## Sharon Goodner

E-mail
E-mail

> See her update

> I thought the best thing to put here is what I wrote to Buffalo Jokes about mental illness. I still get things screwed up sometimes, but like all Schizophrenics do, I'm still researching for my story. You can also go to the FaCTS NET MESSAGE BOARD and view under Government - COPS what I wrote there.

> I was diagnosed as Schizophrenia back in November, 1996. Obviously, this had been going on for years.

> I have had just about every mental disorder that there is in ALL the psychology books at one time or another and sometimes two or three at a time through the years. (Shouldn't I be in a padded cell by now?).

> Just to be brief: I was abused as a child by a family member, but at the time I didn't see it as being abused because actually, we were playing (my two sisters and I) and were aggravating my grandfather until he got so mad he started chasing us with the belt. But I was the youngest and my critical thinking was obviously not developed becaue I ALWAYS went to the same place and so I got caught and got the belt wherever he could find to hit me with it.

> I was also molested by a next door neighbor. He was mentally ill and like some children I liked it, so I didn't think that was bad either.

> Then, obviously because of these two things, there was this man (I want to say was a cop but I don't know that for sure) in our neighborhood that terrorized me. He told that some day some one was going to kill me if I didn't do what people told me to do. (fear conditioning) At that point in time, until I consciously started hearing the voices, I did what EVERYONE told me to do. Do you know how hard that was? I really did.

> Then, in school, my first love had an affair with my cousin. I was already emotionally unstable, and that is when I think I became bi-polar. I would be mad one day and the next I would be happy (euphoria). This is called betrayal trauma.

> Then, if that wasn't enough already, I married my husband at 17 years old. After three weeks, he started beating me. He would take my head and bang it in the wall. We had two children and he would go after them to spank them because they were crying. I stepped in and got anouther beating. Why didn't I leave? When someone has you on the ground and is choking you and cutting off your air supply and telling you if you tell or leave I'll kill you, you are inclined to believe them. (Also, remember, I was suppose to believe and do EVERYTHING anybody told me to.)

> My husband was in trouble with the cops. I was already scared of cops. I was already traumatized. This cop came in where I was working and talked me into going to bed with him. I did it becaue I was afraid that he would put me in jail if I didn't. That was how I thought. It never occurred to me that all I had to do was say no. (I've been practicing now, though.) Anyway, there were two cops. This one cop was on top of me (and I was enjoying it, too!) and he said, "If you tell this, I'll kill you." I was done. The only thing that I could think was get off, get off, get off. When he was finished (he undid his shirt, that is all and the BADGE was in my face the whole time.) he told me that the other cop was coming in next. Now this is how naive I was, I didn't realize I was suppose to do both. I got up and got out of there. Something good did come out of it though, when I got home I told my husband what I had done and what the cop said and he only hit me once after that. But the cop came back into the store later and tried to get me to do it again. I didn't tell him no, I just ignored him and showed him the huge knots on my head where my husband had hit me. The cop said, "You know that if you call the cops on your husband for beating you that they'll take YOU to jail." Of course, my conditioning, I believed him. Now, I know that that is not true. By the way, the cops have harassed me ever since. That was a set-up, but that's another story. Another thing is, that, when they would get my husband and me at the 911 center, they would separate us and interrogate us separately. I NEVER changed my story. The funny thing is, that I have since found out, that they can hear everything you say in the entire building, so, therefore, they heard what story my husband told me to tell them and I'll bet it just got their goats because I would not give until my husband came in the room and told me to tell the truth. (Physical and emotional abuse just makes you more stubborn!)

> I just wanted to give you some background to let you know that I might not be the best mother in the world but NEVER have I EVER wanted to kill my kids. Of course, I have been through the suicidal thing myself but I have decided I wouldn't give the cops the pleasure.

> Being Schizophrenic, I know how I am supposed to feel, but I don't feel it physically, only what the voices want me to feel and their favorite thing to do is when a cop comes in the store, to give me a "scared" feeling.

> Cops are not safe for me and they are the last people I would call to help me. (I would just have to call and say please come help me some more, I'm still breathing.)

> I still think that those cops thought that my husband would kill me when and if I told him. How would they know whether he would or not? Thinking back, it sure sounds like a big gamble to me.

> I tried the medication thing, I had gotten myself down to 5 milligrams and I was STILL zombied out. How? The voices can do that to you.

