Here is an updated version of My Story of Survival (The World's Most Massive Bullying Incident)
The nightmare fueled disaster
Everything I write here is serious, not a joke.
I have always been an artist and a comic book writer. My life was normal until it was ruined by many people and organisations. I will talk about it in more detail here.
Before you read the rest I should give you a short explanation on autism, aspergers syndrome and pervasive personality disorder.
The autism spectrum is a wide spectrum of disabilities which are characterised by bad social skills and some developmental problems. Aspergers syndrome is a branch of autism which is characterised by bad social skills and problems with executive functioning. People with this disorder can sometimes be very good at cloaking their symptoms. Pervasive personality disorder is something that unlike normal aspergers, is not something you are born with but something that is aqcuired throughout one's lifetime, usually from confusing life events. I have aspergers syndrome and possibly a bit of pervasive personality disorder. As a girl I am usually good at cloaking the symptoms.
I was diagnosed with aspergers syndrome as a child; However I rejected it until much later.
I also believe I suffered from bad OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) at the time I was looking for a coat.
I was born in a hospital in Lithuania, to a Lithuanian mother and an Irish father, although I didn't spend much time there as we moved back to Ireland after a few months. I spent my early childhood in Rathfarnham where I made a few friends. That was where my younger brother was born. I used to sing a song about pylons, as there were pylons in the area around us. I would sing about pylons while on the swings in the park.
My parents wanted to move but we didn't have a place yet, so we first moved from Marley Avenue in Rathfarnham to a house in Blanchardstown, and then to an area in between Lusk and Swords.
I frequently went to the markets my dad went to. I was bold and was told off by a scary woman for chasing the chickens. I loved animals but was a bit careless at that age.
I frequently went to visit my grandparents in Lithuania. We went nearly every summer and they are some of my happiest memories.
I attended Cardough primary school. My friends and I came up with a motto that we would chant together, saying (insert name) is the best girl in the world! We'd chant each girl's name in turns and go around the playground saying that. Once a friend of mine told the teacher that she came up with a song for her work; Then I copied her and sang a song for whatever reason, probably because I thought it was funny, and I was put on timeout which confused me. This was the start of many confusing events.
At the time we had two pets, a cat that belonged to the house we were renting and a dog that we were minding for a friend of my parents. We also lived next to a family that owned horses and I was allowed to ride one with their daughter once.
After attending Curdough school for about a year I went into a new school called Swords Educate together. It didn't turn out to be the place I'd wanted it to be like but I loved it at first. The principal, Gerard, was very kind and so was the deputy principal Mary. I wrote the principal a letter once talking about how much I loved him.
I also met who was to become my best friend for many years. We went around the campus on the first day, talking to each other.
I moved with my family from there to Lusk which was to be my home from now on. At first we lived in a shaleigh as the house was still being built.
I had a good friend from Curdough school who lived right next to us. We got along just fine until one day, she hit me for a reason I can't remember and I hit her back. She ran off to her mother, who came back and told me to apologise. I refused and said she (the girl) needed to apologise to me first but she (the mother) wasn't having any of it, so I just walked off back to my house, and that was the end of our friendship.
One day something happened at school. There was a young boy, a black boy, jumping with his hands on Mary's back. Another boy from the school hit the boy right in front of me. Mary turned around and without assessing the situation grabbed me and started asking if I had hit the boy. She asked over and over and I said no, until I lied and said yes. She put me on timeout and I called the boy who had hit him stupid.
Then the president, Mary McAleese came to the school and I was selected along with the boy that was hit to greet her. She practically ignored me and only greeted the boy. I'm not sure if Mary and Gerard had been bullying me behind my back.
While living in that house I was also told to get off my own lawn by someone visiting my mother. I was also told on another occasion to get out of an estate that I was jumping around in after my mother parked there, by an ugly old woman.
Things got better. I made various friends, with both boys and girls. We played outside and on the bus. One time a boy came up to me and asked 'Can you take keys out of a gutter?' Jokingly I said 'Yes!' Then he took me to a gutter and I learned that he had actually dropped his keys down the gutter. I was determined to take the keys out and poked at them with a stick until I finally got them out. Everybody praised me and I felt very proud of myself.
