EelKat Wendy C Allen - Dark Fantasy Author


UPDATE March 17, 2021: Another death. Waiting for a coffin to be delivered. Funeral the 21st. Unlikely to be streaming for a few weeks.


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Update: March 27, 2021: It's not even been a week since the funeral, and now there is another death and another funeral.



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UPDATE April 5, 2021: There are still no streams, as, we've now a another (a 3rd) funeral to prepare for.


And that is now 3 deaths in our family, in the past 2 weeks.


This 3rd death hits hard, because it was Pippi.


Our family has now had 13 deaths since March 2020.








April 10, 2015, 12 children were kidnapped.

May 15, 2015, the heads of 10 of them were nailed to my door.

August 24, 2020, one was found still alive. he was just 4 years old when she was kidnapped, but she remembered us, even though 5 years had passed.

August 25, 2020, Pippi came home, but her condition was not well. She had been tortured the entirety of the 5 years she had been held hostage. She was missing limbs and covered with scars, had broken bones many years not set, and suffered serious damage to many of her internal organs. That she was alive at all, in her condition, was a miracle. Doctors had little hope of her survival and she was sent home with Hospice care.

Pippi had cancer in her eye and needed surgery for it, which she was scheduled to have, shortly before she was kidnapped.

In the years they had her, not only did they torture her, but her cancer went untreated and spread to her brain.

By the time she was returned to us, her cancer had reached an inoperable state, so we knew she did not have much time left.

Had her cancer been treated, back when she was a toddler, she probably would have reach adulthood.

She died only 8 months after her return.

Another child, to cry out from the grave, for Etiole's vengeance upon her murderers. Another victim of evil men, who will stoop to no ends, to bury the crimes they committed 50 years ago.  Drug lords. Opium growers. Heroine dealers. Selling little girls 4 to 8 years old for sex to priests. They only care about money.

All hail the mighty tourist ass. Millions come to Old Orchard Beach every year, for one thing and one thing only: heroine. They sell their drugs to the tourists under the pier and off the balconies of that giant motel. Than drag little girls to the bedrooms of the condominiums on Smithwheel Road, behind the school. And any child who dares open their mouth and beg for help, gets tossed in the GooseFare Brooke Ravine.

Bastard drug lords. They've been doing this for 50 years, and the town hall and the police department, turn a blind eye to it, because they get paid $6million a year to not report it to the newspapers, when the body of another child washes down the ravine, into the gulley to be spit out in the ocean. No fewer than 5 bodies are found every summer, but how often does it get in the news?

The corruption of this fucking town needs to end.

Yet another dead at the hands of these criminals who run our town.

How long will the residents continue to turn a blind eye to what is happening in our town.

How many more children will you let them kill, before you stand up to them?

Another child is dead and no one in this town cares. So long as they get their money from the tourists. The blood of another murdered child screams from the graves, begging for justice. Tick tock, tick tock, so begins, yet another of Etiole's 7 year clocks.

This is why there were no/to few streams from May 2020 until now.

May 2020, after 4 years of not hearing from them at all, the FBI returned with a lead, which led to Pip's discovery a few weeks later in August.

Because of the nature of the situation, I could not talk about it, to tell you why streams had stopped.

The kidnappers, were enraged that we had recovered Pip, and that is when the attacks started up again on my home and family September 2020.

Pip's condition continued to grow worse, and she died April 5, 2021.

She was only 10 years old.

This is what it means, to not be white in America.

White men, won't even give a child the chance to grow up.

This is what white people do, to none white families like mine.

We are Gypsies with Jewish blood, for that alone we are hunted like animals.

What the men of Old Orchard Beach, Maine, did to my family, will never be forgotten or forgiven.




#If you have any information on the kidnappers or the murders...


#FBI Agent Andy Drewer out of the Portland, Maine FBI office is in charge of the of the April 10, 2015 kidnapping of my 12 children by 14 Ku Klux Klan men who invaded our home and the subsequent May 15, 2015 murder of 10 of the 12 whom had their heads nailed to my front door. If you have information about the case, give it to him not me. He can be reached @ +1-(207)-774-9322 


Have you forgot the extent of the damage these people did, all because, they wanted to dig up my land and removed bodies buried there, before my house builders found that barrel of bones?

Have you forgotten that 7 town hall workers, 5 public works men, a blond woman, her bald son, and her red haired sister Kendra, and 14 police officers, all lead by a man they referred to as "Mark who needs no last name" were the ones 

I name every one of them, except for the ring leaders: blond woman, her bald son, her sister Kendra, and her husband "Mark who needs no last name". I don't know who those 4 are. I'd never seen any of them, other than the Kendra woman before, and I only knew her fro her attacks beating me up at Panera in 2009, 2010, and 2013.

