My Fault? Or, Was I, Blamed, By Default?

Since Adam blamed Eve for his own sin, in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3:6-13), when God confronted them both about their sin, the name of the game has been blame. However, to muddy the waters even more, on the issue of who is actually at fault, there are also some assertions that are bandied about as truisms, which clearly state otherwise, such as: "People blame their  environment. There is only one person to blame — and only one — themselves." - Robert Collier; "No one is  to blame. It is neither their fault nor ours. It's the misfortune of being born when  a whole world is dying." - Alexander Herzen; "No one is a failure until they blame somebody else." - Charles Jones "Take  your  life  in  your  own  hands  and what happens? A terrible thing: no one is to blame." - Erica Jong, and so on. It is very easy to blame others; but don't those people who come through our lives, in any way, whether, they are, tiptoeing, traipsing, or trampling, bear the responsibility, for what they said or did that had an impact and an effect on us for good or bad? As someone who has spent my lifetime bearing the brunt, and paying high prices for, being made the scapegoat and a villain, after I have been being victimized by others, I'm more than tired, of people putting their sin and guilt off onto me. It is theirs! I have my own flaws, and failings, to deal with, and take responsibility for. Penalizing me for their shortcomings and sins too, is both unfair and unrighteous.

Alli summed it up well in a recent Tweet and gave me permission to share it here:

Alli R @alli_redmond · 3h

I get really tired of people holding me responsible for the situation when I’m not the one who abused someone or covered-up that abuse. 

I’m tired of the gaslighting - The fact that I’ve been made out to be the problem, when I didn’t create the problem.

  

There are people who say that we actually create a contract with God, before our incarnation, into this world, and that it may include our choosing our own gender, race, family, etc., for some 'higher purpose', or 'higher good', to be accomplished through our grappling with life, on those terms, all the days, of our existence, on Earth. If such a thing is true, then it may well be said, that we are actually much more responsible, and therefore, much more to blame, for how this life turns out for us, than anyone else involved. However, even if we assisted our very Creator, in such a way, to preprogram us for all those attributes (or liabilities, as the case may be) I have never heard anyone say that, we also have some say in who and what all the other people are, who will ever touch, and affect, our lives for better or for worse. There is an expression that we 'make our mark' in this world which acknowledges that we each have an impact on those around us. Whether, that is simply from us smiling at a stranger as we pass them on the sidewalk, or we are neglecting to tell those that we love what we feel, for them, there are rarely any human interactions that are neutral in their effect on each of us. We humans are alot like 'relational thermometers', continually registering in our emotions in real time whether someone we interact with or choose not to, or someone interacting with us or choosing not to, is causing or contributing to a perception we have, of warmth or welcome, or is instead distancing or even destructive. I firmly believe there is a mutual responsibility for any interaction between people. But, if one or more involved chooses to turn toxic toward the other(s), in some way, it's all but impossible to come away from it unscathed. Harm, has been done. Damage, has been inflicted. When those, who wrong others, refuse to acknowledge it, insult is added to the injury that was caused by this injustice. Scripture says we each are to "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Mark 12:31). The intent of this is to prevent these wrongs altogether. So many days in so many ways humans fail to sincerely put this into practice. The result is a world of hurt, that is full of victims; and lots of people are more than willing to blame these victims to deflect the blame away from themselves; because they have an agenda of some sort such as to discredit  a victim, so they won't be believed; or they are onlookers or outsiders, that have some sort of bias toward the, actual, perpetrator, causing them to take their side. 

They would love to convince others, and even us, as their victims, that it's all our fault. Biblically speaking, a scapegoat* is to bear the burdens of others' sins cast upon them. This indoctrination affects the course of our life and our relationships especially if, or when, we become so beaten down from this continual disavowing we get from others, who refuse to acknowledge or accept the truth, that, despite our knowing better, somewhere deep inside we begin to believe that, we actually do deserve this treatment, somehow, even though neither us or the others doing their best to make us feel this way, can ever come up with any real reason for it. Even society itself can treat us in ways that reinforce that it is our 'deserved' lot, making it difficult, if not impossible, to be successful, or achieve our goals in life. 

This, is one of my pet peeves. That, people try to insinuate, or instigate, such an outrageous injustice in order to deflect, their own, responsibility, in the matter, if they were involved; or if they're a bystander in some sense, they merely absolve their preferred person in some sort of dysfunctional, and dishonest, 'loyalty test'.

On Pinterest ("Deborah Gayle Robinson"), I have a Board, titled, "I Call Bullshit!" The Pins are all supposedly sage sayings, I come across, that I disagree with the premise of, that is put forth, so I Pin them to this Board. Here are three of them:

 

I was, completely, shattered, as a human being, by my last husband, who was a narcissist. They get into the lives of their victims by telling us what we need and want to hear. The fact that they can hide how evil they are, so successfully, until they 'have' us, and then, slowly reveal how destructive they are, shows just how insidious this abuse is. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally decimated, by this monster that I was married to. I had loved him. I was harmed by him. I was not responsible for the terror that I came to feel because of this man. His actions caused those feelings in me. I could, and do still, definitely blame him for what I have felt about being treated so horribly. Our reactions, are not always a choice.  Referencing the two Pins, that follow, I also can't think of one single time, in my life, that I gave someone permission to hurt me in the ways that they did! And I didn't have a family whether growing up or when married that I experienced the joy of, really, feeling loved, in return. The "no matter what" from the second Pin, below, refers to an unconditional love. Besides God, and my cockatiel, CeeBee, I never ever experienced unconditional love. Only tentative and transactional love.           

   

I have not found, any of the three statements, to be the case in my life. In fact, I was blamed by family members who were loyal to them, when the men in my life took advantage of me, used me, or abused me, and then things did not work out, between us. Each, of those men, were supported, comforted, accepted and loved, by their families, while I was blamed, and shamed, as the scapegoat, by my own.

I find it hard to imagine, that I would have, ever, chosen the hurtful family I grew up in, for any reason, at all, including, a noble one, were that conjecture, about a contract, with God, found to be true. I believe that for His own reasons, He made me to be, a white female, and placed me in the family I was born into, as well as making me an American citizen. He knows all the days of our lives, before we are even born, the Bible says, in Psalm 139:16, because of His omniscience. Life, has sometimes left me feeling like His placing me on this planet was not a very "good idea", based on outcomes, but I am nevertheless, a "God idea"! I take comfort in the fact that God is a God of truth; and even though it makes my life alot harder,  I believe that the truth is so important in my relationships. Especially, in the long run. Regardless of where it ends up, with these relationships, I always appreciate knowing exactly where I stand with someone. It is the wondering, that wears me down. That, never being sure, if they are, being slick, or, being straight, with me.

   

Because, I am honest, I am a threat, in the eyes of, family members, and some others, simply because, I say what is true, however unpleasant, or, unpalatable, that may be, to them; and, they don't want to address that, or deal with that, if they can possibly avoid it. This, is one of the biggest reasons, that I become the scapegoat. Since they can't alter what is, actually, the truth they want to simply shut me up, about it, so, I don't speak the truth; and, when, they can't, do that, they do their best to discredit me, to anyone who will listen and believe the crap they say, about me, in order to, try to, prevent the real truth from, ever, coming out, taking hold, and making them accountable, and possibly ashamed, for their own misdeeds. Jesus was crucified, for His truth-telling. Being honest makes me  'a real and present danger' to those who have dark secrets, and sins, to hide; so running me off, by mistreatment, leaves these people without my presence, and truth telling, to do their dirty deeds with hands that are not clean but have been whitewashed, as they count on no one being the wiser. Unfortunately for victims  of these people, that is, most often, exactly, how it all plays out. It has been the story of my life, and has dispossessed me of plenty which has driven me to pure despair, despondency, and at times, depression. So many people behave as if no Judgment Day is coming. Since, I have to stand before my Maker, and Judge, on that day, and He already knows everything, I see no reason, not to be honest, in my dealings here on Earth. I am who and what I am. So many people hate truth. "No blame should attach to telling the truth. But it does, it does."-Anita Brookner. 

  

I grew up in a dysfunctional home, which led to both, dysfunctional relationships, and dysfunctional career paths. Robbed of my own voice when I was a child, I've alternated, much of the time, as an adult, between, being silent and seething, or outspoken in a righteously resentful way, as I struggle, to (learn how to) find my own voice, speak up, in my own defense, when it is warranted, and establish my boundaries with people, along better lines. It was, and still is, a mighty struggle, for me! Not only did my identity, and confidence, not get established early on, in my life, but while trying to develop, these things, later, I am also having to swim against the strong currents of all the negative messaging buried inside my mind, especially from my narcissistic mother, but also from my emotionally aloof father that almost always only interacted with me to be stern or punitive, and the toxic dynamics, throughout, my family of origin, which came with, my being made the family scapegoat, AKA the black sheep of the family. All of this has made my life so much harder, for me, than anyone, who has never been through it, could ever possibly understand. Emotionally, it feels like I am trying to trudge forward, with all of my strength, while walking in a mud pit that is up to my waist. It is difficult and exhausting, to say the least. >sigh< I have had to live my life without a real support system, as far as families go. I also wasn't taught skills that I needed, to have successful relationships with others, because such things were not modeled in my home life for the most part when I was growing up. 'Family' never felt safe. 

I didn't even realize until I began dredging up, and processing, my thoughts and emotions over things from my past, in order to write my post for this blog, there were some powerful things, inside me, that were causing me to decide to do the things that I did. Only, in writing about my life, here, did I begin to really realize some, of the reasons, behind my poor choices, at times. For example, I divorced my son's father because he really gave me no choice, or love, or encouragement to do otherwise, with us; and I believe, to this day, that it was the only, possible, decision I could have made. But when I wrote several long blog posts, about the relationship with him, things came into clearer focus, for me, and I realized, that,  I never should have agreed, to marry him, at all, when, I found myself pregnant, with our son, Jay. I remember feeling very torn, about that decision, at the time.

I told myself, it was the best thing to do, for our baby, and I did deeply love Jim. But, it never could have worked, with Jim and I. I truly think I would have never wanted the lifestyle that he wanted, for himself. Or, to live with the ambitions he had, with the emphasis he placed on prestige, power and achievement, meant to gain him worldly approval, admiration and likely adoration. My personal priorities and my deepest desires had been much more, inward-focused, on the quality, of the personal relationship itself, and my longing to share a deep, loving bond. We were just not focused on the same things, at all. I think back, to our dating days, now, and see that we were never really compatible in our visions for the future. I was gloriously happy, most of the time, while, we were, alone, together, when we were dating, and living together, while both stationed at Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi, Mississippi. But, he used that time, of accessing all of my affection for him to recharge his 'social butterfly' battery, to, let off steam, in order to better focus on his, real, goals, which all existed outside, of 'us'; out in the whole, wide, world and among the throngs of other people on the planet. Conquering me, was just a hobby. A diversion for him. Something (and, in my case, someone) that he did in his spare time, to use up excess energy, that, he couldn't use all of, in his pursuit of popularity. His channeling such drive, made him great in bed. But, not great to fall in love with, or be married to. I was so in love with him, that I could not, or I chose not, to see, at the time, that we could never have worked out, as a couple.

