OhItsThatGuyAgain - Journal (replies welcome)

Over the course of a few minutes; the thought-forms have namedropped a random therapist whom I last met with in 2014 and was too busy to see me last year when I tried to make an appointment. The thought-forms respond with, "poor baby," as I begin to recall how she was among the various female mental health care providers they'd initially (in 2019); accused me of having done something to them to the equivalent of rape or even murder. One in her 60s; two others in their 30s--all three currently appear to be alive, well, married, with children, and employed with the exact same corporations at the exact same locations as they'd been at for over half a decade; regardless, they regularly reject this information and have me repeatedly go outside looking for these women almost daily--one of whom threatened to place a restraining order on me in the 2016 to 2018 period and another from the 2018 to 2020 period (the latter being the only successful in carrying out their threats). Within these past few hours alone; they continue having me reject the advice and information of attorneys, police officers, judges, other mental health care providers, family members, etc. in order to have me looking for a supposed dead woman and her dead husband across the same cemetery I went looking for them at over three years ago and across one, two, three, four, perhaps up to five or six (at least) different cities. They ask, "so what?" as I state the obvious of the danger behind having me look for a woman and husband who's placed a restraining order on me a few months before getting myself involuntarily committed at a hospital, forcefully medicated, and had my right to purchase and own a firearm for security work as I'd done in 2016 but will not be allowed to again until 2027. "Who gives a ###$?" they ask as they cheer and laugh--shortly before blaming a male cousin of using a feminine voice (the voice of a female neighbor whom I recognize from the 2015 to 2017+2018+early-2019 period) mock me into looking for her apartment upstairs, next door, across the hall, on the third floor, in a different building next to this one, etc. in order to kill her *mod edit*. The thought-forms continue to smile at me as my convulsions worsen and my bed has begun to shake audibly. "Heck yeah!" a boyish voice exclaims.

Case in point (this part is mostly for me):

They never really stopped using the little boy these past six to twelve hours or so--even as I attempted to shower and eat breakfast. More than once today; the thought-forms told me that they would stop using kids. They did not. Not exactly the first time they do this this year (and last year), either. Once I'd finished showering; I considered doing something other than staring at still photography for hours on end. They do not like this. Just about anything even remotely stimulating (whether it be physically and/or mentally) seems to "offend" the little boy--which they use as a justification to use him sexually. They've even confirmed (and smile at me now--telling me to prove something that they'd regularly told me that nobody would believe, to keep quiet about, and that I don't have to prove anything) that they won't even allow me to play fast-paced video games such as first-person shooting and real-time strategy games. Even now as I become more stimulated while writing this; they taunt me as my convulsions become more painful approaching seizures. Hell--sometimes I don't even have to be stimulated--only falling asleep (whether it be day, morning, night, whether or not I was already asleep and they woke me up with a nightmare only to keep me up using the little boy--at least once having him taunt me until I ended up walking and running in a cold, winter, rainy night from 9 PM to 5 AM in late-2021). "Haha," they tell me now.

As far back as 2019; the thought-forms had claimed that they represent mental health care providers, law enforcement, federal government agents, deities, extraterrestrials, demons, random internet trolls, and even THE God. As far back as then: not only did they claim to be all of these people/beings and expected me to accept this at face value; but, they expected me to believe that I always was, still am, and always will be the only person in the world who has a problem with people who take pictures of others as they use the toilets in public restrooms to post online, take pictures of underage kids in coitus in their bedrooms without their consent, drive others into committing suicide (even minors), commit murders and make them seem like accidents, take pictures of gruesome accidents and post them online, etc. Not only did they (and still do over three years later) claim that literally everyone in the planet approves of this, but one must somehow be "evil" for discussing things that are occasionally discussed on the news, TV ads, etc. Even now; the thought-forms continue to ridicule me non-stop from the very moment I wake up (regardless of the time and how much or little I'd slept) up until I write these posts.

"So what?" and, "who gives a ###$?" they ask as they resume showing the little boy with something in his mouth before, during, and after "apologizing" (which they often do literally at the same time as they ridicule me, show me the boy, claim to have done the "same thing" to one of my mental health care providers whom I can easily look up online in regards to their whereabouts within seconds and/or see them in person within minutes, and yet they continue asking, "so what?" twice as I was writing this sentence--which they snicker at). They also continue to claim that they promise to not use children as they'd been doing these past 300 days or so only to resume literally within five seconds after waking up with the little boy. "So what?" and "but of course!" (they tell me in Spanish--often insisting that I go into extreme detail describing all of this--blaming me for somehow not being detailed enough in the past to my therapists and others but too detailed all at once).