I can name every one of the others, because all I have to do is go to the Old Orchard Beach town hall and police department website, and their are their faces.

With the exception of blond woman, her bald son, her sister Kendra, and her husband "Mark who needs no last name", every one else involved was government official who works for the state of Maine vis the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall, the Old Orchard Beach Police Department, or the Old Orchard Beach Public Works.

And what exactly did they do?

August 8, 2013 they drove a backhoe over my house. That same backhoe drove over my previous house on the same land April 2007. That same backhoe drove over my poultry barn and horse stables July 2001. July 2001 was the first attack.

March 2015 was the the massive attack, with an entire fleet of trucks, and drove over the Church of the Holy Rhinstone, a church that stood on my land, my garage which is why I no longer have a garage to put my car in, my 2 sheds both of which had my tractors and other garden/crop machinery in them at the time. And of course the razing of the land, the cutting down of the apple orchard - the VERY apple orchard planted in 1530 that this town was named after... he actual "old orchard" of Old Orchard Beach... the very original trees - huge massive apple trees over 400 years old. The grape vineyards, the cherry trees, the pears trees. 

April 10, 2015, they returned, 4 police officer held me a gun point, while 10 other police officers held my children down with long poles with metal wire strangle loops on the end, and beat their faces in with cinder block bricks, knocking out every one of their teeth, breaking their jaws... POLICE OFFICERS DID THAT... while men they referred to as "Mark who needs no last name" and "Dan" stood there and told the police officers what to do, how to beat them, while "Mark who needs no last name" boldly bragged that he paid the Old Orchard Beach police $6million dollars to do this.

May 15, 2015... the heads, hands, feet, and intestines of my children were nailed to my door. Later that same day police officer W. W. came to my home begging for forgiveness and claimed that men he referred to only as "Mark and Dan" were holding his beloved mother-in-law hostage and torturing her, and he helped in the April 10, 2015 attack, only to save her life and get her back. He claimed he had no prior knowledge of what was going to happen, claiming that he'd been told they were only going to "scare" us. He said he had not expected anyone to get hurt, he had not known my children would be tortured and kidnapped, he had not known they were going to be murdered. He said he was scared for his life and lives of his family. And he said: "They form a small army, our department doesn't have enough man power to stop them, and every one in this town is too scared to fight back. You don't know what's going on. And I think they mixed you up with someone else. They didn't know you were the owner of this land. They didn't know that was your motorhome. They thought someone else owned this place. It wasn't even your family they were after. You were the wrong target. You don't know who these people are. What they've done to our families. This is the actual Mafia. The real deal. I'm so sorry. This is the address they sent us to. But they had a different name as the owner. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were after someone else. I'm so sorry. I couldn't let my family died. And now yours is dead instead. This wasn't supposed to happen."

June 19, 2016... I did a very specific livestream. You see... A., D., B., and T. in the 1970s and 1980s, were in the habit of dragging big black trash bags into the forest, crossing my land to do it, and dumping those bags into the Goosefare Brook Ravine. In 1983, 3 snuck into Etiole's swamp and planted 3 acres of Marijuana. Someone found it and called the police, I don't know who... it was Maine's largest drug raid for decades. Many, many millions in plants where dug up and removed from Etiole's swamp. A few weeks later A, & D,s 10 year old daughter ran into my yard, touched my car on a dare from other children - the 1964 Dodge 330 former Old Orchard Beach police car, known by Stephen King fans as the REAL Christine, The World's Most Haunted Car... than jumped her bike, and sped down the road, as fast as she could, head on into a car coming the other way. She died instantly, he brain shattered all over the end of my driveway, and her mother A responded by the Battle of 458 - the biggest mass shooting ever in Maine history, that ended up with 3 Gypsy clans and 2 police departments, in a shoot out between 70+ adults all armed with guns. One of my cousins, an 8 year old boy, standing 3 feet from me, had his eye shot out by one of the bullets. While A ran around the street screaming: "FOUR! FIVE! EIGHT!" than shot another child. 

"FOUR! FIVE! EIGHT!" than shoot another child. 

"FOUR! FIVE! EIGHT!" than shoot another child. 

THOSE are the 31 children, whose bones were sawed up and tossed into the GooseFare Brook Ravine... yes, that DOES mean, police officers KNEW those children were there and covered it up.  And I witnessed that entire event.

And THAT is WHY... when police officers murdered my family in 2015, I did a livestream, walking to the ravine, to show the world, where those bones were... because I'm sick and tired of the police corruption in this fucking town, and those sawed up bones of 31 children are PROOF of what this town government is like.... as are the heads of my children that were nailed to my door.