I had wanted to believe in the Disney 'Happily Ever After' ending, back then, but,  it wasn't that, with us. I had still, naively, thought, that love would conquer all. I did love him beyond a doubt; more than any human being I've ever loved. But it was one-sided. What he wanted was an extension of himself ambitions and all; a worthy representative, of himself, that could, also, charm his associates and help boost him up the Ladder Of Success that he was so driven to climb to its heights.  I was not that girl. I would never have been able to be that girl. It was not who I was. Then, or now. Jim considered me to be, a hindrance. His goals, left me cold. Clearly, I knew who I was, and what I needed, somewhere deep inside me, but I never could have put that into words to say to him, back then. I didn't know how to consciously get in touch with my own voice, and goals, and desires until years later. Now that I have become my own advocate, I won't stop speaking my mind. This strength of 'self' has led to, my deciding, that men, and marriage, are, most definitely, NOT for ME, and I have been living much more happily being single for decades now than any fleeting, fickle happiness I found in romantic relationships.

I see it, clearly, now, and yet there is a part of me that will love him forever! The only man I feel that way about. That, partly, explains, why I made 'bottom of the barrel' marital choices, when I got married after that. Deep down, I knew I could never replace him, or love anyone else, the way that I loved him. But, I also had the disapproval of his parents, coming against me. They treated me like I wasn't good enough for him; and when we got married because I turned up pregnant, I feel that both them and Jim felt that I did that to trap him, when I didn't at all. I never wanted to have kids because I was too afraid of my upbringing channeling through me and damaging an innocent child the way that I was damaged when I went through it. I also told Jim that I was no longer on birth control, because we had been apart for a good while before this happened and I didn't sleep with any one else, during all that time, because, I was totally in love with him. He said he would pull out but apparently he didn't. When he and my mother both told me to get an abortion, I didn't, because this was OUR child, and I believed God allowed this to happen for a reason. Of course, I was blamed, for ALL of this, by Jim AND HIS family, and MY family, although, HE, obviously, had a hand in this (or, rather, another, body part, of his, involved). Because of my years of indoctrination, from my own family, that asserted there is a reason, that I DESERVE to be treated like  I am the PROBLEM or the INSTIGATOR (even of things that I had NOTHING to do with!), I took on the SMELL OF GUILT, whether something was actually MY FAULT OR NOT; and MOST of the time WHATEVER it WAS, WAS NOT actually my fault. I found myself BEHAVING as if I WERE guilty and worthy of blame, when rationally  I knew that it wasn't true, of me. This is just SOME, of the awful legacy, of being blamed for things I didn't even do, or that were not my fault, throughout my life. To add to my pain, my 'loved ones' simply left me struggling, in the quicksand of the guilt that they poured all over and around me while they moved on with their lives, unencumbered, by guilt, shame, or responsibility; exonerating themselves. One species, that will, never, become extinct, in this world, is family scapegoats. 

 

There were other things, too, that, broke my heart, and made me feel that, I did not HAVE better, in my life, because somehow or other I did not DESERVE better. ONLY my relationship with God has taught me that, this is a LIE. Throughout, my life, to this very day, circumstances continue, to try to convince me, that I do not deserve to have the desires of my heart. I know God's Word well though, and He says in scripture "Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart (Psalm 37:4)." While, my desires, now, are, no longer, to have a man, or romantic love, in my life, I have other deep desires that I hope will happen for me! Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, we just cannot seem to have things go as we wish that they would. I'm usually fairly accepting of this, because of my deep faith in God. He created me, and I figure that He is well able to bring about HIS Will, for my life, regardless, of what I do, or don't do, or want, or don't want. Nevertheless, I am only human, and the damage done, to my soul, by being, the scapegoat, for other peoples' sins, throughout my life, hinders me, and holds me back, in many ways. >sigh< I seem to not only have to pay the price for things I do wrong, but for the wrongdoing of others, as well; and that is AFTER they have first sinned against me, in some way, doing some type of harm, to me, or my life. I remain incredulous, that people can wrong me and walk away unscathed by the situation, while, I have to, pick up the pieces, and try, yet again, to recover, from whatever they did to me. When things unravel, this way, I try, to comfort myself, by saying that, if, whatever, fell through, was God's Will, for me, He would surely have brought it to pass. Even so I do try to hold people accountable for how they treat me, just as God holds each of us accountable, to Him, for how we treat one another in this life. I take comfort that everybody who's wronged me will face the judgment seat of God. They might get away with it now but only in the short run. God KNOWS who is to blame and for what. There's just no GASLIGHTING** God!

There are unfortunately many other examples of my being blamed, and punished for the indiscretions of others, by not only family members, spouses, and in-laws, but the military, civilian employers, and potential employers, as well. I have been made to take the fall*** for things, after I have already been victimized, in these situations. Righteousness, does not, always reign, on this fallen planet. That's for sure! Here is just one example: During the years, I worked as a nightclub dancer,  I was well aware, that, it was only a matter of time, until I would, inevitably, 'age out' of being able to make my living that way. As much as I loved being a dancer, there would come a day, that the party was over, for me, just as it did, for all the other girls, who got into the business for whatever reasons. So, there were times that I left dancing, at least for awhile, to explore other possibilities; trying to find the best answer for me. The very first career aspiration that I ever had, as a pre-schooler, was that I had wanted to be a homemaker, when I grew up! I loved my dollhouse and my Easy Bake Oven. Something about homemaking captivated me and I just felt happy doing domestic types of things. So, I would get married, but it never worked out, for very long, because, I made those choices much too soon in those relationships, and ended up with 'buyer's remorse' after buying the 'bull', my last two husbands handed me, and waking up, from a dream, to a nightmare, complete with a legally binding Marriage Certificate, that had to be undone with a divorce, each time. (After 4 husbands, and 5 marriages, it is NO WONDER, that I, FINALLY came to my senses, and 'swore off' going that route, for over 3 decades, now.) I also tried other things I thought I might be good at or that interested me, along the way. One of those, was that, I applied, with the City of Omaha, Human Resources department, for a job, as a, 911 Operator. With my, previous, Certified Nursing Assistant schooling, and experience, and clerical skills (which were partly developed while I was in the Air Force, and was assigned to clerical duties), I felt that I had strong enough skills to do well in this job. So, I went through the steps.

As the series of written tests, interviews, and tours of the 911 facility started, we were told, that this process was such that, candidates for the job would either be advanced, to the next step, at each stage of the process, or not be going forward at all because they had been deemed to not be a good match for this position. In other words, you either made it, to the hire, one step, at a time, or you were out, of the running, to be a 911 Operator. The City of Omaha HR department, and 911 managers, were very specific, about that. I am a fairly intelligent person, so I did very well with the initial written testing that we were given and I advanced to the next step, because of that. This process continued, over a period of weeks, and I was, beyond, excited, to finally be invited to the Operations Center for a final job interview with the new 911 Director, Mark Conry. (This was many years ago, and Omaha, and Douglas County, Dispatch Operations, had not been combined, yet.) There were, some 'red flags', that happened, during my time there, for this, very important, interview, but I couldn't be sure what was behind these odd behaviors by Director Conry, and the supervisor that worked just under him. All I knew was that I'd successfully completed each and every step to be hired for this job, and I had, earned, this opportunity, to be hired, for this good paying position, that also, had benefits. However, as this last day in the lengthy, involved process transpired  I began to be increasingly uneasy as to what the 'benefits' were considered to be.

It is difficult to not be reactive when things in our present circumstances begin to remind us of, unpleasant, or, frightening, experiences, from our past. We all have baggage, from things, we have been through. Especially, things that traumatized, us. While, I continued, to put on my, smiling, pleasant, 'job interview' face, I was confused, and concerned, by what was happening. When, the supervisor ushered me into Director Conry's office, he seemed to be unusually agitated, although we had just had a congenial conversation as I waited for my turn to go in to this last step in the hiring process. It just didn't seem right that this man who had worked for decades in the highly stressful 911 Call Center environment would be 'jumpy'; especially to this extent! Then, as Mark Conry began to ask me questions, during our one-on-one, final, interview, before hires were made, this supervisor kept on coming back into his office, time and time and time and time again. It seemed as if he was trying to keep watch, of some sort, on the situation, but, I was not sure why. Mr. Conry finally lost patience with this behavior of his, and snapped at him, to get out of his office, and stop coming in, on our interview, together. Because I had passed every single step, with flying colors, earning my right to be hired, by their own statements, I knew, that this interview was actually merely a formality. Mr. Conry finished the interview by grinning at me, ear to ear, and saying that he would be making the calls the next day to those he was hiring. Finally, a real job!  I loved being a dancer, but this was a real career opportunity, as a 911 Operator.

When I went back to my apartment I was so excited that I couldn't sit still! Since he had said that he wasn't going to call anyone he was hiring until the next day I walked to the Old Market from my downtown apartment and got a few groceries. We did not have cell phones or personal computers back then, but my phone had an answering machine. So, I felt, dismayed, when I got home, and saw the light, blinking, on the machine, alerting me, to a missed call. Sure enough, Mark Conry had called--- and I wasn't home to take that call! All his message really said was, to call him back, and he left the number. I was very apprehensive, about it, since he had specifically said that he was going to call the new hires the next day and I had just left his office, after the final interview, a couple of hours earlier! It didn't seem possible that he was calling me today, instead, because he wasn't planning to hire me! . . . I didn't know WHAT to think, as I dialed the number, he left, with my hands shaking from the stress. It only rang once or twice before he answered and the first thing out of his mouth caused me to think, "UH OH!" My heart sank, not because, he wasn't hiring me, because, HE WAS HIRING ME, as it turned out. But, this is how the call with him went, which ruined it all, for me, and left me, in  a quandary, as to what I should do next. He, turned my dream, into a nightmare.

As soon, as he answered the phone, he said, thanks for calling him back; that it was his home phone number, and that 'he was a bachelor', and was just making himself a sandwich. (Please remember that my ONLY association and interaction with this man was in a professional, employer-employee, capacity, and ours was not, in any way, a personal relationship.) He described his new 'bachelor pad' to me, where he lived now, explaining that his wife was divorcing him, and that he had taken Terminal Leave, from the Air Force (with some, higher, enlisted, rank), so he could move to Omaha, to start this new job, as 911 Director. He described how lonely he felt. My heart JUST SANK, as this man said all these things, which were not appropriate to the way in which we knew one another nor the fact that the ONLY reason this, unattractive, man, even HAD my home telephone number, was because it was on my JOB APPLICATION. I hadn't met this guy in a bar and given him my home phone number, to call me up sometime, to chat, or to come on to me, which, he, surely, seemed, to me, to be doing. Then, he gave me, the ULTIMATE INSULT, to MY ACHIEVEMENTS during the HIRING PROCESS (which, I was so PROUD OF!). I had EARNED this job hire, and he said, he WAS hiring me, but he PUT it THIS way--- in such a way, that tried, from the outset, to frame it,  as a, benevolent, gesture, by him, toward me; like he was 'doing me a big favor'  that would, therefore, ingratiate me to him, during my entire employment there.

He said that, HE was PERSONALLY going to take me 'under his wing', and, MAKE SURE, that I SUCCEEDED, at this job. He said that, I was to come into his office, and SHUT THE DOOR, and that, he would MAKE SURE, that I had JOB SECURITY. Devastated, I thought back to wondering why the supervisor had kept nervously coming in during my interview with him, only hours earlier, and I felt like, it was becoming clear, to me, that he had been trying to keep Mark Conry from making  moves on me then and there. That behavior had seemed so strange, at the time. During this phone call, when Mr. Conry had told me to call him back at his home, he also, said to me, that, although, he was still calling, other, hires the next day, as he had told us, all, that he was going to do, I was THE ONLY ONE that he had called THE SAME DAY, with the 'good news', and that it was another favor he did JUST FOR ME and NO ONE ELSE because he didn't want me to have to wait for it.                         