Then our school moved from a football club to a Swords town council building, I think it was. We had lots of fun on the football field at yard time. On the bus home I hung out with my group of friends. I was very boisterous.
I drew a lot and made Pokemon and Digimon comics and shared them with my friends.
However my relationship with the school darkened when a new teacher came to the school. Her name was Bronagh and she was in charge of teaching our class. She shouted a whole lot and made my life miserable (along with the other pupils). I was very glad when that year was over. I noticed during that year that I had become quieter. Nearly a mute. Also, at the time Bronagh became my teacher, a whole lot of my friends moved out of the school. This also made me quieter. You could say I became a shell of my former self. These were tough times.
After a few slightly turbulent years in school I moved on to secondary school. I went to Mount Temple Comprehensive School, which I liked very much. I was extremely shy during the first two or so years and spent most of my time drawing. Even after I found my friend group I spent most of my time drawing. I was obsessed with art, namely anime art. I loved anime and I loved drawing.
At the time I was obsessed with Japan after reading a book about it and reading an article in a Digimon magazine. I wanted to go there all my life since that time and borrowed a Linguophone from the library to learn Japanese from. I didn't complete it then and my fluency in Japanese came at a later date.
I joined a friend group of what turned out to be a group full of social rejects. I joined them because a lot of them liked anime and manga, like me. I loved Japanese culture and would have hung out with Japanese people if there were any of them around. But there weren't, so I hung around with that friend group. We had good memories but looking back I regret not hanging out with more people and branching out to different groups, because I was just too shy. More diversity would have been great for a quiet girl.
I had a lot of good memories in school and with my friends, with some crazy and funny teachers.
My friends included girls whom I will call R and A. R was a very friendly girl that I looked up to and wanted to be more like. I admired her kindness. We both loved Japanese culture which was something we bonded over. A was good at art and I bonded with her over that. We were two good artists and were known for that.
I (and the whole friend group) drifted away from R as she started doing her own thing, and we also drifted away from a few other people in the group.
During my time in secondary school, I embarked on two projects. One was my manga, Area 9. It was about a high school boy who got kidnapped by a so-called terrorist in a dystopian future. It took me two years to complete. The second was my learning of the Japanese language. I used a method called AJATT (All Japanese All The Time) in which you emerse yourself in the Japanese language and avoid all English language input. It worked, but looking back I think it was incompatible with my lifestyle in Ireland and isolated me because I was very serious about it and took it quite literally.
When I entered University things took a turn for the worst. My house mates in first year were incredibly noisy and I couldn't get anything done. They were also rude. I fell into a deep depression after 1st year. My house mates in second year were bullies and the leader was probably a psychopath. They lied to me, gaslighted me and were aggressive. The effect they had on me was awful. I acted somewhat aggressively towards my friends in Japan because of it, even though I was usually nothing of the sort. I managed to get away from those housemates half way through the year and moved in with nice foreign students as house mates and I got along with a nice Korean woman especially.
But the depression from earlier lingered on and living in a gloomy room didn't help.
I finally went to Japan, after suffering from a lot of depression. I had saved up and waited my whole life to get there. Japan was a pretty place; I really liked it there. However when I arrived my suitcase went missing, which had all my things in it. I just narrowly managed to find my friend's (or aquaintance's) house and she helped me out. I nearly wanted to cry when I got there. I had nearly become lost in a new country without a phone connection. My friend had a very nice family and was very nice herself. She helped me get everything I needed and I popped in to work with her. We parted ways in Osaka station and I was ready to go to Kyoto. I preferred Osaka, but Kyoto was also a beautiful city.
But on the second month of my arrival to Japan I was verbally assaulted by an old Japanese man. He stood behind me in a store and muttered down my back 'Hurry, hurry up, you scum, scum of a human', over and over again. At the time I wasn't sure if this was really happening and I was too scared to retaliate. I was very shaken and went to the store giving the store owner a warning to give to the old man. But that didn't stop me from being petrified wherever I went.
Shortly after I was finally allowed to join the Yosakoi dance team, Londo, which I had been so crazy about joining. I was behind everyone else so they had to teach me how to dance. I was really really crazy about this type of dance and thought it was so fun.
There was one day called Pocky Day and I only realised it when I came to dance practice. I was given an inflated pocky stick and had fun having sword fights with it.
