Explanation For Posting Email Records

I'm done posting some of these emails for now.

I wanted to show that I remember things correctly and prove what was going on right before I discovered Christa was a rat, and after horrible things began happening to my son.

I wanted to document my son's extraordinary giftedness, because I kept constant and accurate records and others were also amazed by him.

But someone was jealous, and someone was also worried about lawsuits, or just hated me, and my son and I were, I believe, permanently damaged with hacking and seizures and the speech loss my son suffered from a magnetic pulse and who knows what else--brain damage from childbirth?.

I kept telling doctors it wasn't normal that my son's speech unravelled into gibberish when he was speaking very early and very well before. The doctors in Wenatchee pushed me aside claiming kids don't speak sometimes until age 2. I told MY SON was DIFFERENT, and he HAD been speaking early and then he tried but wasn't able to, sometime after he turned one.

I was also asking several people for help, because bad things were happening, and I knew my son and I needed protection. No one listened, and no one put me and my son into a protective custody like witness protection.

As a result, we were seriously injured, and then I was accused of NEGLECTING my SON and having a breakdown when I did NOT have a breakdown and it is clear NOW what really happened.

I had warnings about my life right before things happened. It wasn't a woman in military intelligence who warned me--it was a man. I just wrote in my email to others that it was a woman to conceal identity.

Finally, yes, I was sending email to these enemy lawyers, because I was trying to find out who the snitch was who leaked all my information with court matters all the time, and I thought it might eventually come out. Instead, I found out Christa was one of them. Even after the wedding shower, I didn't email about my suspicions with her game involving Karin, because I believed my computer was monitored. Finally, I got fed up, and when I started showing signs that I was onto HER, that's when all the health problems started. It was horrendous.

The first thing that happened was my son and I got hit with an extremely severe blast of vomiting and severe stomach pain. It was not like the flu. I got it and my son began vomiting right after. It was the worst uncontrollable stomach pain I'd ever had and I thought it was food poisoning. This is when my son was separated from me and Dr. Butler saw my son. Within a week of the vomiting, my son's speech had disintegrated. It followed from the vomiting. And then both my son and I began having benign muscle fasciculations and heart arrythmias. Then we moved to the orchard and the seizures began and the computer problems were severe.

I believe I was under investigation or surveillance around this time, by some law enforcement or intelligence agency. I believe the FOIA records must be obtained and an investigation must be done of the FBI persons I've named, as well as medical professionals in Wenatchee, Christa and Dick Whittemore, and probably some kind of gang or Mexican mafia that I somehow offended. Maybe Bujanda was on their team all along. I had too many break ins, threats, mail problems, missing emails (only ones from the FBI) and things going on. Someone within the FBI could have used outside gangs to do their dirty work.

Right after I reported the number 13 billiards ball, the Wenatchee police mocked me, even though other hispanics believed it was the mark of a gang, "La Eme", the Mexican mafia, which used the color red and the number 13 for their signature. Following this, I had massive vandalisms to my car. My windows were broken several times, and just one tire would be slashed the next day after windows were broken. Then my friend Nacho was killed. I had mail vandalisms and someone put in a forward of my mail by forging my name and I gave the evidence to police and the Post Office and they did nothing--I found the writing matched that of a worker at the Post Office. I had police tell me to move but I didn't know where to move to. I had already moved from Oregon to Washington and to no avail as the same stuff began to happen, and there were witnesses in the neighborhood who made statements on my behalf.

The email from the FBI that was missing, and which I had sent, asking for FOIA, and from THEM, in NYC and Portland, writing to me anonymously from a field office--all of that disappeared, including my attempts to contact the SSAs who initially did an investigation. I began to be pulled over by Wenatchee and county police for no reason at all, and my car searched and then they'd say they weren't going to cite me when I loudly protested they had illegally pulled me over and they knew it.

(you know what, I just remembered, Christa only wanted me to use Yahoo mail for my email and not any other accounts. I wonder why.)

I got more and more warnings of my life and son's life being in danger, and I wrote to many people, for protection, and no one listened or offered help. I wasn't paranoid--someone or some group WAS "after me" and my neighbors all thought so too. They never had the same car vandalisms and property damage. It was at this time that the state began to force me from going to Seattle for medical things, because they knew I was getting diagnostics and looking for a Seattle lawyer. I was kicked out of housing and the state lied to me, and this is when I discovered Butler was lying about a lot of stuff and just handing me narcotics but not doing diagnostics to find out what the real source of my pain was.

I faked and pretended, by sounding cheerful and oblivious and a little eccentric, naivite when I had worsening suspicions about Christa but I kept writing as if nothing was wrong, and wrote to others about her too, in a nonchalant way, because I believed I was under surveillance and what I wrote was read by others; I was also TOLD by the military intelligence guy who had several retired CIA friends in town, that I needed to pipe down and start writing about innocuous things because I was in danger of being killed.