As SOON as I HUNG UP from that call, I KNEW the job--- that I HAD EARNED by my OWN SKILLS AND CAPABILITIES--- was tainted in a very bad way by how he framed it like he was doing me this BIG 'FAVOR', and I HAD to COME TO HIM, on  a REGULAR BASIS, he said, and COME TO HIS OFFICE AND CLOSE THE DOOR in order to 'SUCCEED' at it. I had already been through rape, and lost my Air Force career over sexual harassment. I couldn't work under this kind of understanding with, my boss, on a new job, and he was MAKING IT CLEAR, from the OUTSET, I had to work there UNDER HIS TERMS, to be ALLOWED to SUCCEED in this job. I knew, that he had just made it a non-starter, for me; UNLESS I could get City of Omaha Human Resources to do something, about it. Because, of how, the world works, I knew, that was a long shot. After all, they had JUST HIRED HIM, as the NEW 911 Director. But, I also knew that I could NOT start that JOB, under these terms, that he had laid out, for me, so clearly. So, I had really already LOST the job, as soon as he DID THIS to me; unless HR would HELP ME. HR had a female head of the department, named Michelle Frost. She was also an attorney, I think.  I went to see her, and she sat there, stone-faced, as I described, these troubling things, to her. She said she would look into it, and give me a call in a day or two. At the time, I had become friends with the receptionist, for HR, and she told me, that Ms. Frost had called Mark Conry into her office, and asked him, about these things I told her, and that HE ADMITTED TO IT! I was SHOCKED, that he told her that, what I said, was true! But, when, Michelle Frost called me, herself, with her findings, she told me, that I had NEVER BEEN OFFERED THE JOB, at all, and that,  I WOULDN'T have EVER been offered the job; and, that I'd IMAGINED a job offer.

I was SO UPSET BY THIS. I KNEW that SHE knew, that THIS WASN'T TRUE. (She didn't know that my receptionist friend, in HR, who was privy to the office gossip, had kept me in the loop, on what was REALLY HAPPENING, behind the scenes.) I reminded her, with anger in my voice, that BOTH HR, and 911 management, had SPECIFICALLY told us, SEVERAL times, in NO uncertain terms, that all of the 911 job candidates could only advance toward the hire one step at a time and not by some cumulative, overall, scoring, at the end of all the steps, combined. I said, I was just at my final interview and tour of the facility, and I could NOT have BEEN there, had I not successfully passed EVERY SINGLE STEP, up until that point. She refused to acknowledge any of the facts, so I knew that, no matter what, the job could NEVER be MINE, NOW, because of Conry, and HR; and, I had EARNED, and DESERVED, that job, based on, MY OWN MERIT. I was so mad. It was so unfair. I ended up getting an attorney, to fight it, but as it turned out, he was in the same cocktail party circuit as Michelle Frost, and decided to "settle for something quick, and cheap", another attorney who was watching my case against the city told me that he had confided, to her; which ALSO made me really mad. It dragged on, for months, and, the longer it did, the madder, I got, about it. It was insult, added to injury, for me. Also, although the City of Omaha would admit NO wrongdoing, OF COURSE, they had STILL drawn up a NONDISCLOSURE AGREEMENT, and, a GAG ORDER, which they were going to require me to sign before I would even get the check for a mere $5,000.00. By that point, I had planned to MOVE AWAY, and go somewhere OTHER than this city, that I loved, that had wronged me in all of this.  I had just been waiting for the check to fund my move. I was going to the beach! When the female attorney told me, that my male attorney, had simply settled for "something quick, and cheap", I was so incensed, and felt so disrespected, that I called his office and FIRED HIM, then called City of Omaha HR, asked for Michelle Frost, and told her, to put that check somewhere that would give her a paper cut.

So, because I never got the check, or signed the Nondisclosure or Gag Order, I'm able to talk about it, to this day, if I so choose. My faith in God stayed strong and in fact, His Holy Spirit was really moving, on me, and through me, alot, during all this. I had Visions, and God gave me A VERY SPECIFIC Word Of Knowledge, for a lady at a church that I had never met in person but had talked to over the phone. She'd been praying with ME, over the phone, during this ordeal, but I didn't know ANYTHING about HER personal life. When God gave me this, very personal, Word to tell her, I OBEYED, and she told me, that it was EXACTLY, what her family, was dealing with, and it helped them, to KNOW, God's Will in the situation! I was able to move to the beach, also, because some Catholic sisters that I also prayed with over the phone showed up unannounced, at my apartment, with a sizeable check, made out to me, saying that God had suddenly told them to bring me this money. They had no idea, that I had canceled the financial settlement with the city. They were simply obeying God, who knows all things. Mark Conry, went on to work for many years as the 911 Director, while I lost MY 911 job opportunity BECAUSE OF HIM. The City, continued its business, without penalty, although it overlooked his wrongs, and MADE ME PAY THE PRICE for HIM, and THEM, by NOT DOING RIGHT by me. I DID NOTHING WRONG (aside from, when I called Michelle Frost up, and told her NO DEAL that she could put that measly $5,000.00 CHECK UP HER ASS). This, is just one more example, for this blog post, about me being blamed for the sins of others, when, it was NOT MY FAULT. I wrote this poem, during that ordeal:

No Milk Of Human Kindness

Woke, after barely sleeping,

To the sound of gentle rain--

The tears of God from Heaven--

Does He care about my pain?

My attorney left a message:

My case is winding down,

But we've still not seen the money 

That could help me leave this town . . . .

Sixteen years here, trying to live,

Has very nearly killed me!

There is no milk of human kindness

In any face or heart that I see.

Oh, well, maybe there is some, here and there,

And some weak substitutions

That give a civil overtone

To this town's social institutions.

I walked in the rain to the Post Office--

The guy there snickered in my face

When I asked a simple question

Like I should've learned my place.

I walked back to my apartment building,

No umbrella, in light rain.

Wondering, pondering seriously

Just who is true insane!

Am I the crazy person, here,

Because I seek sweet human touch?

When did caring, sharing, trusting

Become expecting too damn much?

What changed in people's hearts and minds

That made me seem silly, sick, or scared

Over years, through changing times,

For my belief that humans should have cared?

I saw the mailman in the hallway;

He turned to me to say,

"Don't check your box; it's empty--

I have nothing for you today."

"You, and the rest of the world," I replied.

To hide my tears, I turned and was gone

Back into my apartment then,

Cold, damp, needy, and alone.

Someone also said to me today

"Don't do what you don't wanna do . . ."

But, really, what difference does it make,

When what you do want is not an option for you.

Next week I start back as a dancer . . .

Which I swore I would never do . . . 

But at least in a bar I can justify

Why I'll show my body, but not heart, to you--

You-- other folks in this town, on this planet

That just wouldn't spare me a drink

Of the milk of human kindness--

It's okay, 'cause yours soured and stinks!

Keep your non-nourishing substitutions

To yourself, 'cause I'll be drinking wine.

I won't thirst for the milk of your kindness again

'Cause it's just been a waste of my time.

- This ode to Omaha

   written in its entirety

   on May 3, 1996, by

   Deborah Gayle Robinson   

    

* Scapegoating - Wikipedia 

Scapegoating is the practice of singling out a person or group for unmerited blame and consequent negative treatment.

"A scapegoat is defined as a person who is blamed for the wrongdoings and faults of others. The origin of the word is an ancient Jewish tradition in which a goat was symbolically sent into the wilderness to atone for the people's sins."  https://www.regain.us/advice/family/are-you-the-family-scapegoat-signs-you-may-be-and-what-you-can-do-about-it/

"If you were the scapegoat of your family, what you have experienced is emotional and psychological abuse. Victims of scapegoating often suffer from addiction, depression, PTSD and/or obsessive compulsive disorders." https://blavity.com/12-things-the-family-scapegoat-will-know-to-be-true/12-things-the-family-scapegoat-will-know-to-be-true?category1=editorial-desk&category2=relationships

"Incredible as it might seem, there are families that scapegoat a loved one even into and including adulthood. For a variety of reasons we will explore one member becomes the target of accusations, blame, criticism and ostracism. While it’s happening, family members are totally unaware of what they are doing and would deny it if confronted with their behavior. Often, scapegoating begins in childhood and continues into and throughout adulthood.

Why would a family choose a loved one to bully and scapegoat? The answer has a lot to do with the concept of scapegoating and the purpose it serves. Scapegoating is often a way for families to hide problems that they cannot face." https://www.mentalhelp.net/blogs/toxic-families-who-scapegoat/

"In my personal and professional experience, children selected as scapegoats – like Chet – usually stand out. They possess a presence that is palpable to others. They often have a keen sense of fairness and instinctively protest injustice. They are perceptive and can see bad character when it’s present. They are often very empathic and care about others’ feelings. They are often protective of people they care about. They can be very intelligent. Most of all, they are tough. The malignant narcissist only chooses a child as a scapegoat who can take it. The former wants to see the child suffer but not so much that they cannot keep hurting them habitually." https://jreidtherapy.com/scapegoated-by-narcissistic-parent/

"She will pay a lifelong price for sins she did not commit, however, because it is difficult and painful to extract oneself from one’s family. It is counter to the most basic of human needs for home, shelter, affiliation. It is a cruel and inexcusable undertaking for a family to scapegoat a member.

If you look at the research regarding the fate of individuals who have been relentlessly bullied, you can draw conclusions about what happens to scapegoated family members, for scapegoating is bullying with focused and long-term intensity. Some bullied children go on to become bullies themselves. Some develop social skills to divert and challenge bullying, though the scars of having been bullied may insert themselves into their lives in many ways for many years to come. Others, however, do not survive, driven to suicide." https://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/blameless-burden-scapegoating-in-dysfunctional-families-0130174

"Narcissists often look charming on the outside but cause great pain and trauma for their victims."

https://mindandbodyworks.com/survivors-and-thrivers-of-narcissistic-abuse/

"People doubt the abuse took place - Narcissistic abuse is often subtle. When it happens in public, it might be so well disguised that others hear or see the same behaviors and fail to recognize them as abuse. You might not even fully understand what’s happening. You only know you feel confused, upset, or even guilty for your 'mistakes.' . . . A narcissistic parent might gently say, . . . 'You’re so clumsy. You just can’t help yourself, can you?' They laugh with everyone in the room while patting your shoulder to make the insult seem well intentioned." https://www.healthline.com/health/narcissistic-victim-syndrome#doubt-from-others

"They will call you crazy — listing all the events when you tried to speak up for yourself. They will make you question your own memory and sanity, distorting the past and pretending it didn’t even happen." https://medium.com/mind-cafe/what-if-im-the-narcissist-and-not-the-victim-88ccde8fe62d

** Gaslighting - Gaslighting is a slow form of brainwashing that makes a victim question their reality. Typical gaslighting techniques include denying something when there's proof, projecting onto others, and telling blatant lies. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/here-there-and-everywhere/201701/11-warning-signs-gaslighting

*** Take the fall - informal phrase meaning to receive blame or punishment, typically in the place of another person.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

The following, two, items, are helpful articles, related to the themes, of this post:

". . . repeating the mantra: 'I love you, I’m sorry, please forgive me, thank you' . . . he healed himself first. . . . It is by making the unconscious conscious that you come to develop healthy relationships that originate from your authentic self." 

https://medium.com/the-mission/why-people-always-treat-you-according-to-the-way-you-unconsciously-treat-yourself-c4f0e1ae21d

"To encourage positive and discourage offensive behavior:

Do not reward behaviors in others that you wish to eliminate.