During my first ever performance, my team members wrapped the scarf I was wearing around my whole body, so that it would cover me and stop me from being cold. Then a bunch of girls from another dance team said while walking past me, so that I could hear it, 'What's that foreigner wearing, it's so lame!' to which I took great offense to.
While in the dance team I met a guy called Tony. He was very nice when I first met him and after being verbally assaulted by the old man, I was desperately in need of someone to make me feel protected. I wanted someone who could protect me from people like him. You might say I fell in love with him (Tony) but it was more like traumatic bonding, possibly.
I was desperately in need of help during the weeks after I joined the dance team. My urge to meet Tony again grew more and more as time went on. I was extremely lonely. Then I found out that he had a girlfriend which made things even worse. However I still wanted to be friends with him even if I couldn't go out with him. He seemed strong and tough which was just what I wanted in a friend. I started texting him on the messaging app LINE but we got into a quarrel. I got annoyed that he seemed to be avoiding me and confessed that I had feelings for him. This was not an advancement, I just wanted him to know. Our relationship became sour from then on.
There was a guy in my dance team called Kuroda who I got along with, though he had a girlfriend (whom I also wanted to get along with) so our relationship was a bit strained. I identified as a tomboy back then and I wanted male friends, as I felt I could get along with them better. However it seemed like they might have been portraying me as a slut behind my back. Kuroda was my crush that year which complicated our relationship since I liked him a whole lot but knew I couldn't be with him (but thought we could still work out as friends. Silly me)
I messaged Kuroda one day and asked whether it's better to bow down to other people and try to fit in or boldly stand out. He answered with the latter. That day I also bought a coat. I was going to go with the black one but at the last moment I decided to go with the edgier brown coat. I deeply regretted it later on.
I had gotten along with Kuroda a bit before but our relationship took a different turn when I had sent him a cryptic message out of desperation because I had been hurting so much. I had been verbally assaulted by an old man and my living conditions were bad. That message changed our relationship. Kuroda probably knew something was up before but now he was avoiding me and acted cautious around me.
What really messed up my life in Japan was when I went searching for a new coat. It (the coat) gave me unwanted attention such as the time when people on campus were pointing out 'Oh, look at that formal coat'! and later when I was sitting alone on campus someone said 'Foreigner. Foreigner. Foreigner'. As well as that people in my dance team were pointing out at my coat. This made me feel really uncomfortable. I thought there was something wrong with my coat.
So I went around the shopping centres looking for a new one. I didn't want to buy an expensive one since I had already bought a coat this year making me very flustered. I didn't want it to be expensive, and it had to fit my frame since a lot of the coats were too small because they were made for Japanese frames. I wanted something that was reasonably fashionable as well because I wanted to be liked by my friends in the dance team. For all these reasons it took me a very long time to find a coat. I was also afraid of being verbally assaulted or harassed again and this is what really made me so nervous about getting a new coat. I was terrified of what might happen if I didn't pick the right coat this time.
I was afraid of hanging out with my friends in college because of my coat. I was too damn vulnerable at the time.
I didn't even bother with much sightseeing becauase thought I had the rest of my life to do it and I had an embarrassing coat to wear at this moment.
The Nightmare Fuelled Disaster
I finally found a new coat that was cheap and didn't stand out too much (because I was afraid of standing out). It fit perfectly and was a nice black colour. It was the perfect coat for me at the time. However on the day I got my new coat and was ready to finally start living life, people on the streets started calling me names. I also noticed people taking photos of me.
This was when I realised I had aspergers syndrome. That completely explained the repetitiveness of what I was doing. But it was too late now.
I had so much I wanted to do and so many friends I wanted to make during my year in Japan, but it was all ruined by the people that took photos of me and the news people that put me on TV.
My life spiralled out of control from that day onward.
They used the animal terms for male and female when trying to figure out my gender.
Wherever I went people would call me ugly.
I went to escape to an aquaintance's house in Osaka (the same person I stayed with at the start of my trip). As I was walking to the train station people were talking about me from all around, and when I arrived at the train tracks one man pushed me as he was walking past me and a disgusting man rubbed his belly and licked his lips when he saw that I was a woman.
I went on the train and people all around me were looking at me and saying 'busu' (ugly). I remember them all staring at me and smiling (and not in a friendly way)
From then on the city was full of the sound of sirens. I was terrified of what was happening around me. It was like a nightmare come true.