At the end of The Battle of 4-5-8... A. took 2 gas cans and poured them all over the big dome house, than set a match to it, and no one knew, why when she did her brother B., started running, jumped in his robin egg blue truck and backed down the driveway, hit Portland Ave doing 70 and didn't stop driving until the high speed chase caught him in CT... oh but we knew before he was out of sight, why he started running... the dome house went up like Hiroshima into a mushroom cloud that could be seen across the entire state... turns out there was a Meth lab in that house.

June 19, 2016... the livestream of the bones went viral, it's what made my YouTube channel suddenly explode overnight... and police officer W.W. upset, by the fact that, the livestream included the entire police call and response, and that response was to laugh and do nothing... fed up with the corruption in his department, he forwarded that livestream VOD to the FBI, and the FBI arrived in Old Orchard Beach, to dig up the Reclaim Blueberry Plains, and all hell broke lose in this town, as most of the police officers suddenly found themselves arrested. An entire new police force from out of state was brought in to replace the long time officers who had proven they could be trusted to uphold the law. Many town hall officials and public works employees also found themselves arrested by the FBI.

June 26, 2016... barely a week later... the blond woman and the red haired Kendra woman showed up at my workplace, Scarborough WalMart, and tried to kill me, yet again... these are the same 2 woman who attacked me with golf clubs at Southern Maine Community College November 14, 2013... they left dead in 2013, I was paralized for 5 months. It took me 18 months to relearn to walk. I was out of the wheel chair, and I was without a walker, I was without a cane. I had almost fully covered from their November 14, 2013 attack with golf clubs... June 26, 2016, this time they attacked with shopping carts, and I'm now crippled for the rest of my life. They shattered 3 vertebra this time and it can't be operated on. I had to relearn to walk a second time, and I'm not yet recovered now in 2021. In 2013 they drove away in the 4 door white pickup truck. In 2016 they drove away in a gold Volvo SUV station wagon.

That blond woman and her red haired Kendra sister, they are wanted by the FBI for attempted murder of me and they are also wanted in questioning for being suspected of also being the murderers of my children.

I don't know who these 2 women are.

The blond woman shows up my driveway frequently, screaming and yelling, sometime accompanied by a small child, about 5 years old, that she pulls behind her in a red radio flyer wagon. She looks to be about 60 or 70. She often wears a denim button down shirt and jeans. She's prone to yelling at passing cars, while pointing up my driveway, and saying: "There's EelKat, she tried to kill my husband."

I've never tried to kill anyone, so accusation is baffling at best.

She seems to think I know who she is, and has made the claim, that "I was that brat in school"... the red haired Kendra woman, sometimes with her, claims to be her sister, also appears to be 60 to 70 and also seems to think I know who she is, and frequently says: "You bullied me in school, but no more, I'm Kendra SilverMander it's my turn to shine."

They BOTH make the claim they went to school with me, and yet, I never went to school, a well documented fact... because I'm the child the FBI rescued what the news media called "Maine's House of Horrors". I was locked in a cage when I was 8 years old. I was let out on Sundays, to go to church, and not allowed to speak or make eye contact with anyone, and this was only done infrequently, whenever church goers asked what happened to that girl you had". I was 31 years old when the FBI arrived, because of Heaven's Gate having killed 39 people, and my uncle being one of the members and self proclaiming himself as the leader of Heaven's Gate after Applewhite's death. The FBI was investigating the murder of 39 people in California, and had no idea they'd find children in cages in Maine as a result.

So you see, when the blond woman and her Kendra sister, make the claim they went to school with me and I was the class bully who beat them up, this is easily proven false, because the time period when I should have been in school, I was locked in a cage, being tortured by my sadistic uncle Bruce.

Also, they are in their late 60s to mid 70s... making them older than my parents, so how could I have been in school with them, even if I had gone to school? At best I would have been starting pre-school the year they would have been graduating high school.

These things they say about school, only further agrees with what police officer W. W. said May 15, 2015, when he made the claim, they had gotten me mixed up with someone else.

July 2016, a month after the shopping cart attack... yet another Old Orchard Beach police officer arrived, this one accompanied by 2 Biddeford officers, who had been former OOB officers... these 3 officers, had a vastly eye opening story to tell me.

They had been called to Old Orchard Beach, to my farm, to arrest me, a call made to them, by a man named Mark, whom one of these officers, claimed was his brother in law. This Biddeford officer, said he requested to transfer ot of Old Orchard Beach department years ago, because his sister (whom he claimed he suspected, but could not prove was the blond woman whom had attacked me at WalMart) was quote "trying to control the town" he said "treats Old Orchard Beach like a dynasty, thinks she's a duchess, has severe mental disorders, and thought she could buy the police department". He went on to say, she got in with the real Mafia years ago and went to her head, and now she thinks she IS the Mafia and most of Old Orchard Beach's business owners, especially the motel owners are scared shitless of her, because they believe her claim to be Mafia. He went on to say, she's not Mafia, but she's good at convincing people she is and stated "I wouldn't murder beyond her. She'd do it just to prove she is Mafia." He said he transferred out of OOB department to Biddeford department because he was fed up with how easy it was for her to get every officer to do anything she asked. He said "the corruption in that department runs deep; don't cross her or any officer she controls; they WILL kill you and every around you. You don't know who her husband is. He doesn't just control that town, he controls half the state."