Follow actor Alan Alda's advice: 'Be fair with others, but then keep after them until they're fair with you.'

Learn to speak up assertively.

Do not reward unkind behavior from others.

If someone treats you badly, say so—do not smile and pretend it's okay."

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/think-well/201109/are-you-teaching-people-treat-you-badly   

       

"There is A NAKED WOMAN in the park!"

During many of the years, that I was a nightclub dancer, I was aggravated, during my time off from work, by an Omaha police officer, who was, inadvertently, acting as my own private security guard (however unwanted, that was, by me). Because of that, I also nicknamed him 'Stalker Cop'. Any woman who has been stalked can tell you that, there is nothing enjoyable, about that. Although, having him, almost always, around, wherever I was, and wherever I went, when I was out and about, anywhere, in the downtown/Old Market area of Omaha (where I lived, for most of the years that he did this to me) may have given me a sense of my having 'police protection', from, other, types of crimes, it caused more harm, than good, for me. His doing this to me and my trying to get the Omaha Police Department to take it seriously, when I finally made a formal complaint to them about it, would lead me down a very dark road in my life. This set of circumstances of my turning in a law enforcement officer, for breaking the law, was the situation that led directly to my doing prostitution. If my life has been anything, it has been very full of twists and turns, which took me places, that I would never have believed, that I would go or end up, when I was growing up as a naive little girl that took things at face value. As I became more and more aware of how the world really was, versus how I was taught that it was 'supposed to be', I was troubled, and even sad, by the fact that almost nothing, almost no one, was what they had seemed, or 'should' have been based on, the stereotypes, that are, generally, applied, to whatever, or whomever, it was. He didn't fit the description, of the honorable public servant, we are taught that police officers are; and before the fallout, from all this, was finished, I, would no longer fit the stereotype, of the type of girl, that we think of, as one that would never do prostitution. Nevertheless, the facts were, that he was a cop and I was a prostitute. Sometimes it's hard to get our labels to match us or us to match them.

Having a uniformed police officer, who is sworn, to protect and serve, stalking me, is a good example of something, someone, not living up to who, and what, society teaches about, and expects of, them. His playing, this game, with me, with my life (and then, mocking me, with glee, and even laughter, in my face, about it, when I took his, constant, attention toward me, as, surely, being a sign of someone really caring, about me), created a confusion within me, that was, very, distressing, and damaging. I simply could not fathom the fact, that a police officer would play with another person's thoughts and emotions, for no other reason than to alleviate the boredom of their generally mundane workdays, while simultaneously feeding their ego, and nothing more. He had put, so much--- extreme, prolonged--- effort, into it, that I didn't think it could possibly indicate anything other than I was genuinely cared for, by this other human being. I had thought that he was a clown, from the moment I first set eyes on him, but had nevertheless opened my heart up to him, when I thought, he must really care, about me, to expend so much energy, to 'be in my face' ALL the time. EVERY time I have SECOND-GUESSED my initial opinion of someone, and gone on, to give them, the benefit of the doubt, with me, I have lived to REALLY REGRET that decision. It went from frustrating to infuriating when even after he--- bluntly--- cleared that up for me, he CONTINUED to DO it; with a smirk on his face! I'm sitting here, shaking my head in disbelief at this, but it was all too true. He did this to me for years. ELEVEN years, in fact, to some extent, or other. Until, I finally took him to court, for it, to stop it. But, I get ahead of myself here with that though. Consider my background before I begin to detail his crime. 

I had already had my heart irrevocably broken by finding out that parents are not always loving. That, a husband, who takes vows, and marries you, to become one with you, may not, even love you, or mean those vows, he took; and, even worse, may actually be your most dangerous and abusive enemy. I had learned, the hard way, that climbing into a pickup truck to accept a ride home from a semi-stranger, who, had, genuinely, seemed, to just want to be helpful, could end with, my being raped, by that person, who was, really, not trying to help me, at all. I had become completely demoralized, when I swore an oath to serve my country in the military but found myself backtracking on that, and saying to my commander, "Sir, if THIS is what, SERVING my country, is going to BE like, for me, I don't want to be here" because of the, tremendous, unrelenting, sexual, pressure, on me, by the military males, I was, greatly, outnumbered by, which, culminated, with, my turning in my own commander at the time, whose organization I was loaned out to as I awaited a further security clearance, to be able to work where I was, actually, assigned, in my orders to Offutt Air Force Base. He had continually sexually harassed me, until it got to the point that I was terrified of being raped again, after he ordered me to get into his car, with him, where he had touched me, inappropriately, and told me, that he and I WERE going to have sex, in the future. I ended up, forfeiting, my Air Force career, that had started out so well, to escape, such terrible treatment, that he and his male fellow enablers put me through, because I finally turned him in to stop it. I had, already, been through all this, and much more, by the time this cop came into my life. Perhaps cynically, due to, my own, life experiences, I think that it is a disservice, especially to innocent, trusting, children, when people are taught to believe that 'parents' are loving, nurturing and protective toward us; that when someone says, they 'love' you--- no matter who they are--- that they mean it and have the most sincere intentions toward you; that 'serving your country' is truly a noble endeavor where you can expect to be treated with respect for your sacrifice and have your compatriots looking out for your safety and well-being; and 'police' are there to protect us, from criminals. STALKING, is, legally, a CRIME. But, doing all that he did to me for as long as he did all that to me, was also unconscionable.

Clearly misogyny took some forms which I never could have anticipated in my life as a female that I would unfortunately have to learn about through the nightmare of being subjected to them. I think it has to be what his behavior toward me was. Dictionary.com defines misogyny as hatred, dislike, or mistrust, of women [which is] manifested in various forms, such as, physical intimidation, and abuse, sexual harassment, and rape, social shunning, and ostracism, etc. This cop, Darren, was harassing me continually by stalking me. In doing that, he destroyed my sense of privacy, and peace, to the point where I actually developed chiropractic problems, in my neck, because I was continually looking back over my shoulder, to see if he was doing this to me, yet again, because so much of the time he was! This would go on for years, with him. I tried to ignore him, for much of that time, to no avail, until I started to think that only a man who was deeply attracted to a woman can act this way, this much, and this long, and began, to consider the possibility, of it, since nothing, I could conclude about it, made any sense to me, regardless of his motive. Because he was also a police officer, who had a gun on him, and this was not standard operating procedure for police officers, it would also classify, per the definition of misogyny, as physical intimidation. Even, all these years later, I have never really known why he chose to do this to me. It isn't just him, that torments women, for no real reason. I have already covered many, other, men, in my posts that have harmed me, and therefore, the course, of my life, by their treatment of me. Since women normally do the far greater majority of the raising of boys, I do not understand, how misogyny can be as pervasive, as it is, in the mindset of the male gender. It is a complicated issue, but women pay a very high price for it. For me, I think that, men fear the power which women, naturally, possess--- because from birth on, they need us, more, than we seem to need them, and they learn to resent, and try to compensate for, that fact, which disturbs them, so deeply. Boys are often given a Free Pass to misbehave, and girls often suffer the consequences of boys' bad behaviors. It often just seems like another 'sport', for males, and it's difficult to tell if they really have any awareness of the damage they do, to female lives. Do they, just not know? Or, do they just not care? I don't have the answers, to this, perplexing, issue, but I can describe things that I have been subjected to, by men, and the impact, those have had, on my life, which many posts are about.

OPD used the community policing* model, of law enforcement. So, it did not take long, for each officer, assigned to this area that I lived in, to know who everybody was--- including me. In fact, we all got to know one another on a first name basis and those who worked in this part of the city, were known as such, as were those of us who lived in this part of downtown Omaha. Because, the same officers were patrolling, the same beat, they also knew the regular routines of the citizens, that were usually in this area; and since I only had a few hours to do my own thing, in the early afternoon, before I had to start getting ready for work, 6 days a week, I was even more predictable than most, to the police officers on patrol. Since I also preferred to do all of my dating 'on my home turf' so to speak, for safety reasons, I was often under the watchful gaze of the officers, assigned to the area, then, as well. While I, sometimes, had other, personal, interactions with some of the other officers, who were around on Darren's days off, and on other shifts, none of them did anything close, to what Darren did, toward me, by placing himself, wherever I was, much, if not most, of the time. As I got more familiar with how he acted in a given situation, I eventually realized that he was very careful, about how he went about that, to avoid detection of his, questionable, behavior, by the other officers, as well as his shift supervisor who sometimes drove through the area in his patrol car, to check on whether things were going smoothly, with law enforcement goals. It is difficult for me, to describe, Darren's behavior, for this post, because to some extent, I have to be able to make sense of it, to find the words to do that here, as it also leaves me at a loss, for words, because, it was so, outlandish, baffling, and mind-bending. All I can say is, I told God, that if I were going to start writing this blog, I would be as honest and factual as possible about everything, or I wouldn't write the posts at all; and, I have done that, with every post. Although, there are certain individuals who are spoken of in my posts who would most likely deny the truth, that I have told about them, here in my blog, because it incriminates them, and documents their bad behaviors. I also discuss my own dark side, too, though. So, now, the details about Darren, since this eventually led me to do prostitution!  

It started off innocently enough, it seemed. Since I lived either downtown or right in the small, self-contained, community of the Old Market, during the years that I was a dancer, I spent my time off from work close to home, for various reasons. I would meet lunch or dinner dates at restaurants, in the area, to avoid getting into a car with them, and to be able to simply exit the situation, and go home, if it did not feel safe or enjoyable to me for whatever reason (such as the occasional man trying to grope or pressure me into a sexual interaction with them although I had only agreed to eat a meal with them). Once a man from an online dating site met me, in the Old Market, for the first (and last!) time, pulling his truck into an alley, which I refused to get into (been there, done that; ended in RAPE), and, then, he pulled a large plastic jug with a small amount of brownish liquid in it out from the backseat, as we stood, by his vehicle, and told me he made me some 'homemade sweet tea' for me to drink. I refused and he persisted, so I finally just went home. I am sure it was laced with something--- probably the 'date rape', knockout, drug that was being reported in the news at the time, as something men were doing to women. I never told most of these men, I dated, where I lived. The few that I did tell couldn't access my apartment. I made a point to only live in security buildings with locked entries. Since I, mainly, worked night shifts, while I was a dancer, and usually 6 nights a week, I did most, of my socializing, on the job. So, it was really hard for any man to get me to talk with them when I was off work, because it felt like I was at work, doing that. The questions and conversations were all the same. So, even though I did date, some, men, out of the many, who asked me, my time off work was precious to me, and I preferred spending most of it alone, in privacy. As much privacy, as I could find, in the bustling Old Market and downtown district.

Music is one thing that I have never felt tired of! Even after working in clubs, as a dancer. Sitting alone in the afternoon,  I enjoyed listening to a street musician in the Old Market or live bands playing at some of the festivals that were held in the downtown area. It would, relax me for awhile. However Darren came up to me to chat at times, when I would just be sitting there. Asking me questions, about my life, he soon knew my name, where I lived, and where I worked. (I normally did not give all that personal information to men, who walked up to me, inquiring about such things. But, there is an ingrained feeling, for many of us, that we have, no choice, but to reply honestly to the police whenever they ask us any questions.)