They called me a name that translated to uncivilised, barbarian etc. and I would hear that wherever I went, among other things. This was a very offensive term.
Once on the train to dance practice, I was messaging Kuroda while an evil high school girl looked down at me and told her mother I was taking pictures of her skirt and sending it off to someone. She looked down at me like I was shit and said that I'll probably just say I was playing video games.
I learned later that a girl (the same or a different girl, I don't know) wrote a book about me groping her. I hope she's received a suitable punishment for spreading lies.
I went to a winter trip (snowboarding) with my dance team. I was still shaken up from what had happened before. Someone asked me if I had had sex with anyone in the dance team and I joked that I had sex with Yuichi. This was a complete joke and was not to be taken seriously. I thought it was obvious that I didn't actually have sex with him. Also my mind went a bit bonkers after what had happened shortly before the winter trip. I was not in a sane state of mind in the weeks following what had happened. Anyway, in case it can't be made any clearer, me having sex with Yuichi was a complete joke.
After my next festival I was thinking of going home to Ireland and taking refuge there. I thought this might be my last festival.
Back in the dance team, we were preparing for the next festival. It was called Hamayosa. At the festival people were bullying me from all sides. People in the town were whispering at me and making me feel like a monster. The people from the other dance teams were making fun of my dancing and also insulting me. It was too much for one day and by the end of the day I was mortified.
After the performances boys in the hotel were playing pranks on me by ringing my hotel doorbell and I chased them around. For that split moment it seemed like everything was back to normal.
I had wanted to make up with Tony after what had happened and got to talk a little with him during the festival but it still didn't really feel like we had made up. I still felt the bitterness from before. Maybe we couldn't be friends again.
That night Jukujo and Shigenyan of the dance team came to visit me and gave me alcohol with some other food. I'm not sure if there was something contained in it that was meant to knock me out or if it was just normal alcohol.
Later, while in agony I sent a text to Kuroda saying let's talk lots, meaning let's talk lots when I'm gone because it hurt so much that I wouldn't be able to see him again as I really liked him and looked up to him. I guess he took this to mean something else because at 3am in the night, while in the shower I got a knock on the door. I took this as another prank and didn't answer the door at first but then got curious and opened the door and there was nobody there. I was devastated. I could have missed my last chance at meeting him. In desperation I did something stupid and texted on to the team's LINE group, who had been ringing my doorbell? I went to sleep and had a dream about kissing Kuroda (or trying to anyway). I don't know if this was a dream or not, though I was pretty certain that it was a dream.
The next day everyone in my dance team was calling me ugly. People were still bullying me and I felt horrible.
The next day, Kuroda wrote on the LINE group to write your opinions on how the festival went. He said come to the plaza at 3 o clock, but didn't write whether it was at am or pm. I remembered that the doorbell rang at 3am at Hamayosa and believed this was some kind of subliminal message to meet up at 3am. I wanted to go the first time but missed the university's closing time. I thought he wanted to talk to me and protect me from danger but I wasn't sure exactly what he wanted. Meeting up in secret at night seemed a bit suspicious and I didn't want to get in the way of his relationship with his girlfriend as I thought by now that we had probably gotten too close. I was reluctant to go but finally started going. I never met him.
I did write a letter though, in which I said I wanted to kiss him (this was only something I wanted to do after my doorbell was rung) but never got to, and that I wanted to make up with Tony but couldn't. I was really dispirited at this time.
At first I was scared for the safety of other people so I avoided contact with many people. I regret this now. In tough times one must find others to stick together with. I was also thinking about running away into hiding so I stayed hidden for a lot of the time, the opposite of what I probably should have been doing.
The dance team introduced us to our new performance. It was about the Kinkakuji (a golden building in Japan). Just as it was about to be finished, it was destroyed and had to be rebuilt. This song was thought to be especially for me; It meant that I was special/perfect and was going to come back to Japan. However due to what was going on around me and what I was planning (but largely because I just couldn't go outside even though I wanted to), I wasn't able to succeed in going outside and getting things done. I may never be able to go to that place (Japan) again.
Despite the theme of the song, nobody seemed too keen on helping me. Maybe if I had gotten help, things would have turned out differently. It might have been due to that evil girl that went around claiming that she was groped by me.