> That woman (Andrea) could have been hearing voices and the voices could have told her to kill her children. When I was on medication, I know now that I was still hearing them only I thought it was what I was thinking. For instance, this guy came in one night to buy beer. I was going to card him. The voice said, "Oh, he looks old enough, I'm too harassed, I'm not going to card him." I didn't card him. That was in Georgia. I transferred to the store in Chattanooga that I am at now, and three months later I got a letter telling me to turn myself in at the Walker County Jail for selling beer to a minor. As soon as that guy walked out the door, a grip of fear came in my stomach. That was the only time since I had started the medication and until I got off the medication that I had that feeling. How did my voices know that he was a cop? This is just ONE coincidence. I have all kinds of papers and at least three composition books that I haven't gotten typed up yet full of coincidences.

> When I read in your newsletter about Andrea, I just had to send you this to let you know that you can be mentally ill and you can refrain from doing bad things it really just depends if it is in your behavior rep. or not. If someone can screw up your values and beliefs, then they can put killing into your behavior rep. They clean the slate, then "mold" you into what THEY want you to be and change your belief system and everything. This can be done.

> The voices never tried to get me to kill anyone, but they did try to get me to throw an orange juice bottle at a cop car and don't you think for one minute that I didn't want to because I did want to, I just never did..

> Voices talk to you, just like you were having a conversation with a real live person standing in front of you, only they don't have bodies. They can make you see things and people that are not really there and they can make you NOT see people that are really there. They can keep you from hearing things and they can make you hear things that aren't there. Their favorite thing to make me hear at work is a horn blowing. I just say, "Honk if your horney!" If someone looks at me funny, I just turn it around on them and tell them I heard a horn, didn't you? Like they are the ones with the problem not me. Tacky but true.

> The whole thing is a harassment campaign against me from the police department. I know that sometimes people are just butts all by themselves, but other times it so noticeable to me that it is a set up. I just do like my mama use to do to me and my sisters when we were little. I just get them all to make sure I get the right ones.

> The cops are the ones that made me start hearing the voices consciously. I may have already been hearing them, but when another totally different cop came in my store back in 1995 and told me he was going to "take care of me" the paranoia increased and the feeling of doom set in.

> If they would leave me alone, there wouldn't be a problem, but they refuse to stop. I am followed everywhere, people act like they are going to pull out in front of me and act like they are going to try to run me off the road.

> It ain't easy being me, and, yea, sometimes I wish them a slow and painful death (I would be "sane" otherwise) but all in all I can't torture them if they are dead. The voices like to pretend that the cop that came in the store in 1995 is my husband. I can use it. If I'm mad because they have done something to me, I just point at the next cop I see and say, "Oh, look, there's my husband!" Guess how fast he gets gone? I'm the only person in the world that can clear a parking lot of cops! Oh, well, the voices said at one point in time that ALL cops were "Lee". That is the name of the cops that came in the store in 95'. The funny thing about that is that I never noticed his name, another clerk did. Lee had Lt Lee - on his name badge. I have since discovered that he has never been a Lt. I can get him for impersonating somebody important!

> I'm sorry this is so long, and it's probably jumbled up and it will be until I get it all together and figure what goes where. But I think you get the jest. I want people to know that just because your "mentally ill" does not necessarily mean that you are going to up and "kill" someone at a moments notice.

> Thus,
> Crazywoman

> OTHER INFORMATION/LINKS = FACTNET MESSAGE BOARD Then click on the Goverment link, then on the link for COPS

> received 3-18-2002

> You will not believe what has happened to me.

> When I was growing up, my sisters (two) and I would irritate my grandfather and he would start after us. One sister, Donna, is two years older than me, and my oldest sister, Sandy, was six years older than me. They knew to run and hide in different places. I would always say that I was going to a different place, but when the time came, I always went to the same place. It was fun until I got caught. I was always the one that got caught because I went to the same place everytime.

> He would hit me with the belt and I didn't think it hurt that bad, hell, I deserved it because we WERE irritating him so that he would chase us. One time he made a mark on my back and my mom saw it and she got on to him. I didn't see this as child abuse.