Sometimes, I would be sitting, at a, sidewalk, table, at one of the restaurants, with my date, enjoying a meal, when Darren would stop by our table. I was in my 'Stevie' persona, for my dates, so, what I was wearing, and, how I was acting, was all to, keep up my image, as, the 'nightclub performer'. Darren, stood by our table chatting as his eyes looked me over, from head, to gold-painted toenails, while, I amused myself, by, subtle, little gestures, like sucking on my straw in my drink, in a somewhat suggestive way. With both, my date, and Darren, it was fun flirting, and none, of us, took it beyond, superficial, though supercharged, sexual energy. Looking, just a little sweatier, than when he first stopped by to talk to us, Darren eventually dismissed himself by saying (eyes still on me, and not the food on our plates), "It looks . . . really good", leaving me to smile slightly, as he went on his way. This was just out-in-the-open, nothing to hide, back-and-forth banter, between us, and whoever else, was around, at the time. It was, lighthearted fun!

On days that, the weather, was nice, and I didn't have a date, I would put on my gold lame**, Victoria's Secret bikini, under an oversized t-shirt and my tight short shorts, and go over to the park--- usually, Gene Leahy Mall, but sometimes Heartland of America park--- to sunbathe, before I had to, go home, and get ready for my work shift, at the club, that night. To have as much privacy as possible, I would climb up the hill to the highest, most isolated point that I could find where I would, spread out my beach towel, set out my cool drink, turn on my music, and open up my magazine. Then I would pull off my shirt and shimmy out of my, skin-hugging, short, shorts, with a, very, feminine, wriggle, for my, sunbathing session. There was, something, sexy, about, those tan lines, from a bikini, when, the thong costume bottoms, that I danced in, were contrasted, against, that, as being, much smaller, still. My suntan emphasized how skimpy our costumes were that we wore.

 

Lying up on the hill, in the park, I had felt comfortably isolated, from other people, not even realizing that I could actually be viewed as I lay there, by people in office buildings, on the street in vehicles, and even those walking by, beneath the hill, in the park. Since I lived in the middle of downtown, this was as close, as I had, to a 'back yard'. I was doing my best to make the best of it but it also had its liabilities that I had not taken into account, in the process, of that. Victoria's Secret was one of my favorite places to order clothing from, when I was a dancer. I'd, also, always wanted a gold-colored bikini. I wore a lot of gold nail polish, in those days, as well, on both my fingertips and toes. When I saw that Victoria's Secret had a gold bikini in their catalog, and that it was on sale, I was delighted! I was also a bit surprised, that something like that was not Sold Out. Thinking, it was just a stroke of luck, in my favor, I ordered it, and could not wait to start sunbathing in it! So, that is what I wore, when I was working on my tan, in the park. In the beginning, I had no tan at all so the metallic sheen of the bathing suit was in strong contrast to my pinkish skin. As my tan grew deeper and darker over time, I began to look bronzed by the sun, making my skin become basically the same tone, as the bikini. Apparently, as I would, eventually, come to find out, it looked that way--- even more so--- from a distance! The difference, between these two tones had, gradually, been done away with, by the sun, merging my suit and my skin into one, golden, shade. This bikini had, basically, become invisible, against my tanned skin! Since, I could clearly see this bathing suit from up close, against my own skin, I was oblivious, to this fact. I had noticed, however, that, suddenly, drivers, who had to stop at a stop sign, near the park, in view of the hill that I was on, were screeching their tires, as they tried not to run right through the stop sign, at the very last second of their approaching the intersection. I could sometimes hear, one car after another, doing that, when I had never heard that before, which was really bewildering to me. Was there just a sudden increase in bad drivers? I wondered to myself, because I had never known this to be such a problem, in the downtown area, before, as that had become now.

One day, a guy that I knew, climbed up the hill and sat down on the grass, beside my beach towel. He pointed, across the pond which was in the middle of the park, and said, "Stevie, I just came from over there. You, will never BELIEVE, what they are looking for! Those cops, just got a call, from dispatch, telling them that people had been saying that, there is A NAKED WOMAN in the park!" I was, still, clueless, about my tan causing my bikini to, in effect, disappear, from others' view. I sat up in shock and said, "REALLY?!? I haven't seen ANYTHING LIKE THAT, and I've been here, for a while, now. Why, is it, that I never get to see the stuff like THAT?!?" If, this guy had known, that I, was this person, they were looking for, but that I was, actually, not "naked", at all, so that I didn't realize it was ME, he didn't tell me, or the cops, then, and I remained, totally, unaware, of it being ME, that was causing all the commotion, close calls, with cars, on city streets, and, complete, cessation of male productivity, in a 15-story office building, that was right across the street, from the park; the latter, of which, I would not know about, still, for some time to come, until, I, eventually, had a conversation, with, a club customer, one night, at work. The police officers, searching the park for this 'nudist' that 911 kept getting calls about, were the ones that were working on Darren's day off. Not many days, after that, though, the guy that emptied the parking meters, downtown, came up to me, tentatively, as I lay on my beach towel, on the hill, in the sun. I knew him, the way I knew all of the 'regulars', who were a part of the downtown Omaha/Old Market scene. He greeted me in an unusually shy manner as his eyes scanned my skin and my suit. Then, he told me that Darren had sent him over there to me, to see what I was wearing. He pointed across the park, where that police officer was waiting for the information. Darren--- the LAW ENFORCEMENT officer, had sent, a meter attendant, to see whether I was in violation of the law (as in NAKED, in the park!) because HE WAS AFRAID TO! It was his job to investigate such complaints.

So, Darren must have thought that I was capable of actually doing that; and, had  I been, it seems that, he would have, sent the meter attendant, back over, with a warning, or with his handcuffs! Or, called, for backup, to deal with me, instead of, doing his job, himself, as he was sworn, to do, as a police officer. It was shocking, to realize in that moment that I WAS the 'naked woman in the park' (even though I wasn't naked, at all, actually), but, it was extremely amusing, to me, too, to see how scared Darren was of considering (maybe, even fantasizing about) that, were I really naked, in the park, it would be his duty, to come over there, and handcuff my slender, sweaty, female, body (in all its, 'unclothed', sun-bronzed, sensuality), and, haul me off to jail. Smiling up at the meter guy, from my beach towel, as he was acting quite flustered himself, standing that close to me, even though he saw my bikini on my body with his own eyes, I slowly took a sip from my can of Pepsi, and said, to him, "Next time the COP sends YOU over here to do HIS job, can you bring me a Pepsi, too? It's REALLY HOT, out here!" Then, I told him that he should go back and tell Darren that I really was naked in the park, just to see, what he'd DO about it, if he thought it was TRUE. Then, I just, sat there, up on the hill--- IN my bikini--- and watched as he walked back over to Darren to talk to him about it and they left the park, together. When, I ran into, this meter man, awhile later, he told me that Darren had informed police dispatch that, whenever these calls came in, about a naked woman in the park, that they were to explain she wasn't naked, but was actually wearing "a flesh-colored bathing suit". It was a very hot summer. For, all, of us. I mused to myself that Darren didn't do his job that day because he couldn't risk, my saying, "Is that your nightstick, or are you just glad to see me?"    

One night as I sat at the bar in the Backdoor Lounge with a club customer named Frank, who was, a retired deputy sheriff, that owned a, small, one-man-operation, snack shop, on the main floor of one of the tall office buildings, which was located right across the street, from the park, we started discussing my tan lines. When I mentioned to him that I sunbathed in the park, downtown, he sat bolt upright, on his bar stool, with the look of someone that, just had a lightbulb go on, over their head. Then he asked me if I had ever noticed that there were male faces at every window, on every floor, of the entire 15-story office building, on the side of it that looked out onto the park; around 1 PM, every afternoon that 'the signal' went out through interoffice memos on computers, that 'the bikini girl' was up on the hill in the park. I could not have seen them from the hill in the park, between sun glare, and the distance, that they were, from me. But, from, the vantage point, of those voyeurs***, they would have had no trouble at all seeing me, quite clearly! Frank joked that he could tell when the woman (whom, he now realized, was ME) was in the park, because his snack shop business slowed to a stop with no one coming in from the offices in that building, and that he could feel the whole high-rise leaning in the direction of the park due to all the men in the building standing at windows.

There came a day, though, that this situation, with my 'invisible' bikini, went from amusing, to extremely embarrassing for me. Being a dancer for years, I didn't get embarrassed easily, about anything, anymore. I was extremely comfortable in my own skin, and in my identity, as 'Stevie', at this point. But, one day, as I was lying on my stomach, on my beach towel, up on the hill, in the park, deepening my tan, I heard alot of voices of little children, coming along the path in the park that was just beneath the hill. Little kids, speak their mind, without thinking anything, of it. I suddenly heard one little boy's voice raising itself loudly above all the others, as he called out to me, in all sincerity, "LADY, ARE YOU NAKED UP THERE?" Cringing, I raised my head up and turned over on the towel, to look at him. There was, alot of little kids, walking single file, led by a teacher, who was, doing her best, NOT to look at ME, and the little boy still expecting an answer from me to satisfy childlike curiosity. In that moment, I am sure that I no longer had skin matching my bikini as I felt myself turn deep red, from my head to my toes, in acute discomfort, and deep embarrassment. Looking at the little preschooler who still wanted an answer, all I could manage to do, in response, to him, was look him in his, innocent, eyes, and slowly shake my head, in a nonverbal 'No'. I stopped wearing my bikini in the park, following that incident. I just, could not feel the same, wearing it, after that.

Mutually harmless, adult, flirting, can be fun, and energizing; sublimating, alot, of pent-up, sexual, energy. Living my life as 'Stevie', during those years, which I am describing, my flirting, was on autopilot, as my basic persona. Wherever I went, I engaged in meaningless and reciprocal flirtations. Many if not most of which were started by the men and not me. (After all, I had to do all that at work every night to keep the customers satisfied.) It didn't mean anything to us and no one took it seriously, so no one could get hurt, by that. Everyone knew it was superficial, and just for fun. This, included, the times that, Darren and I, talked with one another; usually, in the Old Market, but, in other parts of downtown, as well. I was out and about alot in the afternoon hours before work, and on my days off, and he was on his bike, usually, patrolling the area as part of the Bike Patrol Unit, but sometimes  in his police cruiser, or on foot. When Darren found out that I worked in the clubs, as a dancer, he responded without missing a beat, imagining himself having much more clout, with me, than he had, saying, "Oh, GOOD! YOU can work undercover, for me, and report all the tips on the criminals in there." Without a nanosecond of hesitation, I responded that, THAT would NEVER happen. I'd already been beaten up in the bar, and it had been made clear to me, over the years, in the nightclubs  I danced in, that several co-workers, and even, some of the club owners, actually already thought that I was really a cop or at the very least an informant for them, simply because, I was seen as being so 'clean', compared to the majority of other employees, which were working in this business. I had absolutely NO DESIRE, OR INTENTION, to snoop around, and end up beaten up again, or worse--- especially since I had already had a situation with the mafia, which were connected to many of these clubs, to some extent or other. I enjoyed my job, and my lifestyle, at the time. I was making good money and having fun. Why would I rock the boat when it was floating, so nicely, for me? Nothing, about Darren's request, benefitted me!