When I went back to college, people were bullying me from all sides. They would talk loudly about me wherever I went and say horrible things, like that there's nothing in my head and I'm scum of a human, etc. etc.. It was very hard to go to class and I ended up missing a lot of my classes. The kind of vitrol that people used against me was to affect me in the future and influence me in bad ways.
Every day, for nearly a year, the same old thing happened. I would be called names by the people I passed on the street, constantly. This would happen many times each time I went out, in Japan and later in Ireland too. I was stuck in my room all year long because there were people verbally abusing me on the streets, all year long. I could only go out for the basics. People wouldn't even try to be discreet around me, they would insult me openly and seemed to find it funny that I couldn't respond because there were so many of them.
I snapped at Kuroda a little bit due to all the abuse I was reveiving, which I regret.
Our next festival was Kakogawa. On the train to Kakogawa people were calling me ugly and there was one woman who stood in front of me and talked about how ugly I was, right in front of my face. She had a husband and children though, so I didn't want to do anything to her like take pictures of her.
At the end of Kakogawa my head hurt from all the abuse I was getting from my team mates, other teams and civilians, and I took the wrong train. I ended up in a train station in the middle of nowhere and it was pitch black outside. I stood by the wall and there were people from outside the train station talking about me in hoarse, frightening voices. I felt like I was going to die that night.
I sent a message to Kuroda saying if I don't show up tomorrow I might be dead. I somehow managed to get home safely but the next morning I started hyperventilating. I was afraid of going outside and getting more abuse on that horrific journey. I texted Kuroda that going on the train was like torture, but I won't die.
Eventually I mustered up the courage to go, thinking that I might still get the chance to perform in one of the later performances. When I arrived another team member gave out to me and Kuroda came to me with a very grave face, and I started crying. The noises all around me sounded like 'busu' (ugly). It was surreal.
In college, I met many new people. I had wanted to hang out with the people from my dance team but at first, I was afraid to be seen in that coat so avoided contact. Then, it was too late, the bullying had started and I was afraid to hang out with them. Instead I usually hung around in the commons room for foreigners. I met many people there, including Japanese that were part of the foreign studies department, and we chatted about Japanese culture, other cultures and various other things. I had no true friends (I was nearly, could you say, afraid of getting too close to anyone) but I had several people that I talked with a few times and got along with.
The abuse continued and I was so traumatised that at one point it even hurt to draw.
On my way back home I visited South Korea and Vietnam, which were very enjoyable despite the continuation of the abuse that was thrown at me.
On my kindle I downloaded Adolf Hitler's 'Mein Kampf' and Anne Frank's 'Diary of a Young Girl' to learn more about history, because it looked like history was repeating itself (Japan's prime minister has plans to intorduce Mein Kampf into schools, which I found very frightening, and the people of Japan and the countries that were to follow showed discriminatory behavior that remind me a bit of Hitler or Donald Trump, while Anne Frank's situation mildly reminded me of my own situation). I haven't read much of either though.
If Japan wasn't bad enough, things continued on in Ireland. Even after I had arrived in Ireland, I was abused wherever I went. I retaliated a few times but overall I did quite a good job at ignoring them, although this limited my activities exceedingly and I had a lot of trouble going to class back in college. The walk from my house to college was long and I had a lot to go through. They would call me all sorts of names. But even worse were the builders outside my house. They talked and abused me all day long and made it considerably hard for me to concentrate. Those builders were evil. There were also people that would stand outside my house and talk nothing but bad things about me. I had to deal with this constantly. I think the builders were responsible for giving me quiet voices in my head.
It was then that the slut-shaming started. In Ireland, I'd hear it as I went outside, I even heard it once from a so-called member of UCC's feminist society. All because I fell in love with a guy.
I was in so much need of help and in so much pain. I desperately needed help but couldn't think of where to go. There was nothing I could do.
I fantasized about all the different futures I could have. I fantasized about travelling, working as an artist like I had always wanted to, and even taking over the world. I wrote about the futures I could have. I wrote about living in the countryside, maybe starting a family, and becoming a freelance artist. The bullying was so bad that I wrote potential ways to get out of it. On one piece of paper I wrote about taking over the world out of desperation for my dire situation. I snapped at a world that I wanted to do good for but was bullying me to death for no reason. I also considered making this into a story. But I couldn't settle with that as I hated it so much, so then I wrote about how I would still be able to follow my dream of being an artist. Being an artist was the only thing I really wanted to do but I thought it would be impossible now that this was happening.