> Then, if this wasn't enough, a mentally retarded man molested me. I think now that that is why I feel that I am a pervert because I liked it. Then there was this man that lived two houses down from us. I remember being in his house and him telling me that someday someone would kill me because I didn't do what everyone told me to do. I never did anything that he told me to do. It seemed that every time I would come outside and my grandfather wasn't out there, he would be out there. I roamed up and down the streets. At that point in time it was safe to. I would be going to the people's house on the corner and he would come outside and tell me to go home. I would just go around the block to where I wanted to go. Who was he to tell me what to do? He would come outside and point a rifle at me and do all kinds of things to scare me. I remember thinking, "I know he's not pointing a rifle at me." I only remember him doing it once. I know I am not a bad person and I do not nor every did deserve any of this.

> Anyway, the next thing I remember is that I was in 4th grade. The whole 3rd grade came across the school yard holding hands towards me and my girlfriend and of course knocked us down. At this point in time, I cannot think for myself. I rely on others to tell me what to do. I try to do everything anybody tells me to. We move. I was always in trouble at school for fighting this boy that lived down the street. I started to date this guy when I was 16 years old and in 10th grade. He was in "our group" at school. He had made the rounds with everyone and I was the last one. Of course I had sex with him and he and my cousin ended up "doing it" in the back seat of my dad's car, while I was driving. It was my fault because It was that time of month and I told them they could. If I had told them to go jump off a bridge would they have done it?

> It was a bad situation. It was also a betrayal trauma. I got blamed for it somehow. My Uncle and Aunt didn't talk to my parents for years because of it. I know now it wasn't my fault, but I was so use to taking the blame that I took it. I took the blame for everything for years.

> In 1976 I married my ex-husband and I know it was on the rebound from my first love. His dad told me that he would start beating me within 3 months but I didn't believe him. He was right. He would take my head in a head lock and pound it in the wall. I had huge knots on my head. He choked me. He even tried to get me to hit myself in the stomach so I wouldn't have my first child. We lived not far my grandfather's house and when he would start and I was pregnant I would take the cat and the dog and go to my grandfather's house.

> I slept on the porch until I told on myself and he caught me one night. I always told everything I knew except for if anyone was screwing around on their spouse or girlfriend/boyfriend, ect.. I was accurate about it, though. When we got married it was in 76. When we got divorced it was 79 and he was in jail. He was always in trouble with the cops. Mostly petty theft. He wouldn't work.

> I didn't sleep most nights until he went to sleep, I was scared he would kill me in my sleep. Who wouldn't be? He pointed a gun at me and he was all the time telling me that he would kill me if I told that he beat me or if I left him. How was I to know that he really wouldn't kill me?

> I was already stressed to the max and scared shitless. I shook ALL the time. The cops harassed us all the time. I remember one night I was pregnant with Chris, my oldest, and this cop stopped us going through an alley and he jumped out of his car and pointed his gun right at me and started hollering for me to cut the lights out. I froze. I couldn't move. Mike, my husband, reached over and turned out the lights.

> We had a wreck. Me, my son and my husband. The strange thing is that the car hit us, we spun around, and he hit us again! They hit us so hard that my husband had to dig my glasses (literally) out of the back seat. Four or five different people got the same tag # as my ex, but the TAG WAS NOT REGISTERED. And let me add at this point, that since then (I work at a convenience store) that every time I get a tag # for what ever reason, it is still NEVER registered.

> Someone tried to run me off the road when I was going to parent's house in this same time frame. I was 2 or 3 months pregnant with my second child when we had that wreck. My husband also kicked me in the ribs and cracked them at the same time so he was born with a heart defect. But that was my fault because I smoked. I took the blame. I started working for a convenience store in September of 1979.

> These two cops started coming in, and I ended up going to bed with one of them. I know now that I flirted because I was scared. I worked third shift and I got up one day and I told my husband that something was going to happen at work that night. I just had a very bad feeling. While I was cleaning the parking lot, I kept getting the feeling that I was being watched, but I saw no one.

> Later on that night a van and a car pulled on the lot. I just thought, whatever it is, this is it. Sure enought the guys came in and bought a beer and I flirted with them outrageously because I was scared. I just got the feeling that one of them had a gun in his right hand pocket. I didn't see it and I don't remember if he really had one or not. They didn't do anything. They went out the door and I breathed a sigh of relief and started cleaning shelves and the next thing I know there are tires squealing and guns shooting outside the door. I looked out over the shelf and I saw a blue streak coming from somewhere. There was no back door so I ran for the cooler. It was the only place to go. I just kept thinking that they would probably come and kill me for a witness to it.