What he was telling me was bizarre on extremes, but even more bizarre was the live feed radio call, that he had me listen too, as it was happening, on my farm in Old Orchard, while I was at my dad's house in Biddeford.

He said: "The Old Orchard Department called me, asked me to come over here. Buddy Will wanted to prove you were not in Old Orchard and that Mark has you mixed up with someone else. That fucking bastard is crying wolf and trying to frame you, we can prove it right now. We are fucking fed up WolfBoy."

He turned on his radio, so I could hear. A what I heard... a man whose voice I do not recognize, yelling at a Officer W.W. and saying: 

"That is Wendy, arrest her now! That is EelKat. She tried to kill me."

While officer W.W. and another officer, told the man: "his isn't Wendy. We have officers with her right now. Who tried to kill you? Wendy? Or THIS woman right here?"

"This woman right here! This is EelKat I tell you! Arrest her! What do you think I pay you for! You aren't allow to defy me! I own this town! You are my slaves. I command you to arrest her!"

W.W.: "This isn't EelKat. This isn't Wendy. I've known her for years. And right now, she's on the other side of the state. With 3 officers, listening to you right now. You are NOT the law. We've had it with you. You don't own me. And you've mixed her up with someone else. You've been harassing the wrong damned person. You dare call us about Wendy ever again, and I will personally arrest you for false reports, than I'll tell them everything. You'll never see the outside a prison for the rest of your life when I get done with you. You fucking leave this woman alone. You destroyed her life, because you couldn't tell her apart from someone else."

I used to aqua jog, mountain climb, horseback riding, and I hiked 13 miles a day. And in the blink of an eye, that lifestyle was taken away, and every day was struggle, just to sit up and breath, with no hope of ever walking again. I defied doctors. It's been 8 years and I can move around the house by holding on to things and I now can walk again, at the moment only short distances outside with a cane, and the hope is to continue to improve. I still have a long road of recovery ahead. But I'm walking again, something that 8 years ago, doctors said would never happen. 

My farm was razed.

My family was murdered.

I was 5 months paralysed, and had to relearn to walk. It was 8 years ago and I'm not yet fully recovered due to 3 inoperable vertebrae and hip dysplasia. November 14, 2013, 10PM, at WalMart, while putting bags of groceries in the back seat of my car, I was attacked by 3 rapists armed with metal golf clubs, who left me parallelized, in a wheel chair, broken spine, broken hip, broken pelvis, broken knees, serve nerve damage to my left side limiting the use of my left hand, my bladder incontinent from nerve damage, they left me for dead, and I had doctors telling me I would never walk again.

There's more that has happened. A lot more. The thousands of gallons of sewage they pumped into my motorhome in 2015. The cats. the Ptarmagin cats. World famous groups of cats. You remember them. If so, you remember what these people did to those cats. Poisoned. All dead the same day. 12 cats. Dead to what the vet described as: "enough poison to kill a great dane". My horse, she had her head beat in with a rock. My bantam roosters... 70 pet roosters, hung by their necks in rope nooses in my rose bushes.

All because this man, this mystery Mark, whose last name seems to be known to the police but is still unknown to me and man whom I've never seen or met - he keeps his face covered whenever he shows up... mistook me for someone else... and police officers and town hall workers and public work employees.

Welcome to Old Orchard Beach... this is NOT the way life should be, you know it.

What these people did to me, should never have happened, and according to the police, it's been happening for 50+ years to hundreds of people, hundreds of families, in this town, and every one is too scare to talk about it or fight back to stop it. That NEEDS to change.

The corruption in our town, needs to stop... but it won't end, until every last person who is being harassed by these people stand up, put their foot down, and say enough is enough, we ain't gonna take this any more.

We the people of Old Orchard Beach need to take back our town.


NOTE: Chat is set to emote only on my Twitch channel and my personal contact information has been removed from my website and every place else, due to the HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS of false reports of "information", along with vile hateful memes about the murder of my family being sent to me by trolls who think mocking the murder of my family is funny.

FBI Agent Andy Drewer out of the Portland, Maine FBI office is in charge of the of the April 10, 2015 kidnapping of my 12 children by 14 Ku Klux Klan men who invaded our home and the subsequent May 15, 2015 murder of 10 of the 12 whom had their heads nailed to my front door. If you have information about the case, give it to him not me. He can be reached @ +1-(207)-774-9322 



If you could recommend I watch one VOD that best represented your channel, which would it be?

This one....




