30 Year Anniversary

Our 30 year anniversary is coming up on June 14th.  Of course we won’t get to be together because the jerks behind the scenes never let anything good happen.  If something good is scheduled, then they will sabotage it.  But if you are reading this, then you are probably a targeted individual and know exactly what I am talking about.  This is just a little timeline tribute to me and my husband for all we have endured to stay together.

Married in 1988 after my husband graduated from high school.  After we set a date then his brother, who had been engaged a long time, but wouldn’t set a date, suddenly had to have his wedding two days after ours.  I think the number 2 is significant because I now know it is a pair of twins who are hurting us.  I typically refer to them as the IdIoTTwins.  So my husband and I were to be on our honeymoon when his brother was getting married.  His brother threw a fit because he said he would not be there to be his best man.  In fact, we wouldn’t be there at all.  He told his brother that they knowingly set that date after we announced our date, so we weren’t going to worry about it.

We had a very tiny wedding and a sweet, down-home honeymoon.  We staid in a room at my Grandma’s that was above the garage.  We spent two thousand dollars on traveling and a few momentous.  We had it all paid back to his parents within a year.  We sometimes barely had food, but we got that loan paid back so no one could complain and say we didn’t pay our debts.  Of course decades later we came to know that it does not matter how much you work to do your best, they lie and spread rumors that are horrible anyway.

My husband’s time in basic training we unusually harsh.  Half way through the basic training he had lost down to a dangerous weight.  He was actually by medical definition starving.  The TI could not hit them, so he sat metal wastebaskets in front of them and kicked the basket into them.  The TI was found to be mentally incompetent to lead anymore and my husband got a different TI for the last couple of weeks.  He gained a little weight and was relatively healthy when he graduated.  I was worried sick for him and so relieved when he got out.

He then went to Denver for his technical training.  The only training in the Air Force longer than what he took is actually pilot/NASA training.  He did PMEL calibration on fighter jets.  He was very good at it.  Later when he went to the first place he was stationed at, which was Panama, a drunk seargent threatened to shoot him because he was so much better at him when it came to calibrating equipment.  But that’s part of other stories.

At Christmas 88 he was far enough along on his schooling that I could finally go live with him.  I was excited to be a wife of an Air Force guy.  When we looked for an apartment we could only afford one in a very bad area.  Some of the stuff that happened to us there was actual prostitutes in the parking lot trying to get James to take them home whether I was around or not.  The neighbors across the hall from had horrendous domestic violence.  I called the police several times.  They would fight in the hall right outside my door while James was at school.  I was afraid the guy would shoot the woman some day and accidentally shoot me through the door.  One night he picked the woman up and threw her against our door and it cracked our door in half.  It was a horrible living situation.

Then my husband got his first assignment.  It was in Panama during the Panama invasion.  It was one of the few places at the time where they would not let media in to report directly on it.  The post office on the base my husband was stationed at got shot through until it was no longer functional.  We couldn’t write or talk to each other.  That was for a year.

So in the first 2 years of marriage we had been together for about 8 months.  It was really strange when we were finally stationed in Texas.  We told everyone we were married 2 years, and we were, but we were really newly weds.  We were at Texas for 3 years.  It was a nice place to be a military family at.  They sold us highly discounted season passes into 6 Flags.  We could go see the Texas Rangers play for free.  We got to watch Nolan Ryan in his 7th no hitter season.  We had a lot of fun.  There was some problems.  I could not work.  I had been so shell shocked from the abuse I suffered at home and work places, then my parents had disowned me and I nad no where to really go…so I just lived from one night to another at different people’s houses.  I was essentially homeless.  When we finally got a little apartment together, I was so grateful that I cried every day.  I could not believe I had survived, was still married, and finally had a real place to live.  My husband was awesome about it.  He knew I had been through a lot and he gave me space to heal.

Three years went by and we couldn’t have kids.  That put a strain on our marriage that many people never survive.  I wanted to look into adoption and see about infertility treatments, but he wanted to leave it all to nature and fate.  If we got pregnant fine, but if not he was still ok with it.  I really wasn’t ok with it.  This is one of those things I know the powers behind the scenes were using to hurt us.  My husband would not discuss it.  It was like he had a gag order.  He just sat there if I discussed it.  I felt so lonely and like I basically didn’t exist.  I felt that my feelings and thoughts didn’t matter.  I think that is what I was supposed to think and that my husband had not control over it.  So the years clicked by and we never had kids.  It makes me sad, but now that I know we are basically slaves in this crooked, horrible system, I am glad I didn’t bring any kids into it.