> In a few minutes a cop stuck his head in the door and asked me was I alright. Well, what do you think? I didn't know whether to be relieved or not. Because then, just like now, the robbers and the cops are the same, neither is safe for me. Seems the cops had been watching the store because these guys had been at a bar earlier in the week and had been bragging about how they were going to rob the store. One guy was shot real bad. The other guy came in later and asked if I would go and be a witness.

> They didn't do anything to me. So why not? Then this cop comes in later and jumps all in my shit and tells me I better not go and be a witness for them. I am guessing that because my husband was scared of the cops, I learned to fear them, too. Obviously with good reason. These two cops started coming in my store regularly after this incident.

> One of them, pencil, flirted with me. I flirted back because I was scared of him. He talked me into going to bed with him. I was only 20 years old. I didn't know that I had a choice. I was so scared that he would find a way to put me in jail that I didn't think that I had a choice. He talked my manager into letting us use her apartment. The other cop , Mitchel, (who now lives across the street from my parents where I live now) stood at the front door. Pencil and I went into the bedroom and he undid his shirt and pulled it out while I took my pants and underwear off. We were in the middle of doing it when he said, "If you tell this, I'll kill you!" I was done. The only thing that I could think was get off, get off, get off me.

> He got done and he told that the other cop would be in there next. I told him no he wouldn't and I got up and got out of there as fast I could. Believe it or not, I was so naiive that I didn't have a clue that I was suppose to screw both of them.

> I had told the cop about my husband and his friend stealing a tv from a school. When I got home, my husband cornered me against the dresser with his hand on my throat choking me wanting to know who I screwed last night? This was an every morning thing. I kept telling him no one. Then finally I told him a cop. He immediately dropped his hand, and took a step back. I told him that the cop had told me that he would kill me if I told. I also told him that I had told the cop about the tv.

> We carried the tv out to the playhouse in the back yard. As we were going down the steps, we both heard a foot step on our gravel driveway. We both looked, AND NO ONE WAS THERE. Later the cops came and got the tv and did nothing to my husband. But one cop looked at me and asked me if I loved my husband. I was thinking no but I said yes. Was he trying to get me another beating? I think he was. I'm not a gambler and now I know that I would not have gotten help from them anyway. So it was best that I lied. My husband only hit me once after that on the arm with a fire poker stick.

> Then, those two cops came back in my store and tried to get me to do it again. When the cop I had screwed asked me about doing it again, I ignored him and started showing him the knotts in my head and the bruise on my arm. He told me that if I called the cops to my husband, that they would take ME to jail. I never called them.

> Another cop, that was doing the drugs stings now, David, came on my lot one night not long after and told me that I could look for him on Highway 58 if I wanted to. Now I know that he is the one with the delusion, not me. No one knew for a long time what Mike had done to me.

> I finally left him and went to live with my mom and dad. Before when I was with Mike and the babies cried, I would hear them. At my mom's house, she had to come and wake me up when they were crying so that made me a bad mother.

> Oh, well. Lots of little things happened with the cops but I'll skip them for now and move on to when I met my late boyfriend in 1988. I got a boyfriend and a good job that year. We split a couple of times, but we always got back together. He smoked pot. I would only take two or three tokes and would be out for the count. This is an important fact. We were living in an apartment together in 1995. I had been working for convenience stores since 1993. The good job is history and another story.

> Anyway, I worked third shift. One night, in January or February, I was straightening shelves and looked out the window to see cops on my lot. There was this HUGE GIANT cop and these little midget cops. Now every one tells me that this cop is not that big. Well, he was to me at the time. I just looked out and he appeared to be looking at me. Of course, I talked to myself all the time and still do. Now, I think, it is just a habit. Anyway, I said, "God, he's big." Then I dismissed it and went back to work. Not long after, this cop started working for the store behind my store. It has Big Lots and Gooney Golf right there together in the back of my store. If you know anything about Chattanooga then you'll know it was the Conoco on Brainerd Road.

> Anyway, I remember this cop would stand in my store and watch me talk to myself. I remember looking at him and shrugging my shoulders and I just kept right on talking to myself. I must have thought to myself that he really wasn't there. He would go around the parking lot running people of my lot on Fridays and Saturdays. During the week, my phone would ring, and I would go to the cage to answer it and it would quit ringing and then I would see him going up the street in his police car. It wasn't always him. Sometimes it would be a cop car and other times it would be a tinted windowed vehicle. I would be followed everywhere. I would go in to a store, and some one would be in there watching me.