The Princess Bride predicting Covid-19?

Avallac'h's a Good Tutor?
Of What? How to Better Bed Kings?


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Schizophrenia

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Some Thoughts on Writing About Mental Illness in Fiction
From an Author Who
Lives With Mental Illness
and Writes What She Knows

What inspired you to use a mentally ill person as your main character? 

How do you pick what mental illness to write about? 

Should I write incest in my stories?

How do you make sure you get your character accurate or true to life when dealing with mental illnesses?


Creating Characters With Mental Health Issues:


What Qualifies You To Write About Mentally Ill Characters?

Because nearly every main character I write suffers from one or another mental illness, a common question I receive is:

"So, how do you research for (name of character, usually Roderic)? You must be a psychology major or something right? I know somebody with these mental illnesses and you are right on with a lot of the stuff (name of character, usually Roderic) does. People with Autism really do ____. People with Schizophrenia really do ______.  I'm amazed you get this stuff so accurate. So are you like a psychologist or something? What do you write about your patients? ha ha! So what qualifies you to write this stuff?"

No.

I'm not a psychologist. In fact I never went to school.

My inspiration and research for Roderic? I was removed from school at age 8, I was told I would never be able to live on my own, get a job, drive a car, attend college, or function as a meaningful member of society.

I write what I know.

I have both Autism and Schizophrenia; later hit my head and developed new issues from that; and then later was the witness to an event that left my 5 best friends in a pile of body parts, which resulted in my having PTSD. And I had Agoraphobia for nearly 10 years.

Speech is very difficult for me. My verbal words are desperately slurred and stuttered and go from either way too fast or way too slow. Most times I know what I want to say, but the words that come out of my mouth are mixed up and in the wrong order so sound like nonsense. Folks often consider me "dumb" due to my being near-mute and desperate lack of getting words out in the correct order. I write 7k words a day just as part of my daily non-verbal speech. That is how I am able to pound out 15k a day during NaNoWriMo every year.

It is very frustrating when I want to talk to someone and they pat me on the head and say something like: "It's okay, here have a candy. Poor thing she can't understand us at all."

Roderic speaks in the same quasi-non-verbal muddled up speech I do. Roderic's dialouge is a blundered mes because my verbally spoken dialouge is an embarrassingly blundered mess.

Roderic is very shy and self conscious and terrified of how others will respond to his lack of ability to speak verbally in any real coherent manner, because I am very shy and self conscious and terrified of how others will respond to my lack of ability to speak verbally in any real coherent manner.

Roderic AND his flamboyant drag queen son, Etiole, wear long flowing, bright colored, gaudy, heavily beaded and embroidered silk robes, because wear long flowing, bright colored, gaudy, heavily beaded and embroidered silk robes.

Etiole drive a great big orange 1964 Dodge 330, because I drive a great big orange 1964 Dodge 330. Etiole was born September 23, 1664, because I bought my 1964 Dodge on September 23, 1975.

Are you starting to see a pattern here?

I write what I know.

I write what I know. And I know Autism, Schizophrenia, PTSD, and Agoraphobia very well.

The world as the reader sees it through Roderic's eyes...that is the world as seen through my eyes. Roderic is an accurate portrayal of someone with Autism, Schizophrenia, PTSD, and Agoraphobia, because he is written by someone with Autism, Schizophrenia, PTSD, and Agoraphobia. I know how Roderic would react to things, because it is how I react to things.

The Dazzling Razzberry? Roderic's son's car in the book, the one covered in quotes and beads and rhinestones? guess what, it's a real car and I own it. It's my daily driver, and here's a picture of what a car with 2.5million beads, buttons, marbles, and rhinestones glued to it looks like.

The nightmare world that Roderic lives in every story, is the nightmare world I live in, every day. I don't do any research into anything to write Roderic, I just write the world the way I see it.

My advice to other authors on writing characters with mental health issues is limited ONLY to Autism, Schizophrenia, PTSD, and Agoraphobia because I have Autism, Schizophrenia, PTSD, and Agoraphobia. I can advise other authors what it is like for a character to live with either Autism, Schizophrenia, PTSD, and/or Agoraphobia because I live with Autism, Schizophrenia, PTSD, and Agoraphobia and thus I know what it is like to live with Autism, Schizophrenia, PTSD, and Agoraphobia.

My advice to other authors regarding writing a character with either Autism, Schizophrenia, PTSD, and/or Agoraphobia is not based on an formal study or research, nor is it wide spanning across the wide and varied spectrum of each. There is no medical lingo nor will you find any  "I believe they much feel ___ because I have observed them doing ___" talk. I am not a doctor or psychologist or psychiatrist and I couldn't tell you heads nor tails of all their medical mumbo-jumbo-speak. My advice is simply the perspective of one who lives with Autism, Schizophrenia, PTSD, and Agoraphobia and I tell you simply what it is like to see the world through my eyes. Nothing more, nothing less.

