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I am sitting in my bedsit looking out at the trees which are like a small woodland at the back of this beautiful house in Harrogate.  I have scarcely left my room in the last fortnight. Occasionally I have to come out to buy food.  I love Yorkshire and the people. This is a beautiful town with beautiful people. I am happy here. But being happy is not enough. You also have to be safe.

I am a Targeted Individual. At the moment it appears I am a targeted individual who is being targeted for being set up for a crime/s I have not committed. Everywhere I go in Harrogate and also Knaresborough its equally beautiful sister town, people know me and think they know about me. But they don’t know they are being told lies.

At the start of this year I shared a flat with my husband. He was dying of cancer.  He had first had cancer 6 years ago but after we moved to Harrogate his cancer came back, with a vengeance. Multiple including his brain and bones.  We were getting 5 star medical help until the start of this year then it all seemed to go into reverse. The District nurses started arriving unexpectedly and diving through the door without knocking. They arrived in pairs.  Bill’s daughter would hang around so long that Bill had to invite her to leave because he was tired. And so was I. I could only rest when Bill rested. But more alarming still was when Bill had dramatic medical symptoms and the response of the medical people was inert.  On one medical checkup the medical person said that no air was going into one lung.  I did not think anything of it as she did not react nor say anything. But Bill said a look of alarm passed over her face. One morning Bill seemed to have a kind of blackout, a fit. A nurse arrived almost immediately and she called the doctor who arrived shortly with another nurse.  Then they discussed with Bill who was only coherent half the time whether he should go to hospital or stay at home. Bill kept trying to lift his right hand and kept saying, look, I can’t lift it. I waited for a medical conclusion but there wasn’t any. So I looked up Bill’s symptoms on a medical diagnostic I had on my computer.  One lung waterlogged is a sign of heart failure.  The fit Bill had matched the description of a mini-stroke. At the same time his feet and ankles swelled up. That is a sign of heart failure in the other side of the heart.  He needed to take diuretics to reduce the water logging. Also he needed other drugs to help heart function. Because his breathing was distressed he needed oxygen.  Oxygen deficiency not only left him in a continuous state of panic, but at times he became extremely irrational, uncooperative and abusive – like a man who was extremely drunk – because not enough oxygen was getting to his brain.

Admittedly he was dying, nothing could have extended his life. But I believe he experienced unnecessary extra suffering in his final two months because he did not receive the right treatment for his conditions.  There is no reason why he could not have had the appropriate drugs and an oxygen supply to make him more comfortable at home, not occupying hospital space.

When Bill died I did not want to stay in the flat without him, also I could not afford the rent on my own, so I found a bedsit.  When I was shown the house, there were 14 residents.  All the flats and parking spaces were occupied.  But when I moved in it seemed that most of the previous tenants had moved out and there were others. Their names were different and unlike the previous tenants they were not locals. The car park at the back underneath my window now sported BMW’s, Mercs,  executive cars.  Not what you associate with bed sit life.  And every few weeks the people in the house and the cars would change.  I started to take photos of the cars at the back, but as soon as I did that most of those cars moved out and were replaced by a few cheap cars, what you would expect in a bedsit house.  Except for one executive car which was parked under the eaves where I could not see it from my window.

After Bill’s death I received a letter telling me about a pension. I was a bit bemused.  Bill had left a list of his financial resources to help sort out his estate, but he hadn’t mentioned this one.  I found it hard to believe that Bill didn’t know about it as he always gave the impression of someone who knew exactly what he was worth. But when I received a letter from the HMRC I was reassured.  After all they would know everybody’s financial situation. But I still wasn’t happy. I went to the Yorkshire Building Society where I had an account and made an appointment to speak with a financial advisor. She was very nice.  She could not throw any light on the mystery pension, but she also seemed to know more about my relatives than I had mentioned and also not relevant to that particular discussion.

I used to go to the library a lot to use their computers.  The reason I stopped going was often a child would come and sit directly beside me – even though there were lots of other free spaces and this was in term time and during school hours.  Once the same child with a younger one passed me in the street just after I had left the library.  In a shop I passed a group of school children ( also in school hours and term time) hanging about the freezer. As I passed one of the boys suddenly stepped back bumping into me He apologised, I nodded and moved to walk on, but he stepped in front of me saying, no really I am sorry.  To an onlooker this could have looked as if I was engaging the boy in conversation. And then I realised that a child had been moved into the house.  In another shop at the checkout a member of staff came over to talk to my checkout girl. She turned to me and said – did you read the report in the paper about those gypsies kidnapping that child? The new people in the house now look like gypsies.

I am only human. I can’t be in two places at once. When I am shopping or otherwise out of my room I have no control over who might be in there or over what they might do.

Yesterday morning very early the fire alarm went off. I did not believe there was a fire so I stayed put. I wondered if someone was trying to manipulate a photo opportunity of me standing beside the child in the house outside. It turned out there was no fire.

So I stay in my room. If I don’t go out it is harder for others to manufacture evidence  about me, or use my presence to stage events which reinforce the lies told about me.

So reader, I appeal to you. Put yourself in my position. What would you do if people were telling lies about you to everyone you met. How do you stop people entering your premises when you are not there. How do you prevent children being in your vicinity. How do you protect yourself from being framed? Any advice would be welcome. Thank you.

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