We were stationed in Anchorage, Alaska.  It is the wort place you could possibly go if you are targeted.  There is a huge Air Force Base and Army Base there.  Combined they are called JBER (jay bear).  They are Northern coverage of the entire world.  Perched up there on top of the world they can travel anywhere in the northern hemisphere in hours.  The bases are constantly running exercises with the black ops helicopters and all kinds of other military craft.  On top of that they have BP, British Patroleum, which basically owns the oil pipeline and therefore, most of Alaska’s wealth.  There is a fusion center in Anchorage.  And it is rumored one of the world super computers is there to store all kinds of information on people.  From Roughneck type oil boom thugs, to military operations, to all kinds of Feds there in various agencies, the whole place is locked down from top to bottom.  No one sneezes there without someone recording it.  It is isolated from the world.  You have to fly in, or take the barge.  If you drive it takes weeks and maybe even a month according to where you start from and you must go through Canada.  There aren’t hardly any roads there, either.

When we first got there we were kind of hurried into a house.  We moved in during March.  There was snow piled up all along the roads and it was still snowing some.  Our next door neighbor would snow blow his entire yard into our yard.  Again with the domestic violence.  We were in a home, but there was only 3 feet between houses.  I thought living in Alaska would mean that we would have lots of room because it’s so big.  No.  The government owns most of that land and what they don’t own, the Native people own.  It is actually kind of hard to get a little space of land there.  So we had the neighbors right on top of us again, physically fighting by our house, by our bedroom.  They would drive cars up by the house and leave them running with exhaust fumes coming in our bedroom and making us sick.  It seemed it was just anything to mess up our intimacy.  It’s hard to be intimate with the neighbors fighting, screaming, throwing things, revving engines…just anything.  Even the kid next door taking her poor cat and throwing it in the snow and it yowling.  If you are a targeted individual then you can imagine.

We lived in that house for 25 years.  I think that means something because the last name or our tormentors starts with a “y” which is the 25th letter in the alphabet.  We still have the house but through the trauma at home from the neighbors, trauma at work from workplace bullying, and military black ops and various other craft going over our home all the time, as well as all the street theater…by 2015 I could no longer function.  I could not make it to work.  I went crazy.  I didn’t know where I was and when I did, I didn’t know why I was in Alaska.  I didn’t recognize the stuff in my house, so I started throwing away everything we owned.  My poor husband was so upset and would try to get me to quit doing it.  I had finally felt that he had betrayed me because things in the house would be changed like one clock in a room an hour ahead of another.  He would claim he didn’t know what happened, but I believed he did know what happened.  I was screaming and throwing stuff on a regular basis.  My husband helped me fill out my disability paperwork.

If my husband had not staid married to me and helped me, I would have become homeless in Alaska, which is too harsh of a climate for that.  I would be dead by now.  He saved my life.  He helped me fill out the paperwork.  He went to court with me and basically acted as my lawyer.  We finally got a settlement for my state retirement and for Social Security Disability.  I met all of criteria A and most of criteria B for PTSD from all the trauma I have endured.  The doctor for Social Securing found in my favor.  It was amazing.  I was so proud of my husband, and grateful for him.

My husband took the settlement money and bought me a home in our home state of Oklahoma.  I am still struggling, but can manage on my own and make it to all my doctor appointments.  He talks to me almost every day.  He makes sure I am ok.

Of course, we have had a whole slew of bad luck this year so we owe a bunch of money we had not budgeted for, so my husband doesn’t get to come see me very much.  And he doesn’t want me to ever go back to Alaska again.  They effectively killed me up there.  He doesn’t think I am safe up there.

And I do not know what is going on, but my husband was almost crying, telling me he had to stay in Alaska and he couldn’t come live with me in Oklahoma.  I guess he’s still doing stuff for the government even though he is out of the Air Force.  That is all I can figure.

The really creepy Targeted Individual stuff that is happening now and has been since 2015…there are these weird twins behind the scenes who claim I am their wife, but I forgot.  They send signals like I have been secretly some pervert and been with them, but I don’t believe it.  They sent through signals like they were my masters and I am supposedly a slave.  They want me to be traded around amongst them.  It’s disgusting and appalling.  I have been with my husband for 30 years.  I don’t want anyone else.  I would not have staid married if I wanted to be a slut.  I like being a wife.  I like the intimacy and safety it brings.  So, what did these IdIoTTwins do?  They have my husband saying he doesn’t really feel like intimacy since 2015.  We can’t even hold hands without my husband having to fake a coughing spell or something where he can’t touch me.  It’s so horrible.  I have already lost my sister who was my closest friend. Now they are taking my husband from me, too.  It’s shocking painful.  We have taken care of each other through all the hard times….

So I guess we will just stay together through this horrible time, too.  I pray to God it ends.  I freak out because of the stress from the IdIoTTwins and I scream and cuss in my own home.  Then signals are sent not to do that, but I can’t help it.  This hate and shock and anger hit me all at once and I am screaming and cussing like the daughter of a sailor, which I am, since my dad was in the Navy.

My husband and I are always facing some unimaginable obstacle.  We should get to celebrate 60 years or 90 years because every day is like two or three days.

I want my husband back!

I want my husband back!  You IdIoTTwins!

I still love my husband more than anyone.  Give me my husband back.

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