They smile again--showing me up to three, four, or even five different thought-forms after repeatedly insisting that it's somehow my fault for not focusing on only one (Jan) whom they often replace as I attempt to focus on something else (e.g. my studies, TV, etc.) "Who gives a ###$?" they ask yet again as they smile and laugh while the boy *mod edit* --strongly hinting at finishing this post because this window is about to crash

Once again: even after claiming that they would no longer use children; they resume as soon as I get myself excited for even a split-second into doing something other than simply staring at static images of various women (e.g. I'd much rather be researching ancient history, but unconsciously I apparently think more about sex than trying to figure out how to survive past the age of 40 or once my mother dies--whichever comes first). For the most part; they'd much rather have me staring at images of women more so than anything else (even having me look at maps of ancient locations tends to get interrupted with various annoying little comments as I get excited--in very much the same way they are now with the little boy asking "so what?" and "who gives a ###$?"--just last year they'd repeatedly interrupt my visualizations of various maps while walking outside using the little boy among large crowds on the basis that it was "boring". They simultaneously have the little boy behaving apologetically on my lap while the others ask "so what?" and add "well duh" as if it should be so obvious to me why they insisted on showing me a little boy kneeling before me among large crowds of people in broad daylight simply because I attempted to visualize a map of ancient Iraq. "Who gives a ###$?" they ask yet again).

They continue to be amused by their own "jokes" which is about as simple as: showing me a little boy performing sexually, referring to the induction of such hallucinations from literally less than five seconds ago as "last year", accusing me of deserving this because I'm somehow responsible of this "same thing" being done to Kiernan Shipka (among others) past, present, and/or future--regardless as to whether or not I specified that they show her (or others) pornographic imagery of little boys at 1 AM on hot summer mornings for focusing on the same pornographic imagery that they refuse to allow me to look away from whether it be day, night, morning, here at home or along the Hollywood boulevard--imagery that doesn't go away even when I close my eyes and has sometimes even appeared in my dreams. They continue to claim to be doing the same thing to various family members (cousins, aunts, uncles) and tell me to shut up as they smile, laugh, and ridicule me. "So what?" they ask before pointing out that having them do the same thing to a cousin somehow justifies them showing me the little boy (whom they often refer to by the names of at least two family members--one being the aforementioned cousin who looks nothing like the little boy) performing various sex acts before, during, and after my writing this.

"So what?" they ask yet again as the little boy remains nude *mod edit* before and after stating "well duh" using the little boy's *mod edit*. "Let's lube up," they tell me before using Kiernan Shipka yet again to justify this then scoffing at me for taking their "jokes" seriously--also blaming me assuming that a negative outcome occurs due to my writings as they did last year with one of my therapists and the police--also accusing me of somehow telling them specifically to show me the little boy almost 24/7 for over 300 days--even after more than twice the time had passed in between when I first met the woman who would later go on to place a restraining order on me and actually go through with having the police hand me over a copy of a temporary restraining order.

They now use my current convulsions as further justification for them to remain.

"Who gives a ###$?" and "that was awesome" shortly before having the little boy reappear with a baseball cap (to make him look more like a blond woman wearing a baseball cap working in valet near the beach in 2016 whom I found to be very attractive) and having the boy tell me, "I think so too," *mod edit*. They laugh some more. "But of course!" as they smile.

Thought-forms continue to confirm my points to each other and myself (only to have them promptly reject these "good points" of mine and laugh about it). Not only did they previously refer to their "Jan" thought-form as being "free porn" that I shouldn't complain about (they now call me a moron for writing this and say, "you betcha'" then behave as if I'm being ungrateful), but they now refuse to allow me to masturbate or even become sexually aroused for even a split-second by Jan--which they often use as a justification to switch back to using the little boy. "Who gives a $#%^?" as they smile and laugh. They sometimes switch to random naked women I've actually met (e.g. an in-law and a therapist) only to switch back to the little boy with such commentary such as, "well duh" and "but of course" and "pues claro". They also refer to these hallucinations as falling under "free therapy" (or "hypnotherapy"'), but insist on telling me to "get help"--only to have them interrupt my sessions with various health care providers (e.g. therapists, nurses, doctors, etc.) literally as I'm in the same room as them--sometimes even confusing the conversations in certain ways that lead me to questioning whether I'd heard such people correctly (some such people I can no longer see--including a retired male therapist from 2019-2021)--and then often having the thought-forms outright reject what such professionals had told me--sometimes even within less than one hour after seeing them.

