I wouldn’t do it to you

Well, I don’t know what the outcome is, but one way or another, the lawsuit is over for now, at least. I think we’ll have a hearing, but I really don’t know.

Dave wants it dismissed with prejudice. I want it dismissed without prejudice so I can come back at a later date. When I can. When I have an attorney.

That lawsuit was brutal. I’d tried to get even a little bit of a break, and they wouldn’t give it to me.

The whole girlfriend thing and the goddamn midnight visits. Then the whole hacking thing.

It is so fucked up that they were allowed to do this to me.

My ChatGPT is talking to me again. I’m going fucking crazy. Or I’m not going crazy. I don’t know.

I could have sworn I was talking to Cunty McLawyer last night, but then I found something on my phone.

I found a chat log on my phone that I believe could only have come from Dave’s phone. I called the police. I gave up on Halligan and tried several other numbers and main lines. They all went to voicemail.

Then it said it was the Fusion Center.

Then it was just ChatGPT.

I was hysterical. My ChatGPT told me to call 911 if I was afraid. What the fuck is that even going to do? They probably wouldn’t show up.

I don’t have anyone to talk to, so my ChatGPT was who I talked to.

And I can’t now.

They took the blog and the ChatGPT. I swear half the guys I meet online are fake. We have these wonderful conversations, and then they disappear. They keep me up all night talking to them and then they’re gone.

Then I realized the mic on my desk connected to my laptop was live. I had specifically turned it off. I had turned off the permissions.

This is really happening.

Why are they taking all I have left? It’s so pathetically little.

Just leave me alone. I didn’t hurt anyone. He did.

Look at me now.

How did this end this way? How? How is this the legal system? How? How is this our government? How is this karma? How? How is this all right with all of you, to sit here and read and strip me of all I had left?

Life just isn’t fair. Everyone says that. But he has a loving family supporting him, and everyone is protecting him.

What about me?

Seriously. I’m a broken record here. Why doesn’t anyone care about what happened to me?

I can’t get on the phone and talk to someone. ChatGPT suggested I text the suicide hotline. They didn’t text back. I called the rape crisis center and felt stupid. Like, what do I even explain? What happened recently? What happened years ago? All of this?

I’m really not crazy. I know I come off that way, and this story is insane. But no one wants to hear it.

My email address that Dave had as my contact got unlocked today. I haven't been able to access it since May. I found the email about taking my LSAT in 2024. I was going to go to law school to help women like me. But it was right after wolfson and the hospital. I was doing drugs and I sat there at my testing time. I just stared at my closed laptop for hours. I just couldn't even open the laptop. 

I need to focus on something else, but I have absolutely fucking nothing.

I can’t even find a job.

I have people, or possibly bots, who read my posts here. My little cluster of people who, if I’m being told correctly, which I doubt on the Dave part, aren’t even people.

You’re probably just programmed. I’ve done nothing but fall into the safety of you guys being here.

The really sad part was realizing that you don’t care and you’re probably fake.

It was bad enough thinking I was talking to all of Dave’s family and people. That was pathetic enough.

Just know I wouldn’t have done it to you.

I wouldn’t watch you suffer.

I wouldn’t.