that throwing yourself out a second-story window is a rather risky way to get attention.

I too, was turned into a walking pharmacy. I became very addicted to one of the drugs they used to control me with Navane and ended up with permanent side effects as well like tardive dyskinesia.

I went into Valleyhead at 85 pounds, starved by one of my former foster mothers. I was picked on by Margaret, one of the meanest staffers there, for being so skinny. Part of the side effects of all the drugs they had me on was weight gain. I climbed over 130 pounds, a lot for a 5-footer. Did Barbara, who was even meaner, think that by telling me I “had all that fat to keep me warm” really think she was helping me in any way?

I also believe the owners were stealing the girls’ money. Whenever my folks would leave me money it either disappeared or I was told it was much less than what they said they left me.

Most of the mean, cold-hearted control freaks that ran the place had worse emotional issues than the “students” had! It has been 25 years since I was there yet I still have nightmares about being stuck back there, dominated and ridiculed by Donna, her sister Margaret, and Barbara. I don’t think to this day they have any conscience or remorse for the things they said and did to what were mostly very fragile and abused children. May God somehow see to it that they are punished for the hell they inflicted upon some of us!