the opposite of
It's the capacity to understand that every war is both won and lost. And that someone else's pain is as meaningful as your own."
When I first became a permanant resident of Ruidoso, NM, back in 2006, before I knew what gang-stalking was or that "TAG!", I was "IT", I couldn't believe the changes I observed in the demeanor of the people here. All seemed so very grim, unwelcoming and uninviting. It was downright scary.
I went to the local police department to ask what was wrong and was told by then Lieutenant Gore that it would take more than 10 swat teams to clean up the methamphetamine trafficking in this town and we just didn't have the manpower.
I thanked him for the information and pondered what that meant for a long time thereafter.
I hadn't used recreational drugs since 1982. I lived a fairly quiet life-style in places where drug-use was kept under wraps. I didn't read the paper or watch the news. I didn't realize what was going on right under my own nose in my own house here in Ruidoso or that I would eventually fall prey to it for a time, also.
It took me two years to get the majority of the people my ex-husband had in my house gone. I didn't hate them; in fact, I was fond of some and I still am. But, like ferrets, though they are adorable, the damage they do outweighs their charm. Plus, it seems people didn't like me then - and insofar as I can tell, they STILL don't like me (which tells me I'm doing something right).
I didn't find out about my ex-husband's slander campaign or the gang-stalking until much later. That's not to say I wasn't told about the gang-stalking, but just as it sounds like crazy-talk to non-participants and non-targets when we try to tell our tale of woe, it sounded like crazy-talk to me, too.
I tried to listen, but I just couldn't hear it.
Much time has passed and with it, too much muddy water under the proverbial bridge, so much that I'm surprised the bridge is still standing.
No one is getting any younger, no one is benefiting save for a moment's cheap thrill of the kill and nothing has changed, except now I know:
》What happened to me
》What it's called
》Who did what
》Why they did it, and
》Who is still doing the gang-stalking.
Those of us who are aware we are targeted are indeed aware of what's happening to us and how the gang-stalkers go about doing it. Therefore, even if the stalkers still get away with it, their OPs are not so covert anymore.
Targets are talking and beginning to fight back.
Still, because the majority of my stalkers are tweakers and I am their target for seven-plus years, I couldn't help but observe the effects of the drug over time.
In my humble opinion and hard-won experience, people who use meth for many years, especially intravenous users, lack the ability to empathize. Therefore, they are either not cognizant of the pain they inflict on others or they feel nothing and do not care who they hurt or how much they hurt them.
Too, over-indulgence in the drug can cause a user to present with meth-induced psychosis, which can be devastating to the addict and others. Usually the psychotic episode ends as the drug wears off, but sometimes it doesn't go away or is triggered by memory, much like Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), even if the drug is no longer used.
What you have then is someone who sees, hears, tastes, touches and/or smells someone or something that is very real to them, but in reality, isn't there and ain't happening.
However, a person having no empathy is, to my mind, much more disturbing and dangerous because while psychosis is apparent and more often than not subsides, there is no indication a person cannot feel your pain...
....until, that is, a situation arises wherein they do not react accordingly, with common consideration, courtesy, kindness and a good, old-fashioned dose of human sympathy thrown in for good measure.
No one is perfect. Everyone is inconsiderate or unkind at times. Some folks are born gruff.
But, I have witnessed complete personality changes in people I've known for years (my ex-husband being one), whereupon the nice person went South, vacating the premises without warning, and a mean-spirited stranger moved in and set up shop in their stead.
The less obvious cases are more alarming: The person is warm and loving one moment and, without provocation, becomes a hateful, raging Leviathan the next.
Is it live or Memorex?
Perhaps only their hairdresser knows for sure.
All I know for sure is: A lack of empathy, the inability to learn from past mistakes, an over-blown sense of entitlement to appropriate things unearned and/or belonging to someone else, feigned remorse with no real regret and acting WITHOUT CONSCIENCE are all personality traits indicative of psychopathic behavior.
Coming to this conclusion answered another question I posed to Dawna, the police advocate, several years ago after checking the stats regarding the number of psychopaths in Ruidoso.
Per capita, our allotment totaled 90; but, I was told there were approximately 200 known psychopaths in the area and whereas they are commonly Lone Rangers, here they opted for communal living. My question was, "Why?"
There was no answer forthcoming.
Now, i believe I may have hit upon the answer, though I wish I never had the experiences I've shared herein this blogspot that have prompted me to answer my own question.
Long-term methamphetamine use kills the Dopamine receptors in the brain that produce feel-good feelings, such as joy, happiness, peace and contentment, and it deadens the areas of the brain that trigger feelings of sympathy, empathy and caring for others, too.
In essense, meth creates monsters out of some long-term users; they become psychopathic people who do not care if you live or if you die.
This means that any place rife with methamphetamine and it's users is suseptible to becoming a Town Without Conscience, because:
a) It's users may lose their ability to care, and should this happen,
b) The non-users may grow too afraid to show they care or stop caring altogether as well.
I don't blame people for fearing to show they care. I've been crucified because I wear my heart on my sleeve. But, I see myself becoming more selfish, too.
If no one cares or people fear extending a helping hand lest it gets bit off at the wrist, one hasn't much choice but to fend for and keep to one's self. I've been told to do this many times; very early on in fact. But it's just one more concept I haven't been able to wrap my brain around, though I think I've got it now:
The Mutant Future is upon us!
The drooling zombies are here!
"Run, Forest, run!"
Or, if you are a gang-stalking target, like me, stay put among the devils you know, have no friends and TRUST NO ONE.
(Citations to come)