I haven’t posted here in ages, but simply have to now. Sweety, I am so, so sorry you are going through this. I had to read every post a couple of time just to make some sense of it; I can’t even imagine having to live with all that.

You obviously know these are hallucinations and are able to function, at least to some degree, despite having them around. Are you taking any meds to control them? Are you in therapy? What does your Psych say? Someone must pay close attention and try to help you.

Hugs and if you want to chat or just have someone to listen to what you have to say, I am here.

Thought-forms just proceeded to accuse me of "shaming" the little boy simply by doing something completely unrelated to "him" and all other thought-forms--which is attempting to read an anime-related thread on an entirely different forum and attempting to recognize the anime being discussed. They now use this to resume showing me the little boy *mod edit*. They hint at the idea here that this is somehow my fault for attempting to do anything more stimulating than staring at non-pornographic portrait photographs or going to sleep at 2 PM as I wait for my mother to finish cooking dinner.

Not the first time they pull this sort of thing. They do it regardless of how stimulated I am or whether I've had enough sleep. They now accuse me of intentionally starting my "tantrum" out of boredom--which they now laugh at and again accuse me of "shaming" the little boy. As to how to avoid shaming him; they tend to respond with, "how should I know?" and/or simply having the little boy hallucinations become more vivid and *mod edit* (inappropriate).

They now comment, "action!" once again blaming me of starting this tantrum.

Not entirely sure why; but the thought-forms have begun to use the little boy more aggressively than they were over twelve hours ago. "How should I know!?" one of them asks me as I attempt to recall what time I woke up (11 PM yesterday). The little boy has resumed with the usual sex acts even after apologizing. "You betcha'" they tell me after accusing me of telling this "us" to do something to Kiernan Shipka. The little boy adds "yum" just now. One of the men adds "you bet". They also sometimes refer to Jan as "Areg Fuller" (an Armenian masculine forename combined with the surname of an old high school teacher). They claim that I am somehow responsible for Jan's/Areg's suicide despite the fact that I've never met her and she'd apparently committed suicide in this apartment before I moved in.

As for "Jan". For the most part; she closely resembles an actress named Rebecca Ferguson as she appeared in the film "Snowman"; although, the thought-forms had initially (in 2019) compared her to a redheaded woman I'd last seen in 2008 using words such as "it's the same thing" -- "same one" -- "same bitch", etc. They'd later tell me that Jan was: dead (was driven into committing suicide by other neighbors before I moved in back in 2015, apparently), was still alive by 2019 and working as a federal government psychic from New York or Alaska, was a civilian psychic with her business somewhere within Los Angeles county (I went looking for her a few times and never found her--ended up seeing two unrelated psychics in 2019/2020 and paid up $60), was married and/or had children, was actually an old woman past her 60s or 70s, was a teenager and underage, was still an infant, and also a transvestite. I'd also been told that she was living in various apartments in this building--on both sides of this apartment--across the hall, upstairs in the third floor (I live in the first), somewhere in Glendale or West Los Angeles, and so on.

"So what?" they now ask me as they resume using the little boy yet again as they were before and during dinner and expect me to smile and laugh as if the little boy alone is sufficient as a joke whereas watching funny Youtube videos with animals is apparently insufficient because (apparently--not always--but the thought-forms assume this to be inevitable)--tend to remind me of a certain woman whom the thought-forms themselves had initially (in 2019) told me to completely forget about (not Jan--but the blond woman who placed a restraining order on me) but who's face they insist on showing me daily and using some sort of Tachikoma-like Ghost in the Shell anime voice accompanied by cartoonish Disney-like animals such as birds and guinea pigs. As I point this out to them; they tend to assume that I'd prefer looking at the little boy doing his thing.

They snicker and laugh as I write this. "But of course!" and "who gives a ###$?" as the little boy resumes.