> Now, I realize that sometimes there may not have been someone watching me, but I do know that sometimes there really were. Like now, sometimes I know that I am being blantantly harassed, but sometimes I don't know if it is a set-up or not. I just get all of them to make sure I get the right ones.

> Anyway, to begin with, I had a police scanner at the store I listened to. The cops would say things and I do know that these things were really said on the scanner. For instance, the dispatcher came on one night and was asking some cop if he would go and check on "her" for Lee. The cop, sounding disgusted, told him he would. The next thing I see is a cop driving by the store and he gets back on the scanner and tells the dispatcher that "she is fine". The dispatcher thanks him.

> This is just an example of ONE time this happened. Just so you know that I am not TOTALLY delusionally. One morning I left work and made the mistake of thinking that I wished I could hear the scanner in the car. My wish came true. I heard it in my head, but I really didn't realize it was in my head. This is really hard to explain.

> Obviously the voices had been there all my life and I talked out loud to myself to keep from hearing them. It was sometime at this point in time that the "talking to myself" changed. Before the cop showed up at the store, I would just talk about what I was doing. After the cops and people started stressing me out, I talked about everything and everybody out loud. It didn't matter if they were standing in front of me at the time. If I had something bad to say, I said it. I am just getting more stressed and stressed.

> This cop came in the store one night with a woman. The second shift clerk and I were fixing to change shifts. After the cop and his lady friend left, the clerk hollered back to me that the cops name was Lt. Lee A-----. He used that Lt on me. No one else EVER saw that Lt. but the second shift clerk and me. Everytime I would work, He had that on his badge. If someone elsed worked, he just had LA on his badge. I have discovered that he has NEVER been a Lt. I would sit and read the paper and I would read the obituaries.

> I would hear this man's voice (and it sounded like it was in my head) and he would say, "Good" when I would read an obituary. I didn't think much about it or I forgot it as quickly as I heard it, I don't know which. In other words, the voices were talking and I thought that that was really what I was thinking. Now I know the difference.

> This went on and I went on day shift. The manager at the time would rather hear me bitch than to run the register. He had made me the Assistant Manager. If someone didn't show up, I had to go in and work it. There were days that I would get off and not go to bed and have to go back and work third and first and there were two weeks there that I worked 90 hours or more two weeks in a row. So this helped the cops, too.

> I finally left my boyfriend because the voices were giving me the impression that if I didn't leave my boyfriend would go to jail because of the pot. I started a fight and left. I stayed at my mom's house for two weeks and I got my own apartment.

> The first night I lived there, I remember hearing kids running above me but I had a cold and I was sick and so I slept. One day I left work and I turned down this street and there was this car sitting on the right hand side of the road facing me and this man was sitting in the driver's seat. As I past him, he pointed his thumbs upward. The voices made me think that that meant that Lee was upstairs above my apartment.

> I forget to tell you that Lee had come into the store one night. He had his little boy with him. It was hot. I had some freebie cups and he got one and got him some coke. I just looked at him and told him to fix his little boy one, too. The thought never crossed my mind that he had intended on giving his little boy some his coke. See, I don't drink after other people. When my oldest son was a baby, he wanted some of my milk after he had finished his so I let him drink out of my glass. He gave it back to me and it had food particles from his mouth in it. I just told him he could have it and that was gross and I have never drunk after anyone since.

> Anyway, he fixed his little boy one (the kid never moved or looked up the entire time he was in the store and his lady friend did the same thing) He went to the door and was leaning on it looking at and he said, "I'm going to take care of you." Then he pointed to himself with his forefinger and repeated, "I'm going to take care of you."

> Talk about being scared. You know, that could mean two things. He was going to make sure no one bothered me, or he was going to kill me. I bet you can guess which way I took that. A couple of days later I was taking out the garbage and a cop car was sitting in the back on Big Lot's parking lot. The feeling of doom set in and come to think of it, it has never really gone away.

