Stalked

I've been a little bit under the weather the last couple of days, not sleeping well, dizzy, queasy. If I had a boyfriend and was 15 years younger I would wonder if I was pregnant. I'm definitely not!

After the glorious experience of Shabbat, all manner of sad news came my way. I have heard awful stories this week, including the news about the neighbor who was beaten severely (who is now squeezing his wife's hand after multiple brain surgeries), about a wonderful, long term client whose life has turned upside down and inside out, about a friend's cat who just suddenly died.

On top of that, the woman who was stalking me has returned in full force. Until last week I hadn't heard from her for a few weeks. I thought I was free. But no. The thing about stalkers is that they don't quit. To her, the aggressive and unwelcome behaviors, the texts, letters, gifts left on the front porch, are all wonderful things to do, things that will convince me that we can be dear friends for life. The woman stalking me can not take it in that all her efforts are a monumental waste of her time.

Here's the text I sent to her today after receiving a long letter in which she suggests we get mediation from a professional. Mediation? This text is almost exactly the same message I've sent her time and time again. I wouldn't even bother, but the social worker and lawyer who have advised me say it's important to document my repeated attempts to get her to bugger off. So I say it over and over. It's clear as a bell, yes?

I can not help you.

You are mentally ill.

I will not meet with you under any circumstances. You can not convince me to do so no matter what you say.

If I see you close to the property I will call the police.

STAY AWAY FROM ME.

She immediately texted that she meant no harm and would not approach the house, but she did approach the house last week, banged on the door, left a bag of expensive jewelry that I put out on the sidewalk straightaway. Even worse, I think, is that she got one of my bartender buddies at the Matchbox to text me, suggesting I come down to the restaurant. That is despicable! And she has no idea. She is very troubled.

Oh. I am so bugged by this. I would publish her name but there could be legal ramifications from that, I am told. Maybe I should contact her spouse. Or keep trying to just take big breaths and let go. I'm trying.

And I wonder why I'm feeling slightly ill? Good lord.

Looking forward to my massage this week, to seeing the Sufi acupuncturist. May the stalker turn in another direction. May she seek the help she needs.

May I let go of the stress around this. May it be so.

Shalom.