Then, one day, my life was ruined by my horrible landlord named Noreen. By this time I had completely forgotten about the ruling the world idea. There was a storm, and I had gone home for the weekend. I had left my windows open and asked her to close them but then thought there's no point in bothering her because the storm had passed, so I told her not to bother. Then, from what I heard, Noreen said I must have been hiding something so she went snooping around my room and found the piece of paper and started telling everyone that I wanted to take over the world, even though by then I had completely scrapped the idea. Noreen ruined my life for no good reason. She might have told people that I wanted to rule the world with my art, though this might have been another person. Purging the population wasn't even something I was too keen on. I just wrote it in nearly as an extra, to rid the world of the bad guys.
Later on people found my DeviantART account where all my artwork was posted. Some guy in my University said in a very condescending voice 'All she draws are sexy ladies!' which confused me a lot as I didn't really draw sexy ladies a whole lot. They were saying nothing but vitrol and talking in horrible voices.
Then I was taken to the hospital and I was mind raped by a few men who were emulating the Japanese and talking loudly about me like I wasn't there. I was confused into writing a bunch of things that weren't true.
After that incident was Christmas, though it was a quiet Christmas. After Christmas was the New Year. I developed something similar to resignation syndrome (a condition that especially effects refugees in which the patient is overwhelmed and loses all hope, and lies down and can't get up) for a few days, and eventually I got back to pursuing my hobby, art. I also attended the day hospital in my local clinic. (My mother had me diagnosed with psychosis as an explanation for the voices I was hearing) The day clinic was very relaxed and uplifting and I met nice people there. We had different activities each days and on Fridays we had outings. After the day hospital I went on to drawing art. My situation was dire and there were people verbally assaulting me wherever I went. I could rarely go outside because of it.
After I finished completely at the day hospital I was left to my own devices and decided to pursue my dream of drawing art. I tried treating it as a 9 to 5 job and worked hard at it. I was at a loss at what to do and felt like dying. However I wasn't ready to die and didn't want to give the bullies what they wanted at the cost of my own life. I also didn't want to upset my friends and family by dying. I had a last resort though; I could live in the countryside or some place remote and work from there until the day I died. That way I could avoid being harassed. I worked hard on art to realise my dream.
One day the people around my house started shouting that I was a paedophile. They were screaming and hollering off all day and all night for days on end about me being a paedophile. This instilled in me a great sense of alarm. I couldn't even sleep due to all the hollering. The shouting at night might possibly have been in my head but it sounded real to me.
Some evil person came up with the notion that I drew Pokemon to lure children. I cannot stress what a dastardly thing this was to say. Now Pokemon is ruined for me and the other people on this planet.
Then a man went driving around shouting to everyone that his daughter was raped by me.
This is the story of some of the most evil people in history.
There was a complete scumbag of a girl and her father that made up a false story about me raping the daughter. According to the girl I came into Lusk and raped her (I don't know the details of the story). There were people hollering off and giving me rape threats. In the Balbriggan Clinic some patient said her name was Haley, probably trying to trick me into getting into a fight with Eminem.
A scumbag little boy spread around a rumour that I drew a little girl popping a guy's cherry. I don't know who he is which is good for him because he's probably going to get a good beating if it's ever found out who he is.
At night, I have possibly been interfered with by some organisation or person. They raped me, beat me around the head and gave me brain damage, on multiple occasions. I was possibly even impregnated by one of them. I was not conscious for any of these though so it could have been something completely made up, something that never happened.
What I do know is that some organisation (possibly the government) has been broadcasting footage of me to the world.
In July I was transferred to a hospital ward in which I would live temporarily. I shared the space with other patients and it was very easygoing.
Unfortunately whatever organisation has been broadcasting my thoughts has ruined my brain. Now, since the summer of 2018, my brain keeps saying the most inappropriate things it can think of, because I know I'm being watched. My mind is ruined.