> I have learned that cops can not be trusted. Anyway, after that man did the thumbs up thing, I started to hear everytime I went home it wouldn't be long until I heard a car pull in front of the upstairs apartment and footsteps up the stairs. At first it was like someone in stocking feet would follow me throughout the apartment following me from room to room. Then the whispers started. I was sitting on my bed talking to myself as usual, and I heard Lee's laugh and I did recognize the voice even in a whisper. I thought they were truly up there and I am not sure they weren't actually talking to me at first.

> They do have the technology to do that, but I didn't know that then. Anyway, a woman's voice I didn't recognize said, "What she doing?" He said, "Talking to herself." And from that point on they would discuss me between themselves at home. I still heard the scanner in the car. I finally quit the Conoco because I heard Lee's voices say one time that he wished I would find another job. So I did. I went to the Golden Gallon. I knew the manager there. She was a very sweet and fair lady. Her name was Ruth. I still only heard the voices at home. I was so stressed there that I couldn't even use the bathroom. I would use it when I got to work.

> Then (just another coincidence, mind you) a cop, Mac, always came in every morning and stayed with Ruth for a while and man the coffee machine for her.

> Ruth had gone to the back and he whispered in my ear. I didn't hear the first of what he said, and this had happened on Brainerd Road, too, some man had come in the store one day and said something foreign to me and then pretended he didn't say anything, but I did hear the last. He told me that he would take care of me if it wasn't for Ruth. He liked Ruth. I don't know if they had a thing going and I don't care because it was not my business. Ruth, whether she knew anything or not, never helped them except she told me I couldn't bring my scanner.

> Now I know why. If I had been listening to the scanner, I wouldn't have paid the voices much attention. I started hearing the voices talk at work that night. It sounded, at first, like they were talking (whispering) into some kind of water. You know how when you gurggle with water, it was like that except for it was words. This is the part where you strain to hear the demons before they even speak. I was straining to hear them. I was curious. Then they got clearer. This woman totally got on my nerves by repeating everything I said to customers and every thing I did. She made it sound like she was talking directly to the cops.

> One time two cop cars came up the Highway and she said, "Well, she saw you, but she didn't say anything." It was February of 96 when I quit the Conoco and started working at the Golden Gallon. My sister died a week later from a kidney disease. I was not "allowed" to cry. The Lee voice would say things like, "If she doesn't go to bed, I'm leaving. If she cries, I'm leaving." I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want him there either.

> At some point in time I took a bottle of pills. This is another long story, too. But later when the pills wore off, the woman's voice told me that if I killed myself, Lee would get blamed for it. I didn't try it again. I thought about it, but I didn't try it again.

> The first week of September, the voices had me believing that someone was trying to kill me. There were three men that came in the store one night and all three times I was nice to them in one way or other because the voices wanted me to think that they were going to kill me. One was driving a Uhaul truck. And (another coincidence) a Uhaul truck just happened to be parked on the lot in front of my apartment when I woke up that night.

> I quit my job that night. I had what I call half curtains on my windows. The voices talked me into calling the cops that night. I was so stressed and scared so I did. Of course, this just stressed me out more and I didn't know why I called them in the first place. The voices told me to tell them that someone was peeping in my window. So I did. They looked around and left. The voices told me to call them again. I called again. The man cop told me to put a blanket or something over the window. The woman cop, Linda, went right "up there" after they left. Of course, physically, Linda left and went straight to the Golden Gallon to tell Sam, the lady that had to come in because I quit.

> My question here is that if they thought something was THAT wrong with me, why didn't the cops do something? Could it be that they couldn't harass me if I was somewhere where they couldn't get to me? I understand that they are supposed to be trained to at least see that there is a problem with someone.

> But, not too awfully long ago, I told a customer this and he said, "Oh, that's the problem, they are not trained." Whatever! Anyway, I'm leaving a lot out, by the way, this started three weeks of sleep depriviation, sensory depriviation and I still say I didn't "make the break".

> The voices say that they just changed their minds and didn't go through with it. I say it didn't work that's why they changed their minds. Anyway, for the next three weeks they kept me up and honestly sometimes it took me a while to figure out what day it was. They told me I was a guniea pig, they had a computer (which if this is true, I intend to shove up their "where the sun don't shine"), I was a rat, and that they were brainwashing me.

