For years I was genuinely stalked by someone who convinced me there were cameras in my house.
Over time, that experience changed the way I interpreted the world around me.
Eventually I became convinced that my life was somehow being monitored on a much larger scale. I thought meme pages were secretly making jokes about things I’d done, that films such as Simone (2002), shows like Baby Reindeer and Supacell, and even song lyrics were referencing my personal life.
Every coincidence felt intentional, and every connection felt impossible to ignore.
One of the biggest turning points was hearing rap artists mention names, situations and references that seemed to line up with things happening in my own life. Instead of finding it exciting, it terrified me. I couldn’t understand how people I’d never met could seemingly know details that felt so personal, and I became convinced something much bigger was happening behind the scenes.
As time went on, I believed I’d uncovered a huge secret and that people were coming to hurt me because I’d figured it out.
One night I stayed awake hiding every knife and anything else I thought could be used as a weapon because I believed people were coming for me. I also became convinced that members of my family had already been captured and were being hurt. Looking back, I think seeing my dad assaulted by the man who stalked me in real life blurred together with everything else I was experiencing.
That night ended with me seriously injuring myself. I survived, but it completely changed my life.
Looking back now, I can separate some of the real events - such as the years of stalking - from the conclusions I drew afterwards.
When you’re living through something frightening for a long time, your brain can begin connecting dots that aren’t actually connected, and at the time those connections can feel more real than reality itself. The mind is fragile, and when under prolonged stress it can eat you alive.
It’s one of the most bizarre and frightening things I’ve ever lived through.
Ask me anything.