It was not too long, before the interactions with Darren began to take a turn for the worse. In the beginning, he would, come up to me, and tell me, some of the stories, about experiences, he'd had, as a police officer, or let me know about some event that I might not have heard of, but that, I could be, interested in, which was in the downtown, or Old Market, areas, of the city. Or, he would, chat, with me, and someone that, I might be sitting with. It seemed, that he began to make alot of assumptions about my relationship, with him, though, which, started to, really, irritate me, because, it became, both, an intrusion, and an imposition, on my free time, that I wanted and needed, to have, for myself. It was, extremely, annoying, and began, to get, more, and more, aberrant, as time passed! THIS, wasn't MUTUAL. THIS, wasn't FUN. And THIS, wasn't FUNNY! He made, a real PEST, of himself, to me, to the point that, he was totally getting on my nerves, and I told him so! It didn't STOP him, from doing that, though. He not only, KEPT doing this, which was, STALKING, me, now, but, it increased, until it seemed like nonstop harassment, of me, by him. It was, bizarre. It was, intimidating. It was, uncalled for. This, was, undermining, everything, to do with my quality of life! It was a nightmare. The picture shown, in this paragraph, is of, Gene Leahy Mall park, in Omaha, during, an arts, festival. I will not, be able, to describe, EVERY SINGLE THING, that Darren did, to me, during the--- 11 years!--- of my life, that he tormented me with these behaviors until I was a nervous wreck, mentally, emotionally, and also, physically, because there were just TOO MANY! HE CONSTANTLY DID THIS, to me; for no rational reason, that I could ever figure out.

One of the earliest incidents involved my walking over to the Summer Arts Festival. I was meeting a date, to this event. Darren had, already, begun annoying me, due to openly, stalking, me, at this point. He would, pop up, at my heels, wherever I went! He would not, acknowledge it, or address it, whenever I confronted him, about that, either. Even though I'd told him that it really bothered me. He continued to follow me around, and watch me, everywhere I went, that he could possibly go. When I got to the arts festival and stood at the spot where, my date and I, had agreed to meet one another, Darren was right there, right away. As soon as he saw me he simply sat there straddling his bicycle. Standing there with his arms crossed. He wasn't patrolling. He wasn't moving on, through the, large, crowd, that was there that day, doing his JOB. He, just, stood there, watching me, for almost 20 minutes, until my date arrived, and then, he followed us, through the crowd, as we went from tent to tent, looking at art. I could not have LEFT the AREA to wait for my date somewhere else because there were no cellphones then, and I had no way to reach the guy I was meeting that day, to tell him that I needed to change our meeting location, at the festival. Even if I could have done that, somehow, it would not have helped me, get away from Darren's keeping, almost constant, sight of me. It was just like being, under the scrutiny, of (known) police surveillance; only, I hadn't done anything, against the law, to deserve this violation of my peace and privacy as a private citizen! He was on a bike. Although I CONSTANTLY and CONTINUALLY tried to get away from him, he would simply follow me wherever I went. Anywhere and everywhere that he possibly could! Whatever his reason may have been, he obviously had a weird fixation on me. He, was a law enforcement officer. This, was stalking. It is illegal! This is NOT 'harmless fun', to the victim that is going through it, nearly everyday.

[Note: This photo is NOT of Darren. This IS what the, Omaha, Bike Patrol officers wore, though, so they were clearly visible, due to their yellow polo shirts. He, actually looked like, the TV character, 'Barney Fife'****, in the 'Mayberry' TV series, only, Darren, was bald.] On the day, that, I was, meeting my date, at the arts festival, Darren just stood there staring at me while I was waiting for the guy to arrive. I tried, moving behind a large post, to get out of his view while still being where my date was supposed to find me, but Darren kept adjusting his position, just enough, to keep full sight of me, when I tried to move away, from his line of sight. Clearly, he knew, I was uncomfortable, with him doing this to me. Yet he kept on stalking me, over 11, long, years. I can't comprehend, what his thinking would have to be, in order to impact someone's life with, this, extreme, level, of harassment, and, stress, from the, constant, stalking, that he did, to me. But, I had made it very clear to him, including in conversations about it, that HE NEEDED TO STOP, and it only got WORSE, and NEVER stopped. It makes me so angry! That men DO this, to WOMEN, for NO reason; and GET AWAY WITH IT. His being, a POLICE OFFICER, made it, even MORE, EGREGIOUS, for me. The moment, that my date arrived, for example, for a, much-needed, day off from work, for me, which, should, have been, relaxing, and fun, Darren (after, standing, there, just, watching me, for quite awhile) suddenly, started, riding his bike--- but ONLY until he got right in between, my date and I, as we were walking toward one another. Once, he got, directly, in our path, he stopped, his bike, again, and stood there, causing us, to have to go around him, and his bike. There was NO REASON, at all, for that, completely, uncalled for, type of manipulative maneuvering. Darren went, way out of his way, to get in, and stay in, my face, but, I had, no idea, why.                                                                                                   

I, needed, to feel . . . oblivious, to all the goings on around me, as, much, as, possible, when, I was out, and about, and taking some time, to myself, to simply be alone, for awhile, lost in my thoughts. Just, enjoying, some desperately needed 'downtime' away from work and having to, be 'on', as 'Stevie', all the time. This photograph, is of Omaha's Old Market, which is often, the busiest area of the city, due to, locals and tourists, alike. It can be bustling with activity, from people crowding the sidewalks, elbow-to-elbow, and cars, everywhere you look, filling the quaint, brick-lined, streets, with, bumper-to-bumper traffic. Early on, in Darren's switch, from public servant, to private stalker, with me, he would watch to see where I was going (such as to the ice cream shop, or to, some other, place, of business), and, then, he would, follow me, on his bike, again, as I came out, of the building. There were, signs, posted, on the sidewalks, prohibiting bicycles from being on them. Nevertheless, Darren, would ride his bike up onto the sidewalk, peddling along, beside me, as I was walking, to, wherever, I was going. Since, he was riding alongside me, as people were walking past, on the sidewalk, trying, to avoid, being in the direct path, of his bicycle (which drew even more, unwanted, attention, to me, from, all these people, on top of, the, intrusive, attention from him) I conveyed my displeasure about it with a stressed expression and a sharp tone to my voice. However, Darren, just seemed to be, amused, by it.

His, showing up, almost all, the time, wherever, I was, whatever, I was doing, and whoever, I was with, was an immense invasion of my privacy and 'personal space'. Disrupting, my daydreaming. Intruding, on my, interactions, with others. One day, unable, to, get him, to "STOP IT, ALREADY!", I jaywalked*****, to get away, from HIM. As I ran out into the busy street, weaving between the traffic, trying to cross over, to the other side, to, get away, from, this STALKER, I was nearly hit by a car. He HARASSED me to the point that, he DROVE ME TO DO THAT! Even so, with NO thought for my SAFETY, he STILL would NOT LEAVE ME ALONE! Darren, still on his bike, FOLLOWED, RIGHT BEHIND ME, as I crossed the street, in the middle, of the block, which was full, of, moving, traffic. Desperate, to escape, this jerk, now, and hoping, that, the thick traffic, would deter him, from following me, further, at least for NOW, I, immediately, CROSSED BACK OVER to the OTHER side, still jaywalking between vehicles, which were moving along the street. He followed me right back. Back, and forth, we went, crossing, in the middle, of the street, several times, in a row. What, was it, going to TAKE, for, this guy, to LEAVE ME ALONE?!? I wondered, as I finally ducked into the nearest place of business simply to escape him. I could have been injured or killed. Even so, he was unrelenting, which said to me that he didn't care about that. This guy was a REAL HEADACHE to me, now. I was starting to feel jumpy all the time because he was always popping up almost everywhere I was, to the point that I had no feeling of peace, and no sense of privacy. He was a pest, and he was a problem. I could never figure out what he was actually after by doing this, to me. What was his purpose? His 'end game'? I didn't like him making a game out of my personal life. I had to deal with variations of that at work. Now I NEVER got a break, from the CRAP, that MEN, put me through. And, NOW, it was a COP, too; messing with my head. Freaking me out with his weirdness. THIS wasn't something FUN. THIS, wasn't JUST INNOCENT FLIRTING. THIS, wasn't HARMLESS.

My, beloved, cockatiel, CeeBee, was still in my life during those years. Because I had just a few hours, on my work days, which was in the afternoons, to do all that I needed to, or wanted to, for both me and my 'bird baby', I would regularly put CeeBee in his carrier (with an open weave pattern, so he got plenty of air and could see in all directions), and take him on a walk through the park, or to sit and listen to musicians, on the street corners, in the Old Market. CeeBee and I loved each other deeply, and we had a very close relationship. There is nothing to compare with the unconditional, all-in, love, of a pet, for their person. I have never experienced any, human, relationship, that's anywhere close, to that, loving, bond, of, mutual, trust, and care, that, we had! That, relationship, was the closest one, that I have ever had, with, any, living being, on this Earth. Working, 6 nights, a week, meant that, I was away, from home, more than, I was there, and I cherished, the time, that, CeeBee, and I, had together. Our own, special, time. On, sunny, summer, days, I would, put his water dish, and food, in, his walking basket, and take him to the park, for a picnic! A bird in a basket, attracted attention, from, and interactions, with, people, who, saw us; so I, sometimes, tried to find, privacy, somewhere, in this urban landscape, to get away, alone--- just the two of us--- so we could just 'be', together, blissfully undisturbed, by the intrusion, of others. One day, I climbed up the tall hill in the park, where there was also a circular, concrete, enclosure, that had, one, lone, park bench, inside, of it; for, one, of those, private, picnics, with just my, 'feather-chested studmuffin', and I! (I gave, CeeBee, bits, of my bag lunch, as well, which I had purchased from one of the nearby restaurants, before we headed over to the park.) It was an isolated spot, for downtown Omaha.

I was talking to him, laughing with him, singing to him; just enjoying our personal time together. It was so precious, to me, because, CeeBee, was so precious to me! He was, by far, the BEST THING, in MY LIFE, for, nearly, 20 years, together, before he 'flew Home, to Heaven'. On this day, that I am describing, I felt so relaxed, and happy, in that place, of complete seclusion from the outside world. I didn't have to be 'Stevie', for that, short, time. I was, simply being, 'CeeBee's Mom'. My greatest privilege, and honor! We were just sharing some, sweet, moments, alone together, when, suddenly, a bee, flew into the area, and wouldn't leave us alone. I definitely did not want to get stung! I started, trying to shoo it away, but it persisted. Finally, holding CeeBee's walking basket, as I tried to keep from, either of us, being stung, by this bee, I, quickly, stood up, and whirled around, as it, circled, behind me; and THERE WAS DARREN. Not more than a few feet away, from us, just standing there. Arms folded, across his chest. Straddling, his bike. Just watching me. Watching us. CeeBee and I. SPYING on us. There was, nothing else, that, he COULD HAVE BEEN DOING, there! There were no other people, anywhere around that isolated area, of the park, and nothing else, there, but a small grove of trees, just behind, where he stood. He was standing near this, waist-high-or-so, concrete wall. JUST WATCHING ME. LISTENING, to me talking to my pet, in (what I had, mistakenly, thought was) private. Although, (DARREN KNEW) I had NO idea, at all, that, he was there, doing that. Until, the bee showed up, and I finally jumped up, off that park bench, to get CeeBee and I away from it. I stopped in my tracks, frozen from shock, when I saw Darren RIGHT THERE, WATCHING ME, and just stared, at him, with a look of, both, genuine ALARM, and real CONFUSION, as I tried to MAKE SENSE, of WHY, he KEPT DOING THIS, TO ME. He didn't leave, when I saw him, there, look away, or act like someone who JUST GOT CAUGHT--- STALKING, a woman--- yet again. Darren just kept on standing there, expressionless and wordless. I left, to get away, from him.