> At one point in time, the Linda voice told me I ate a poison mushroom. I have to explain this part. There were 4 cops. Real cops. One was Lee. One was the "scary" Lee. One was the "cute" Lee and one was just a total imposter period. But at the time, apparently they waited a certain length of time so that I would forget, and send each cop in knowing that I would think that they were Lee. The scary cop they gave me a dream where he walked into the Conoco and pointed a gun at me and told me that if I told anyone else that he was following me around that he was going to kill me. I know this was a dream because they are not that stupid, especially since there are cameras in the store. They used this Lee for when they thought that I might do something they didn't want me to do. He would show up and I would stop whatever it was (saying or doing, mostly telling on them). The "cute" Lee, they used his loud voice "up there".

> This was within those three weeks. The fourth one, I remember him being in the store one time when I went in on Brainerd Road one night when I was off. During these three weeks, now Lee had forbid me to go anywhere near the upstairs apartment, they goaded me into going upstairs and knocking on the door. They told me that they had a bottle of pills for me. I guess I decided I'd rather have the pills, than to have Lee. Now, I'd still take the pills.

> Anyway, I went up there and it was dark and I was standing on the front porch facing the upstairs apartment. Now, behind me, across the street, is where my Aunt Judy lives. I'm still facing the apartment and the voices tell me to duck down because Judy was looking out her window. I automatically ducked. I never turned around. I was so stressed, that I could not think clearly or critically.

> My thinking was totally gone. After I got on meds, my Aunt Judy told me that she thought that she had seen me on the porch that night. AND she told me that a cop lived there and TWO girls were GOING in there constantly. I NEVER at one time through this whole thing EVER thought that I was really nuts.

> I always said that they were trying to drive me crazy. And I know I'm right. The last week at that apartment, my landlord "talked" to me. She told me to get out and look for a job and get off the couch. They were going to steal my shit. I just sat there and listened. The landlord's voice told me to get out. She told me I had to get out by Tuesday. I told her I didn't have to get out until Friday. That was when my rent was up. Then one time, they kept telling me to look out the window and I would see Lee. I finally did look out the window and I did see the scary Lee. Then they went through this stuff that I "saw" the scary Lee on his knees and other people up stairs.

> It was like they were statues, but real people. Then the cute Lee told me, "Honey, I love you, but it ain't never going to happen." Then the Linda cop (sounding like she was reading, but this time I could hear her) said, "No cop will ever have anything to do with you again." My response was, "Thank God!" And I still feel that way today, only more so.

> I moved to my parents. I slept in the living room and I still heard them. They were "UP ON THE ROOF". I "saw" these cops walking down a spiral staircase in the middle of my mom's house. Actually, it was a closet, but I thought it was cool, even then. They made it sound as if all the cars, mine, my dad's, my mom's, and two of my kids had cars at the time, were starting up and leaving. I told them which car it was. This went on until I finally told mama I was going to have to talk to someone.

> The reason I told her was because they kept telling me to go up to the Golden Gallon, not Ruth's but there is another one up the Highway, and sit in the parking lot and pull my pants down and wait for the cops and tell them I was a pervert. I was afraid that I really would do this.

> This whole time they had been making me take my clothes off, go sit on the couch (at my apartment) and wait for Lee to come. The car would always pass and they always had an excuse as to why Lee didn't come. But they did this over and over and over and over.

> When I got to mama's house, it was go outside and sit in the car. Get out of the car and sit down under the tree. Get up and get back in the car and sit. Get out and go back inside. This was over and over and over again.

> O.K. mama and I were going to MacDonald's to meet her preacher. I didn't have a clue what I would tell him and out of my mouth out of nowhere came, "Mama, I'm hearing voices." I was even relieved to hear it. I had just kept thinking about what I was going to tell him. I hadn't had a clue until that came out of my mouth.

> We met the preacher and I asked him if there was any way that the cops could be doing it. He told me no. I believed him and I was relieved. He asked me what they were saying now and I had a visual of this woman sitting where the wall meets the ceiling in the middle sitting on some kind of brown bench with her back to me, but she turned and said, "She's not a stupid bitch." And so I repeated to him what she said. Their favorite thing to sing to me was "Sharon is a stupid bitch." Over and over. And they would say, "It doesn't matter what Sharon thinks."

> I told Roy, my youngest son, that one time when he asked my opinion about something and the voices gave me hell about it. They told me never to tell Roy that again. They would always say this is not about Christopher, Michael, or Roy, it's about Sharon.