No, I wasn't killed. My son and I were tortured instead and someone knew how our health was affected by it. On the same day I went to the hospital with my son, vomiting and in stomach convulsions and cramps, I saw several other people in the ER with the exact same symptoms, retching into buckets. I figured it was food poisoning, because this was far worse than "flu" and it only lasted about 12 hours, except for residual stomach pain, and I saw it happened to others that same night. But my son's speech disintegrated after that, so I questioned what had happened in the other room when he was with Butler, and I also questioned later the possibility that several people had been, randomly or not, targeted with a gang exercise in trying out a new weapon, using a strong magnetic pulse or something else. I didn't know. All I know is that my son's speech problems became that very same week, and they developed quickly. I suppose it could have been a severe pesticide poisoning, because there was a plant somewhere around that time, that sprayed toxic stuff or had an accident but I didn't know. All I know is that this is when my son had an immediate reaction to SOMETHING, and it wasn't "me". I didn't go from being a devoted and loving mother for many months, to neglecting my son and causing a speech problem within a week. Something else happened. I also considered my son had had an aneurysm because of after-trauma from brain injury, but no one would do diagnostics of my son. By the time Butler saw my son though, I had left his clinic and was looking for a lawyer already.

I played along, online, about having no problems with Christa, for a long time, and then after she asked me if I was having "hot flashes" when my son and I were having benign fasciculations, I froze up. I already knew what she had done with Karin, and knew she had been the one to leak information when I had lawsuits. But now she was asking me what way I least wanted to die (over the phone) and wanted precise details, and then after that, she asked if I was having "hot flashes" and she didn't even attempt to hide her animosity, and I didn't talk to her. I told her over the phone I'd decided against sending her a copy of my book for her to edit and I told her I didn't want to give her all my rolls of undeveloped film (which had photos of her) becuase I was afraid they would get lost in the mail. Really, I was just onto her. So she figured it out. One of the last strange things she freaked out about was when I told her I had written an email to someone about making a sandwich and I'd spelled it wrong and I laughed out loud. She got EXTREMELY weird and kept asking defensively, what made me bring "sandwich" up? I said, God, what is wrong? I didn't mean anything by it--I was just talking about food, and she answered, in a cold voice, "Right." like I had been trying to give her a hidden message I knew something. It was totally bizarre.

After this, and her interrogation about my preferred way to die and my least favorite and after I said torture and something happening to my son would be far worse than death, and she said eagerly, "yeah, because then you'd have to live with it," the problems with my and my son's health began and the computer problems began as well. I didn't imagine anything. It all happened.

My attempts to reconcile with my family after what they'd done to me and my son already, and their cold approach towards Oliver, were a drastic attempt, by me, to be peacemaking. Yet they continued to refuse to want to even see Oliver or be involved in his life, and my parents kept telling me not to move next to them and I was offended. I then told them about the health problems and they didn't believe me. I told them I was getting a lot of warnings to leave or die, and I didn't know where to go, and they just didn't think it was possible that I had any enemies. When the problems got worse, I turned my back on them because of the hurt and disappointment, once again. But it's not like I didn't try.

I wasn't isolated socially, contrary to what CPS claimed. I had communications with cousins and others and they were concerned about CPS's actions. When I began describing what was actually seizures, no one knew what to think, but I suffered and my son suffered, and the computer and electronics and phone problems really happened at the same time, and finally, desperate and extremely ill physically, and noting problems with my son's speech still, after he was showing signs of what appeared to almost be genius, I tried to leave the country.

The disabled man who made a comment about my son was right. People would be jealous of my son.

I suffered because of jealousy and hatred of others, and my son suffered as well, because people knew he was showing signs of brilliance and was special. They wanted to make me pay and went after my son, and I predicted this to British intelligence and others, over a year before it began.

My son could have been saved if someone had listened to me and offered protection. To this day, he is not the same. He went from showing signs of genius, noted by many professionals, to being far behind for his AGE group (not to mention he was practically retarded when compared to how he had been before), and then his improvements since then have been minor and he still struggles with speech. My son's brain was affected, and no one would do any examination of this, although Canada thought it was NECESSARY and important to rule anything out.

Canada knew, as any normal and logical person does, that before one may ASSUME there is a personality disorder (in me) or a sign of neglect (in my son), diagnostics have to rule out other potential causes. Wenatchee went to great lengths to refuse and claimed it was "invasive" to my aunt, when it is NOT. It is necessary.

First Wenatchee claimed there was "nothing wrong" with my son, and then after they found out Canada disagreed and believed my son was refused proper treatment, THEN CPS in Wenatchee decided to try to blame ME for the problem, and ignored the fact that I was the one repeatedly standing up for my son and insisting he had developed a new problem with speech.

I'm going back to bed for now, but I can't sleep. I know what happened, and other people are going to figure out I didn't have any "delusions". There were witnesses, and someone is going to come forward for my son. Maybe not for me, but they will take pity on my son and come forward.