One evening in the hospital a woman came into the hospital ward and lay down on the floor. I asked her what she was doing and I said gently that she can't be here. I lifted her up and guided her towards the door, saying 'careful now' in a gentle voice. Apparently the footage of me lifting her out was blanked out and the footage of me saying 'careful now' was edited to being aggressive. Something similar happened a few times over the course of my stay.
One day in the day hospital I was sitting down thinking about nothing when the organisation that's broadcasting my thoughts said something like 'I've always wanted to be a prostitute', and on another time 'I hate all women's even though I've never wished anything like that. They also changed what I wrote once ('Someone said I identify as a rat') to 'I identify as a rat' even though I never have identified as a rat.
I have stalkers that have been playing mind games with me. They would shout at me from far away and trick me into thinking the government has been editing what I say. They tricked me into thinking the government made me say 'All humans are scumbags' to which I disagreed to, and they said that I had said the opposite. I don't know if someone is actually editing my thoughts or if it's just those people playing tricks on me. I think somebody actually is editing my thoughts though.
I think some organisation might also be putting thoughts into my head because I've been muttering things in my head that I would never usually think. Having my thoughts be broadcast ruined my mind.
One day after coming out of the hospital some bitchy woman called me 'scum man'. The fact that she called me 'scum' was stupid but calling me 'man' was even more retarded.
After the government's so-called threats to put me into a torture chamber for drawing (yes, drawing) I was in a rush to make a Tinder account before they said something about that too. But I didn't know how Tinder worked and I thought swiping both right and left meant dismissing a person, so I swiped a lot of people away. Apparently some people have the audacity to slut-shame me for that. This kind of behaviour is pathetic.
There have been some lunatics going around calling me a whore but I can tell you that I am nothing but a survivor. I have always been very picky romantically and if I were to have a boyfriend, it would probably be after a lot of choosing. I certainly have no interest in having sex with people that I'm not dating and I take dating very seriously. If I were to end up with somebody, it would probably be with marriage in mind although I have never been in a real relationship personally. I have never had consensual sex in my life, or any sex at all, as far as I can remember. So calling someone like me a whore is really stupid on your part.
Also how does being disabled, unwell and vulnerable make you a psychopath? That's fucked up. I can't believe there's anyone with such an insidiuous mindset.
I've also been labelled a war criminal by some people but let me tell you what I really am. What the Japanese did to me was like a war crime, except there wasn't even a war. They picked on an innocent young woman who was just trying to get a new coat. They actually went to war with me, a 21 year old that was just looking for a new coat to replace the ugly one that I didn't want to be seen in. I was barely an adult. I barely did anything to anyone. The only 'bad' things I've done were standing up to bullies a few times. I had no bad intentions. What the Japanese (and some Irish) put me through was torture and a war crime. I am a war survivor, against the war that the Japanese waged on me. I wonder if they will be able to admit to this, like they act so clueless about the Rape of Nanking and the Comfort Women. I probably had body dysmorphia when they made me viral, and it got worse after randomers kept talking about my appearance and calling me ugly.
Let me also make it clear that that brown coat does NOT represent me in any way. I avoided contact with anyone while wearing that coat. I was ashamed of that coat. I was trying to hide that coat. People were being peeping toms.
The government has been creating a conspiracy that I was planning to rule the world all my life. I cannot emphasize what an evil thing to do this was. If I'd wanted to take over the world there'd be proof. They might hack into my memories at some point and try to change them but hopefully not.
Let me be clear that I had no interest in ruling the world. I was simply trying to get away from the abuse I was receiving. Considering everything I'd been through, even saying that I want to rule the world is a horrible thing to say (and I'm surprised you're not hailing me as a hero for the great thing I could have done for the world. Me as a ruler? That would have been perfect! And people can write whatever they want, deal with it. There's nothing wrong with just writing about yourself taking over the world)
This is the worst bullying incident ever and I am appalled and ashamed to lump myself in with the people that are doing this.
I would also avoid basing me on how the dance team and the Japanese treated me because they completely sexualized me.
Also I've heard that people have died because of me but as far as I'm aware that was because of Donald Trump, who got elected a few months before this incident started. If not I would put more blame on the people that made me famous for all the wrong reasons, not myself. I haven't caused much deliberate harm to anyone.