There are many types of Autism. More than 75 different illnesses are listed as "being a type of Autism". I only have one of them. While 1 in every 9 children is born on the Autism Spectrum, the type of Autism I have is the rarest form and has had fewer than 300 cases ever diagnosed world-wide, that is 1 in 266million, so even if you know someone with Autism, chances are pretty high, you don't know someone with m type of Autism. I have Schitzotypal Aspergers (which IS NOT Asperger's Syndrome, please do not confuse Schitzotypal Aspergers with Asperger's Syndrome! They are VERY different.) Chances are also high that if your character has Autism, they will NOT have the same type of Autism as me. Please keep this in mind when considering my advice of writing a character with MY TYPE of Autism. I do not advise you on writing a Autism character in general, rather just the type of Autism I live with and how it effects my every day life.

There are many types of PTSD. Again, I have only one of them. Doctors debate on what specifically caused my PTSD. There were multiple events involved: at the age of 12 I became to obsession of a Mormon high priest who declared God had told him I was his wife and I was basically little more than his sex slave from the time I was 12 until I was 27. Being one of the wealthiest men in town, my parents looked the other way and completely ignored my pleas for help. Money talks louder than love, I learned that at an early age. No one cares about you when they can have money instead. 

At age 14 I was the only surviving witness of a mass murder that left my 5 best friends dissected alive and cut to pieces, I stopped talking during the 6month long court trial and would not speak again for another 15 years. The high priest would be my only human contact after the murder of my 5 friends.

I had a miscarriage at 16, which the high priest, to this day continues to deny due to the fact that he is 30 years older than me and values his holding a "Temple Recommend" over taking care of the emotional well being of the child he raped. Why does the LDS Sanford Ward give this man a temple recommend and allow him to remain a priest after what he did to me, I do not know.

At age 17 it was the high priest that  took over full control of my life and refused to allow me to drive a car, have friends, or leave the yard except to go to his church. He was extremely obsessive and possessive and I was his prisoner. Isolated from all humans except the sex crazed high priest, I began taking in every stray cat and dog that entered the yard.

The Agoraphobia set in at some point after that. I spent the rest of my life living in a swamp in the Ross Forest in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, with no electricity, no running water, no phone, no toilet, basically living off the land, my only companions being 500+ cats, dogs, horses, birds, and other assorted animals. The high priest "took care of me" but looking back today I can see that I lacked even the most basic of survival things (electricity, etc) and he only  barely took care of me just enough to keep me alive, not enough to thrive.

I gained partial freedom from the high priest when I turned 27 and he suddenly lost interest in me because it occurred to him that I was no longer young enough to satisfy his sex drive for little girls. While he now considered me unfit for sex, he still views me as his property and wields a jealously obsessive and very possessive amount of control over every area of my life, and to this day refuses to allow me to have friends. In a dramatic attempt to limit my freedom, in 2003 he took away the only human contact I had: the 3 hour church meetings ever Sunday.

We (me and my animals) lived in a 700sqft "beach cabin" (which was actually little more than a shed - it was not winterized and most of the glass panes had been broken out and replaced by blankets nailed over the hole), until it was knocked over by Hurricane Katrina.

I began rebuilding, but unknown to me rumors were circulating around town of "The Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach" aka "Maine's Crazy Cat Woman" who lived in the woods.

Though I am not now, nor never was a witch, a local church leader incited his congregation into an "anti-witch" frenzy, which resulted in on October 18, 2006 one of his congregation members building a bomb out of a grease fryer stuffed with fly tapes, broke into my house at 1AM in the morning while I was asleep, turned it on high and left it in my kitchen.

The thing blew up and leveled my house with me and my pets trapped inside. The men behind these actions (though not the high priest who is still a high priest in the LDS/Mormon Sanford Ward in Sanford, Maine) are now in prison.

From October 2006 until May 2013 I lived under a 8x6 tarp with no protection from the rain or snow.

Things took a dramatic change in 2007 when I gained a car, and took to learned how to drive it, and for the first time in more than 30 years I suddenly had access to a world far removed from the isolated forest I had lived in since childhood. I tried to get help from the only people I knew: members of the LDS/Mormon Church (Saco Ward and Sanford Ward), but I was unaware at that time, that it was the members of these very congregations who had built the bomb and burned my house down.

The reaction was devastating: and resulted in me being beaten up on multiple occasions by said church members, resulting in a broken hip, and both wrists broken. I would not be aware of "The Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach" accusations and rumors until 2010, when the church excommunicated me on false charges of being a witch, so I was clueless as to why these members reacted so violently to my church attendance.