> I went to Fortwood Center and told the counselor. I told her that I went back and forth. She told me that she had never known someone to go into the unreal world and not stay there. I thought I was special. She left the room and came back and told me that they needed to get me on medication as soon as possible.

> They did. But from that day forward she would not discuss the voices with me period. Well, I was still scared on the medication, but the cops didn't bother me that I know of. I would watch their hands, and still do, if they come anywhere near me and if I was some place I wouldn't stand next to them. I can't stand to. I started the medication in November of 96.

> I worked at the Holiday Bowl for 2 or 3 months and then went to Mr. Zip to work. I got robbed. That is another story. I went back to the Conoco in 97. The Conoco has sheilds. I started working in Flinstone, Georgia. I had worked there for over a year. I was still on meds. I was working third shift. Then I moved to second. This guy came in and brought beer up to the counter. I started to card him and the voice (now I still think that this is what I am acutally thinking because I'm on meds and I'm not going to hear voices right?) says, "Oh, he looks old enough (which he did) I'm too harassed, I'm not going to card him." I sold it to him. He went out the door. I got a pang of fear in my stomach when I have flat emotions.

> I just thought that they would be back to get me if I had sold it to a minor. I transferred to the store I am at now. This happened in March. In June I got a letter to turn myself in at the Walker County Jail because I had sold beer to a minor. I got a lawyer. I had to find another job until it was over. So over a year and over a thousand dollars later, my lawyer got it dismissed.

> I went back to work at the Conoco where I am now. In the meantime, I had moved out from Mama and Daddy's to renting a house with B and my son Roy. I started back in April and I had quit taking the meds.

> In JUNE of 1999, I noticed that a car was blantantly following me. It was as if he wanted me to KNOW that he was following me. Of course, I was scared. But I did nothing. Then the cops start following me. I'm getting stressed again. I DID NOT start stressing until that night that I realized that the car was actually following me and then the cops start following me, too. Maybe the cops weren't actually following me, but I started seeing them again. So, they were invisible for two years, and all of a sudden, they appear again. Whatever! I got totally stressed and decided that they had started harassing me again.

> I asked Roy if he wanted to go for a ride. He knows. We went up Amnicola Highway. It is about 5:00pm. That cop Mac that was at the Golden Gallon all the time came down Amnicola past me. Roy says, "Mama, you know your in trouble now!" The reason for this is that the school had had to call Mac to come and talk to Roy because Roy hated school and was not fond of the Principal. Mac had told Roy that if he had to work over time again he was going to be in big trouble.

> It is 5:00pm. Two hours past time for him to be off, supposedly. This is obviously was to scare me. It did, but I kept going. We ended up on Lee Highway. It is hot and we have our windows down. We get to a red light and this car comes squealing to halt on Roy's side. He had come off the freeway. He jumps out of his car and screams into a bull horn. I asked Roy what he said and Roy didn't understand, but it was to us, we know that for sure. We got home and was telling B about it. B asked if we knew what he said and Roy said he could have said that he was a queer for all he knew.

> The next morning the voices started talking to me again. Well, by now, you probably think that I am totally delusional but I know I'm not. You know, us Schizophrenics KNOW. So, they have totally harassed me ever since. B had gotten a computer. He left in September of 2000. He left the computer until I moved back to mama's last year because I couldn't afford it. Anyway, the kids had gotten an AOL disc from Kmart. B had left the phone on and so they got on the internet and showed me how.

> I was surfing and looking up all sorts of things and I found the Mind Control Forum. I have not been paranoid since. The only thing that I am paranoid about, is that I am afraid that they will set me up again. That would be in their behavior rep.

> I am documenting and taking notes. I have left a lot out, but they keep telling me that I have to forgive them or they are not going to leave. I guess they'll be there forever. I realize that not every one is "sent" to harass me. But, sometimes it is so hard to tell, that I just get them all to make sure I get the right one. I could love them again and be happily screwed. But I've already been happily screwed and I didn't like that either. Now, I think I'll just stay plain screwed. People will come in the store and (while buying beer) will tell me that I am going to hell.

> I just say, "And the difference would be?" I saw the behavioral modification stuff, some of it I understand, some of it I don't. but I got to thinking about that and I thought well, they may be conditioning me, but I am also conditioning them. I've told them to go to hell so many times that I know that they are convinced that they are going by now. Hey, I'm going to save them a seat!