He hadn't been standing in front of the enclosure, because I could have easily seen him, there, then. He had stood, just behind, that low wall, of concrete, so he could see me without me knowing that he was there. He wasn't there when I arrived and I had not heard him coming up behind me, there on the hill, so Darren had to have been stealthy, about positioning himself there, so close to me, without my knowing it. There was NO CRIME BEING COMMITTED, by me, to warrant this surveillance of me. I was merely, a woman who had been trying to be alone, with her pet! Trying, her best, to have some, peaceful private time. Nothing more than that. I didn't say anything at all, to Darren, the majority of the time, that he did these things to me, because, early on, I definitely did, tell him, that it was upsetting, and annoying, to me, and that, he should stop. I also, behaved, in a way, that made that clear, once he went from being 'Officer Friendly' the neighborhood cop, toward me, to 'Stalker Cop', of my own, personal, HELL. But, HE DIDN'T; and, IN FACT, it only, got worse, with him! The, third, photo (above), that I included with this post, shows the front of that, isolated, private, concrete enclosure, where CeeBee and I were having our picnic. It was up on the, very same, hill that I sunbathed on. I went there because of its isolation. Almost no one that went to the park ever climbed up the steep hill, to go to that part of the park, which is why I liked it so much. I was always, trying to, carve out some, private, space, for myself, which was hard to find, living in the middle of downtown Omaha, as I did, and when I lived in the Old Market, itself, for several years--- because I got a great deal on the rent, for a loft apartment, there. That one park bench inside the concrete enclosure faced the pond, in the middle of the park. In that, third, photograph, that I inserted, into this post, in the center, of the right-hand side, of the picture, you can see, the grove of trees, which was just behind the concrete enclosure, I was in, and also, behind where Darren had stood, only feet, from where I had just been sitting; in what, I had THOUGHT, was, TOTAL PRIVACY. He hadn't made his presence known, to me, there. He'd stood, in silence, in back, of me. Snooping. Spying. Just watching me, there. There was no one else, anywhere, around, and nothing else in that part of the park. He was looking at me.

This photo is of a police officer in the Old Market, in winter gear. Darren also wore this type of uniform when he wasn't in his bike patrol polo and shorts. Because of the build of this man, this photograph, could very well be, a picture of Darren. He was the skinniest and scrawniest of the cops. A near-lookalike to the TV character 'Barney Fife', a law enforcement officer, on the 'Mayberry' TV series, that, almost, always, created more problems than he solved. That's what Darren did in my life. This photo was taken in the evening, and Darren, normally worked 'A' (day) Shift. However, this could still be him, because, during those years, that he stalked me, he often worked overtime, on the evening 'B' Shift, as well. When I was off work, and out on a dinner date, he would see us and start staring. Once, out on a lunch date, I was so tired of Darren, just sitting, arms crossed, straddling his bike seat, watching me, that I asked the guy I was out with to go over and take a photo, of Darren, doing that. He wasn't phased, in the least, by my having that 'evidence', though, as he always claimed that he was JUST DOING HIS JOB, by his presence there; which was true but only up to a point. He never admitted to anything else.

My friend, Jim, is an attorney in Omaha. He told me, once, in a conversation that we were having, about my frustration with Darren stalking me, for 11 years, that the City of Omaha wasn't happy with Darren's behavior, either. Only, the city was upset about him working all that overtime, on 'B' Shifts (that also meant, he was around MORE OFTEN, to STALK ME EVEN MORE, while he was DOING THAT). Jim told me, that Darren ended up with a retirement pension from the City of Omaha that put a hardship on the fund, in such a way that was both, selfish and sketchy. Jim said that this was known as "pension spiking"******, and TOOK ADVANTAGE of the system. So, while not in the same way, others knew of Darren's selfishness and 'gaming' the system*******. He was SWORN, TO UPHOLD THE LAW, but, he was STALKING ME, which is a CRIME********. Stalking can be either a felony or a misdemeanor. It is unsettling, intrusive and causes (in the case of Darren doing it to me), physical symptoms of stress, mental distress, and, emotional suffering. 

   

I had a friend named Joe, that occasionally took me to lunch, and also invited me to hear his band's rehearsals, in the basement, of the apartment building, that he managed, downtown. He eventually started to tease me because he had seen, for himself, again, and again, and again, that, Darren, would show up, on his bike, or in his patrol car, and, often hover, around the area, then, on his patrol, any time I was around. On days Joe wanted me to come, hear his band, I would grab a take-out meal from a fast food place as I walked over to meet him, and wait out on the sidewalk, for him to let me in the security entrance of the building. Darren popped up, right away, so many times, and so many places that I went, it was obvious, to Joe and I, that it was too much to be--- that many!--- coincidences. I just kept on ignoring him, wishing that he would stop. It was so annoying. Because, of it, I did not ever feel like I had any privacy. When I was living in the downtown apartment building, when he was still, initially, acting like a friend, and not a skulking stalker, he asked me once in a conversation, if I realized that the rooftop of the restaurant next door was right across from my bedroom window, and that people could go up on the roof, and look in there! Not only, had I NOT, ever thought, about that, but I was afraid to ask him HOW HE KNEW THAT. [When I moved into the loft in the Old Market (because, I got it for about half price, on a rent special, that I happened to come across, while walking in the Old Market, one day, and seeing the sign; and it was a great location), Darren would go over to the parking garage that was facing my apartment windows, and look in, from there; although, he wasn't the only guy that did that, unfortunately. Other times, he would just stand around, underneath my apartment windows. Especially, on a nice day, when, I had the windows open.]

One Autumn afternoon, when I was sitting on the couch, up in my apartment, just reading a magazine, and relaxing, before work, I suddenly heard this, weird, type, of echoing voice, in the otherwise perfect quiet I had been enjoying just moments

before. I could not figure out--- WHAT, on earth!?!--- that WAS, but it was coming from outside my building. Going over to the window, and looking down toward the street, I saw Darren, sitting in his police cruiser. He had driven it right up onto the sidewalk, just beneath, my apartment windows, and was using his bullhorn, in the car, to CALL UP TO ME, saying, through it, "DEBORAH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" It was, bizarre! It was creepy. It was intrusive, and disturbing. I stood there, looking down, trying to decide, what, if anything, I should try to do, about it. At first, I sat back down on the couch, trying to resume what I had been doing, before this, and I hoped he would JUST GO AWAY. He called up to me, AGAIN, and AGAIN, on that bullhorn, though, and I was really starting to wonder, what all the neighbors were THINKING ABOUT THIS, and HOW MANY of THEM were now, ALSO standing there, at their apartment windows, SEEING THIS COP and HEARING HIM CALL UP TO ME on this POLICE BULLHORN! I was CRINGING, at this point. Pissed off, now, I went downstairs and out the front door of the building to confront Darren about it, but, as SOON as I GOT THERE, he drove off, when he saw me. Proving, he was simply HARASSING ME, and not even trying, to start a conversation, with me, with doing this to me. He was ASKING, "Deborah, what are you doing?" but he obviously did not want an answer to this question, that he had taken a BULLHORN to ASK ME. I went back upstairs, to my apartment, but, about 10 minutes later, HE WAS BACK, and DID IT AGAIN! This pattern repeated itself about 5 times! He would call up to me on the bullhorn in his police cruiser, I would try to go outside, to confront him, and he drove off as soon as he saw me. This is not someone WANTING TO KNOW what I am DOING. THIS, is NOT, someone doing some 'harmless' FLIRTING. THIS is a STALKER, REPEATEDLY HARASSING THEIR TARGETED VICTIM, for some SICK PLEASURE that they DERIVED FROM DOING THIS to a private, law-abiding citizen that was sitting alone in their HOME RELAXING and READING, before THIS began.

This JOKER was making my life MISERABLE! Some people, try to blame the victim of rape, which is also a crime, by focusing on what the person that was raped was wearing. NO OUTFIT CAUSES RAPE. While, I had originally done some, superficial, flirting, with Darren, WHEN HE'D WALKED UP TO ME (AND MEN, I WAS ON DATES WITH at the time), during the years that I was 'Stevie' I did that type of harmless flirting with, 99% of the men, I encountered; from the guy that I wanted to make a customized pizza for me, at Zio's, to the horse-drawn carriage driver, that I was chatting with as I sat listening to a street musician in the Old Market while he was waiting for a fare. I DID NOT HAVE 99% of the men, that I interacted with, in this vivacious and sociable, although, sometimes, slightly nuanced way, STALKING ME. There is frequently an undertone of sexual energy, between men and women that are interacting with one another. We are different genders. There is an awareness of that fact that none of us can deny, which, I daresay, usually affects the way we approach and deal with one another. At least, to some extent. If the flirting that I did with men during those years was an invitation to, or a reason for, stalking me, I would have had HUNDREDS OF MEN doing that, to me, instead of JUST this COP.

Also, because Darren did so MUCH of this, for so LONG, and I kept trying to make sense, of it, if only to be able to live my life, more comfortably, with some degree of RECONCILING MYSELF to THE FACT OF IT happening to me, in an ongoing way, I asked, some of the dancers, that I worked with, what they thought, was causing it, and we all ended up thinking that he knew, he was 'the runt of the litter' of the cops, on the beat, and that--- just like, a little boy, pulling the pigtails, of the girl, sitting in front of him, in class-- he, probably, had a crush, on me, and 'acted out' in how he showed that because he very likely had poor self-esteem. In some way or other, he had to have measured himself, against the guys he worked with, and found himself lacking, whether it was his build, his prowess, or even his baldness. Some men feel very inadequate, simply because of their hair loss. One day, when  I was in the Old Market, which was like, a micro-community, in itself, including, it having, a very active, and rapid, GOSSIP 'grapevine' going, someone came up, to me, and said, "Did you hear, what just happened to Darren, about an hour, or so, ago? He was over in the park, and confronted a woman, who was sitting there on a park bench, smoking a joint, . . . and (they started laughing, at this point) she, just looked at him, completely calmly, and stood up, and BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF HIM! Can you BELIEVE IT?!" When I caught sight of him not long after I was told that, he was sitting in a chair, close to the old couple that had an ice cream shop, on the corner, in those days, looking very sullen, and suddenly, not so sociable. I thought, he looked, just like any little boy, that ran home, to mommy and daddy, after the neighborhood bully beat him up, and took his ice cream money. KARMA.

Because he CONSTANTLY HARRASSED ME by STALKING me, for SO MANY YEARS, I developed a specific strain, in my neck, from looking back, over my shoulder, all the time, to, more often, than not, see him there, watching me, and following me. There are COUNTLESS MORE EXAMPLES, of these things, that he put me through, JUST BECAUSE HE COULD. When I took my trash bag to the dumpster behind the apartment building Darren pulled the cruiser up into the alley so close to my body that he PINNED ME between the car and the trash bin. I had to sidle sideways, to get myself free, while he just sat there, in the driver's seat of the car, laughing at me. Another time, I was walking back, to my apartment, after spending time with some friends, in the Old Market, and he jumped into his cruiser, just as I left, that area. As I rounded the corner, and was, almost, to the front door, of where I lived, he suddenly drove the police car, OFF the STREET, right up ONTO THE SIDEWALK, nearly hitting me, before stopping, and just sitting there smirking, as I fled inside.