When writing a letter to the Dail I wrote 'false utterances' eg. I hate all women, I want to be a prostitute etc. and the organisation editing my message changed it to 'true utterances'. This happens a lot of the time, when they edit what I'm thinking to say the opposite. So, for example, if I thought to myself 'I want to go' they'd change it to 'I don't want to go', and if I thought 'I don't want to have sex with anybody' they would change it to 'I do want to have sex with everybody', the complete opposite of what I was thinking.
At the cinema my mom said about the movie posters that they had funny faces and I agreed, but the people behind us seemed to think she was talking about them. She wasn't, she was talking about the movie posters.
Tomboys are not sluts. They hang around with guys for the company, not sex. I don't know how much more obvious this has to be. People who don't know how to use Tinder aren't sluts either, dear God. As are people that show an interest in knowing about sex, or people that get confused over a misunderstanding. You don't even have to be a liberal to not call me a whore. Don't be a male chauvinist, we have enough of these around the place as it is and we don't need more. This isn't even being old-fashioned, it's pure sexism. It's disgusting.
You also don't just go around calling people sexual or even social predators just because they have asergers syndrome or for other invalid reasons. That honestly makes you look like a bit of a dickhead.
I also didn't want to have sex with Tony, I wanted to make up with him. I really don't know how much more obvious this has to be, if there are people that are honestly saying this...
Somebody said I want to use my art to take over the world. This was such an insidious and evil thing to say. Art has nothing to do with taking over the world.
I can't express enough how much I don't want to take over the world if it can be helped. I hated the idea of ruling the world and would gladly have taken another job if it was possible. I just want everything to return back to normal. I want to be able to walk on the streets again without getting harassed (in a purely negative way). That has been my biggest wish. Now I also wish people would stop spreading fake rumours about me. If this is what it takes to stand up for yourself, you know there's something wrong. You made me write that. This is your problem as much as it is mine.
Maybe I need to remind you that somebody had been editing my thoughts to mean the opposite of what I actually thought and is broadcasting them to the world. As well as that the effect of broadcasting of my thoughts has made my thoughts much worse. If you wanted me to be a bitch and a whore, I hope you're happy now. My thoughts are polluted and I can't return to the way I used to think before my thoughts started getting broadcast to the whole world. I'm hearing horrible things. This is also affecting numerous other innocent people.
There would be much debate over who is responsible for what happened in Japan. Some might say I am responsible, others might say it was the Japanese. I think it is a bit of both.
I am responsible for doing something so stupid as taking so long to find a new coat. But they are responsible for their absolutely inappropriate response; Taking footage of me, a person ill and vulnerable and in need of help, and broadcasting that to the world. It was completely irresponsible. I was very unwell, in a very vulnerable situation and they decided to pick on me.
There are so many simple things that I cannot do when my every thought and even my very private life is being broadcasted to the whole world.
I personally did not harm anyone. The Japanese were fighting amongst themselves, without ever asking me a thing. Surely things could have been resolved better if they had just asked me what they wanted to know.
I could have reacted better; Instead of just hiding from the abuse I could have put up a sign with an internet link to a blog of some sort, talking about the situation. Maybe no one would have read it but it would have been worth a try. However it was hard to imagine how I could've reacted given the way they were treating me from the get-go. (Absolutely terrifyingly, I was terrified)
In the end I think this was a big mess with responsibility coming from both sides, but in the end they were the perpetrators and I was the victim, they took away my life and I think they should take responsibility for it. If something bad happens to you as a society, you completely deserve it. That's what you get for taking somebody's life away from them.
As for why I'm publishing this, I don't have a firm goal other than I want the truth to be known. The Japanese might cover this up like they have covered up their other war crimes but I just want to let you know that this happened. I don't know if reconciliation will ever be possible.
Tdlr; The Japanese bullied me near to death. They took pictures of me when I was sick and disabled and probably suffered from body dysmorphia, and bullied me so much that I couldn't go outside, and these same circumstances continued into Ireland. I don't know if we could ever reconsile, for despite still liking the idea of Japan, I am aware of its harsh reality and what it did to me. The government or some other organisation is also maliciously editing what I think to make it seem like I'm saying the opposite.
Now people are still creating a fake persona of me to bully and it's disgusting behaviour. They seem to be knowingly creating conspiracies around what really happened. You will probably go down as the worst generation in history.
I urge you to copy this post to some place safe in case of deletion.