Being excommunicated from the Mormon church means God has removed your name from the Book of Life and you are barred from Heaven, condemned  to walk eternity alone in Outer Darkness, thus there is no point in my dying as there is nothing for me in the afterlife, and yet being alone nothing I do in life feels like it matters any more. I have nothing to live for yet death is worse.

When you are excommunicated, they erase everything: your marriage becomes a divorce only worse, it is like it never happened, they go so far as to fully deny you were ever his wife, he even denies you were ever his wife; your family shuns you and speaks of you past tense as though you were dead, so do your friends, and your fellow church members, they see you with blind as as though you were invisible. They do not speak to you, they do not look at you...they don't even acknowledge you, if they looked away, that would indicate they saw you, but they don't even do that, they look right through you, walk right into you, act fully 100% like you are not standing there.

When you are a Mormon you are not allowed to have friend outside of the church, all your family are Mormons too, and when they excommunicate you, they and their god all abandon you, turn their backs on you, and act as though you were never born, which is worse than if they acted as though you were dead.

The high priest was the only friend I have had since my 5 friends were murdered more than 25 years ago. For 27 years he was the only human I had contact with. With the excommunication he declared if the Church found me unworthy of membership, I was therefore, in his words: unrightious, unfaithful, and not worthy of love. After 27 years together, he abandoned me, because the church told him to.

The excommunication, or rather my beloved high priest's reaction to it, was the final blow that resulted in many suicide attempts and the police orders that I am not to be left alone.

October 21, 2010 I had a stroke which left me unable to walk until well into January 2011, and with very limited mobility ever since.

Doctors suspect that it was these events which caused my PTSD, that each event made it worse than it was, and that it was because it was left untreated for more than 20 years, that it developed into Agoraphobia. But my really bad PTSD symptoms did not show up until October 21, 2010, the day m high priest abandoned me after the excommunication. I've had 3 strokes since than a 2nd on on October 21, 2011 and a 3rd one on October 21, 2012. I've suffered night terrors, tremors, panic attacks, seizures, and black outs on an almost daily basis ever since the day of the excommunication. Since than I barely sleep more than 2hrs a day and I write on average stead none stop for 16hrs a day.

Please keep this in mind when considering my advice of writing a character with MY TYPE of PTSD symptoms. I do not advise you on writing a PTSD character in general, rather just the type of PTSD symptoms I live with and how it effects my every day life.

There are many types of Agoraphobia. The type I had allowed me to leave the house, but not to leave the yard.

There are many types of Schizophrenia. There are 26 confirmed types of Schizophrenia and some doctors argue that there are more than 40 types of Schizophrenia. I only have one of them. There has been confusion between doctors on my diagnose.

To be exact I have never been diagnose with Schizophrenia, instead I have been diagnosed as "having learned to act Schizophrenic, by being raised by two parents who both had Schizophrenia". Doctors have suggested that "Schizophrenic habits" can be taught to children, who have a Schizophrenic parent. Unfortunately I was 31 years old before I had contact with "the outside world" and doctors say that because of my extreme isolation and total non-socialization, combined with my Autism, they can not be certain if I ACTUALLY have Schizophrenia or if I just picked up on my parents actions and do not act normal simply because I had never seen anyone act normal before.

The reason they debated this is because they said that if I do in fact have Schizophrenia, it is not a type of Schizophrenia they have ever encountered before, they said I was an anomaly, because of the rarity of finding a person who lived 31 years of their life with complete 100% zero contact with outside society, and they did not know how to diagnose me because I suffered from a type of Schizophrenia that was only seen in "feral children" and because there are no detailed studies of feral children like me, they didn't have a proper name for the type of Schizophrenia I had. They said there have only ever been 3 other cases of children who were raised in the same extreme social isolation I had been raised in. They said that I was only the 4th time this type of "Feral Child Schizophrenia" has ever been seen and that it had no scientific name, because there was lack of studies and too much debate as to whether or not it actually is Schizophrenia. They said I would likely never be able to integrate into normal society.

The doctors tell me that they do not know if "Feral Child Schizophrenia" is actually Schizophrenia or if it is just a case of the person acting, talking, and dressing strange because no one ever taught them how to act, talk, or dress "normal". The doctors finally concluded that I have Schizophrenia-like habits, and that I talk, act, and dress like someone with Schizophrenia, but that in all likelihood I have "Feral Child Schizophrenia" which has not been confirmed as actually being "real" Schizophrenia. So it's up for debate whether I have Schizophrenia or not.

Only 4 in 8billion (numbers the doctor quoted to me) have ever been diagnosed with my type of Schizophrenia. Chances are also high that if your character has Schizophrenia, they will NOT have the same type of Schizophrenia as me. Please keep this in mind when considering my advice of writing a character with MY TYPE of Schizophrenia. I do not advise you on writing a Schizophrenic character in general, rather just the type of Schizophrenia I live with and how it effects my every day life.