This was, very psychologically mind-blowing behaviors, to me. So, one day, trying to overcompensate for his bizarre behaviors toward me, in a failed attempt to get him to stop doing this, to me, I went up to him, and told him that I thought that I loved him. I never did. I resented him, and I feared him now. I was tormented by him. But, somehow, in my attempts to comprehend why, this was happening, and what, I was going through, with this person, some, mental, juggling, of the actual facts happened in my head. There's a quote that was applicable to this nightmare which has been attributed to several sources, including the book 'The Art Of War', which this certainly felt like, to me. THIS was a war with this stalker, that I hadn't wanted, to enter into, at all, in the first place. It was a war, for MY LIFE, and even  for MY SANITY. I had become, willing, to pledge my affection, to this creep, if that was what he was after, in order to have, some semblance of a 'normal' life, again. That, saying, is, "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." I even had to get drunk to be able to articulate that to him. I had been wrecked by all this crap. When I told him that, it didn't stop the stalking. It didn't help me understand why, EVEN AFTER THAT, Darren KEPT DOING THIS TO ME. It just HUMILIATED ME even further, because, HIS REACTION to THAT, was to literally LAUGH IN MY FACE, and TELL ME THAT I WAS CRAZY. THAT part was TRUE now, but HE DROVE ME THERE.

If you have (been lucky, enough, that you have) never gone through this--- being stalked, as I was, relentlessly, for over a decade, of my life, just by, this one man, then you may not be able to grasp, all the complexities, and mental maneuvering, that take place, in the victim's head, simply, in a, desperate, attempt, to reconcile the reality of this unwanted 'relationship' with the other parts of oneself and one's life. I remember, when Patty Hearst, was kidnapped, many years ago, and people, could not comprehend, WHY she ended up carrying a gun and helping her captors commit crimes! That was, the first time, I ever heard, anything, about 'Stockholm Syndrome'. This blog post is already quite lengthy, and frankly I am tired, now, as writing all this, about my life, in these posts, is very challenging, for me, mentally and emotionally (since, I have to, in effect, go back in time, and RELIVE, all these things, in order to be able to describe them here, now). It is VERY TAXING for me. So, I will give you the definition of that, and if you wish to Google it, and research it, for yourselves, you may certainly do that. I'm a fan of lifelong learning. Here it is: 'Stockholm Syndrome', is defined as "feelings of trust or affection felt in many cases of kidnapping or hostage-taking by a victim toward a captor." I believe that is what happened to me, toward this mental abuser, this monster, THIS COP, that was STALKING me, day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year. Disrupting my life, destroying my sense of peace and privacy, affecting and, interfering with, my real life relationships. I was CONFINED; like A CAPTIVE.

I remember standing in the park, one, summer, afternoon, just listening, to a live band playing, when a nice-looking man came up to me and began trying to get to know me. But, Darren, was standing there, nearby, as an ever-present 'threat', to my freedom to JUST BE 'ME'. He was watching me closely, and by that time I was completely under the mind control of his actions, regarding me. He had imprinted me, psychologically, to be 'his', in some sick way, and I didn't want him coming at me with the police cruiser up on the sidewalk again, or pulling his bicycle between me and this nice man who was trying to talk to me now. I felt totally controlled by Darren. I felt panicky, seeing him, see this man, trying to talk to me. So, I turned  to this man, and said something that was the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of what I was ACTUALLY FEELING. I WANTED, to meet, a NICE guy, and maybe have, a healthy, happy, relationship, in my life! But, by then, my mind and emotions had been, so conditioned, by Darren, that I didn't think I was ALLOWED TO, BY HIM. The silent stalker, that followed me, EVERYWHERE, ALL THE TIME, but, had also, laughed in my face when, beaten down by it all, I finally approached him to try to determine if a real relationship with me, was what he was actually after. I had really wanted to talk, to that man, in the park! Instead, seeing Darren, standing off to the side, straddling his bicycle, watching me closely, I turned toward him and with a, crazy sounding, desperation, in my voice, I said, "I AM JUST HERE, TO LISTEN, TO THE MUSIC! LEAVE ME ALONE!" He, rightfully, looked shocked at my outburst, and he backed away, from me. Darren smirked. I had said to that man, what I had really wanted to say, to this stalker cop. Only, after so long, I knew, that, it was no use. He had shown me, convinced me, BRAINWASHED ME, that he would, never, stop.   

So, it wasn't even about, him liking me, or wanting me to like him. He was just a monster! I, finally, ended up turning him in, to the Internal Affairs department of the Omaha Police Department. The, female, sergeant who looked into my written complaint about Darren doing this to me called me up and simply said to me that he was called in, and asked if he did this, and that he said no. She said that as if, of COURSE, a COP, wouldn't be LYING, so it MUST BE ME, and so, END OF STORY. It was so frustrating and insulting. Of course, he didn't stop, even after I filed the complaint about it. It just emboldened him, even more, because he was believed, and free to go on his merry way making MY life MISERABLE without suffering any of the consequences, for his (illegal) actions. His behavior, and their, backing him up, just based on his word, when I had been willing to make my complaint about  it IN WRITING, created, a mental meltdown, for me, at that point. I KNEW, that I was NOT IMAGINING any of this. I KNEW, it was the TRUTH. That, I was TELLING the TRUTH! But I was tired, stressed, vulnerable, and not only, being stalked, but gaslighted*********, as well. Tragically, I sank into despair over it all as I began to question, my own reality, and my ability, to deal well, with whatever, that even was. I did end up, moving away, as far west, as I could go, in Omaha, and still be able to access the city bus system which I used to avoid all the expenses of a car.  I had loved everything about my life, in the downtown/Old Market area that I had always lived in, but I felt that I had to leave it all behind including not even going there, to visit my friends, or go on dates, because of Darren ruining it by stalking. I GAVE IT ALL UP, to get away from him, because I couldn't deal with it, anymore. 

Because of Darren, I had to leave behind, my favorite apartment, when I moved, as well as all my friends, and support system, in the downtown/Old Market, area, that had been home to me, for decades. Even after I left everything, that I cared most about, behind me, just, to get Darren, out of my life, I ran into a co-worker, of his--- another cop--- one day, at my new job working as a retail clerk in a mall department store. I was wearing my store name tag which this guy saw on me. I cringed, wondering if he would say something to Darren about where I was when  I had, deliberately, disappeared, and left, everything, behind, that, I cared about, in my, former, life downtown, just to get him out of my life! Not long afterward, I was walking in the food court of the mall where I worked, during my lunch break, and someone suddenly stepped directly in front of me, nose to nose, blocking my path. I had been looking down, as I walked, but I saw their feet suddenly appear, in my path. Stopping short, in mid-step, I looked up, to see who had done that--- thinking it was a co-worker or friend trying to startle me out of my daydream as I walked along. But, it was DARREN! Just standing there. IN MY FACE. Smirking, at me. I turned, and fled, and went outside, trying to escape him, again. Soon after, this happened, a police cruiser began parking over by the weeds that were beside my apartment complex, that I had moved to. I always liked to live close to where  I was working so I could come and go easily on foot no matter what my schedule was. So, the place I had moved to, when I moved away from the Old Market, due to Darren, was directly across the street from the mall, that I had gotten a job in.  I'd never seen that police car, sitting there, before seeing Darren in the mall, that day. I did not know, if it was him, or whether, he had, changed precincts, once he (obviously) found out where I had gone. I did not look right at the cruiser. I never knew, because, I NEVER WANTED TO KNOW. What, I DID know, was that, I could not, mentally, and emotionally, cope, with going through that, with him, again. Of course, there is ALOT MORE to this and MUCH MORE than I can cover in (even my LONG) blog posts. But, this is a very good overview of the situation. I will need to continue to explain in future posts how all this led to my becoming a prostitute for a short time. This, post, just laid out, the foundational, background, for all of that. 

[NOTE: As I was sorting stacks of old papers and pictures, in October of 2022, to get rid of more of them now, due to space limitations, I found a photo (below) of the actual officer that this post is about. The very one that stalked me, for years. It is not a very clear photo, but I think that it is the only one that I have of him.]

* community policing - the system of allocating police officers to particular areas so that they become familiar with the local inhabitants.

** gold lame - a type of fabric woven or knit with thin ribbons of metallic fiber
     

*** voyeur - someone who obtains sexual gratification from observing unsuspecting individuals who are partly undressed, naked, or engaged in sexual acts; broadly: someone who habitually seeks sexual stimulation by visual means

**** The TV character, Barney Fife, law enforcement officer: 

***** Jaywalking - Jaywalking occurs, when a pedestrian walks in or crosses a roadway that has traffic, other than at a suitable crossing point, or otherwise in disregard of traffic rules.

****** Pension spiking:

Pension spiking

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Pension spiking, sometimes referred to as "salary spiking", is the process whereby public sector employees are granted large raises, bonuses, incentives or otherwise artificially inflate their compensation in the time immediately preceding retirement in order to receive larger pensions than they otherwise would be entitled to receive. This artificially inflates the pension payments due to the retirees.

Upon retirement any employee transitions from receiving a paycheck from the employer to a pension check drawn on the assets of the retirement fund; this amount is typically determined as a percentage of the employee's regular salary by state law or statute. When an employee due to retire receives a "spike", the amount of money the employee will receive does not reflect the percentage of salary the employee and employer haves contributed for the majority of the employee's career, and places a burden on the economic viability of the pension fund. This practice is considered a significant contributor to the high cost of public sector pensions.

******* Gaming the system:

Gaming the system - Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org › wiki › Gaming_the_system

Gaming the system (also rigging, abusing, cheating, milking, playing, working, or breaking the system, or gaming or bending the rules) can be defined as using the rules and procedures meant to protect a system to, instead, manipulate the system for a desired outcome.

******** Stalking:

WHAT IS STALKING?

The term “stalking” means engaging in a course of conduct directed at a specific person that would cause a reasonable person to fear for his or her safety or the safety of others or suffer substantial emotional distress. https://www.justice.gov/ovw/stalking

Stalking is a crime. It is an offence under the Crimes (Domestic and Personal Violence) Act 2007. Stalking is defined under this law and includes:

‘the following of a person about or the watching or frequenting of the vicinity of, or an approach to a person’s place of residence, business or work or any place that a person frequents for the purposes of any social or leisure activity’.

Stalking involves a persistent course of conduct or actions by a person which are intended to maintain contact with or exercise power and control over another person. These actions cause distress, loss of control, fear or harassment to another person and occur more than once.

Stalking can involve threats or sexual innuendo and the stalker generally tries to intimidate or induce fear in the person they are stalking. The person being stalked may only realise they are being stalked once they identify a pattern of strange or suspicious incidents occurring, such as:
phone calls
text messages
messages left on social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter etc.
notes left on the their car
strange or unwanted gifts left at their home
an awareness that they are being followed
being continually stared at or gestured to by another person.

The person being stalked can often develop a sense of loss of control over their lives and can be forced into changing their routine and behaviours.

https://www.police.nsw.gov.au/crime/domestic_and_family_violence/what_is_stalking

I NEVER, KNEW WHY, Darren DID THIS, TO ME, and for SO LONG. It GREATLY and NEGATIVELY impacted my life. The, following, article profiles the different types of stalkers, and attempts to, shed some light, on why, each one behaves as they do:

https://www.stalkingriskprofile.com/what-is-stalking/types-of-stalking

********* gaslight - manipulate (someone) by psychological means into questioning their own sanity.