A few months after I divorced my husband of 15 years because I became convinced that he was a secret CIA agent, in January 2014, I moved in my with my newly acquainted friend that I met at an art event in Washington DC. I was convinced that this man had also been assigned to me by the government and that he was to serve as my new partner. Knowing that he would never speak frankly with me about his top secret initiatives, I rarely asked questions or talked to him about my confusion as to why all the secrecy and subterfuge. Pacifying my frustrations, I would only make snide innuendo about me being his “new assignment or partner.” He just thought I was joking around with him.
He knew I was a little different and didn’t get my cryptic hints. He didn’t realize that I was fully aware of this top secret operation but reasonably and understandably chalked up some of my confusing subtleties and bizarre behavior to stress. Stress induced behavior was understandable as I was undertaking both divorce and a move.
I was leaving a 15-year marriage and, because I believed I would be well compensated for a new science reality show soon to come, purposefully left all of my material possessions accumulated over that time to stay with my husband. Through the signals on the TV and code nested in everyday language by secret agents, there was an unspoken understanding that I was meant for a much more lucrative and high profile lifestyle. To me, this was an unshakeable fact.
I was so convinced of future wealth and grandeur, I didn’t even attempt to split our marital finances and possession of 15 years, But only 8 months from my separation and move, I was totally broke and found Washington DC and area too expensive to live. During those months, my relationship with my friend had evolved romantically and we left the Washington DC area for Winchester, VA. It was a town with a much less average cost of living and was more closely located to where his children lived.
Winchester was less expensive and it was also more remote. My boyfriend found it near impossible to find employment. He finally accepted a commission only sales position with a life insurance company. It was a tedious job requiring many hours and paid intermittently. Becuase I was in constant fear that I would be abducted by government agents or captured by a secret underground sex cult, I wouldn’t leave the house and remained unemployed.
The sparse and unstable structure of the life insurance business proved not to be strong enough to fortify a successful life in Winchester and we found ourselves served with an eviction notice.
The few months in this economically depressed town coupled with lack of stable work forced us to seek help from family. Packing up and contemplating our new future home, we prepared ourselves to move in with his parents in Long Neck, Delaware.
Not sure what to think of these new strangers I would be living with, I watched them closely and quickly picked up on their mannerisms and behaviors that identified them as “part of it.” They were undoubtedly secret government agents. And while I was cordial to them, I eyed and surveyed them suspiciously at all times and constantly listened to the secret messages delivered in the code they were speaking.
After about 3 months in their home, although I never revealed to her my psychosis, his step-mother detected deeply running discontent within me and acted to help.
A devout Christian and very kind woman, she invited me to all kinds of events. I appreciated her concern and efforts, but each ice cream and cookies social, each prayer group, and each bible verse bookmarks making session only revealed that she and her friends were complicit in this covert government operation. They were all secret agents. I could hear it in their words. I could see it in their mannerisms. It was all so blatantly evident.
Throughout all of the events, I was never rude to her or let on my convictions. But she was intuitive and could easily sense my discomfort.
One night, she came in my room bearing a pen and notebook with a flowery spring print. She handed them to me and said, “here, this is for you . . I think you need to write. I think it may help you.”
I thanked her and immediately realized the gesture to be a covert government directive. I was angry and refused at first. But after a day or two, I decided to give it a whirl . . . here is my first entry:
“Friday, Jan 3, 2014
That’s how I feel. They try their best to make everything seem like a choice, like a preference. But when it comes down to it, I’m forced.
I’m forced to listen .. to the keywords .. the paraphrases. . . or physical actions and movement of people I meet.
I’ forced to read the scripted comments of my family and friends on Facebook.
I’m forced to read internet articles on books strategically placed in front of me in book stores.
Yes, it’s made to look and feel like it is my choice. But I realize now, if I ever had a choice, it is from a carefully preselected offering. . . selections only brought to me by “weirdness”
I am still angry about this. . . This Life that wasn’t what I thought it was . . .This Life that was never truthfully presented to be what was sold to me.
Yes, it’s true. I do love some of the people that have entered my life as a result of “weirdness” But there are others out there. I know I would love them! I know I would be so interested in them!!! But I will never reach them because the government/secret/society forced commune in which I live.
I hope one day, I can totally accept this.I hope one day, it doesn’t engulf every second, minute, hour, everything. .of my thoughts. Unfortunately though, I think as long as I am in the dark, “Weirdness” will continue to be a negative, sobering, and disturbing presence.
but!!!!! . . . . . Today is the first day of snow on the beach in Delaware. I can’t wait to see snow on the beach.