While I was diagnosed with Autism, PTSD, and Agoraphobia, doctors have not officially diagnosed me with Schizophrenia. They say I have Schizophrenia-like symptoms but not enough of them and not bad enough for an actual diagnoses of Schizophrenia. They say they are "on the fence" as to whether I have Schizophrenia or not.

They said initially they had thought I had Schizophrenia because they did not believe the story of my life and said it was not possible in this day and age, and in a town as built up as Old Orchard Beach, for this to happen. However, they did their research, contacted church members, visited the 8x6tarp-tent in the 300 acres of Ross Forest that sits in the heart of Old Orchard Beach, contacted police and FBI, looked into the men now in prison, saw the charred remains of the burned down house, and came back to say "OMG! You were telling the truth!".

The Salt Lake Church Headquarters refused to comment (to the doctors) on the excommunication, and the bishop who actually did the act was kicked out of his role as Bishop, and though they have tried everything they could think of to get it, the identity of the high priest was never handed over to the doctors, because of their threat to start court proceedings to have him put in prison. I could never let them do that to him.  When they asked why I would protect such a horrible monster, I explained that I do not see him as the monster they say he is, I have never seen him as anything but my husband and the man I love. He's 30 years older than me, here I am in my 40s, he's an elderly man today, and he has Alzheimer's, he rarely remembers anything of his life let alone what he did to me, and he remembers me as being the only friend he's ever had.

Though I'm not diagnosed with it, the doctor's say that I likely have Stockholm's Syndrome as well, given the fact that I remain completely unmoving at revealing the identity of the high priest to them.  The thing they do not understand is, a lot of people hurt me, and he never did. What he did, he did in an attempt to try to protect me. Looking back I can see that he suffered from some serious mental health issues (he has been diagnosed with OCD and DID and Schizoefective Personality) and probably was not the best person to try to protect me, and obviously did not use conventional methods, but I also don't believe he knew of a more conventional method either.

They point out that he lives in a mansion, safe warm, and dry, indoors, while for all these years he has forced me to live outside, under a tarp, cold, wet, outside, unprotected during 5 hurricane, 3 blizzards, an ice storm, and the coldest day in Maine history when  temps reached -48F. They point out that he always has food every day, and yet, I often go days on end between meals.

They are correct, this is true, but he is the one who bought the tarp for me to live under and he is the one who buys me food once or twice a week. No one else did that. No one else did anything at all. Five church congregations totally more than 2,000 people knew of my living conditions, knew of my lack of food, of course they knew my house had been burned down, my relatives all knew, my blood family knew, the neighbors knew, everyone living in Old Orchard Beach, Saco, and Biddeford knew: 45,000 local people knew, and one one of them did a single thing to help. Just the high priest. He's always been there for me. I can't say that about anyone else.

Tell me, when there have been literally dozen of people who have treated me far worse, why would I turn over to the police the only person on this entire planet who's ever lifted a finger to help me? Yes, he is a rapist and used forced sex as a way to get "paid back" for helping me, but considering other people have beaten me up, cut my car in half, burned down my house, killed my cats, broken my bones...being raped in exchange for a tarp to live under and 1 or 2 meals a week is a small price to pay. He took advantage of me, yeah I know that, but he's also the only person who's ever helped me.

Who bought me The Dazzling Razzberry, and keeps it running? He did!

When other Mormons chopped up my Goldeneagle, who went out and tracked down all the pieces of it, bought them all and put it back together? He did!

Who buys $200 worth of catfood to feed each and every week for the past 20 year for all the feral cats that follow me around? He does!

Who buys these mink coats, fur cape, 100 year old silk kimonos, rhinestone ballgowns, and all the rest of my vastly expansive $13,000 wardrobe? He did, and still does!

When a disabled senior dog was about to be put to sleep because she'd been 5 months passed up by families in a shelter, who went out and bought her and than had all her medical work done? He did?

Every time one of my cats needs a vet, who takes them in and pays for the thousands of dollars for surgeries  and meds? He does!

That man you are calling a monster, spends nearly $60,000 dollars on me, my cars, my cats, and my cloths every single year, for the past 27 damn years. So don't you dare, tell me that I ought to put him in prison! Yeah, he did it all in exchange for sex with a minor, but I'm not a minor anymore, and in spite of the excommunication he still pays all the bills to this day.

Did you ever stop to think: if he, the only man to ever help me, is as terrible as you say he is, how much worse does that make everyone else? All the members of the Saco, Sanford, and Cape Elizabeth Wards of the LDS/Mormon Church who knew what my living conditions were, knew what the high priest was doing to me, and still did nothing. Not only did they not try to help me, they never tried to stop him, either. And you call him a monster? He's not the monster here. All the members of the Saco, Sanford, and Cape Elizabeth Wards of the LDS/Mormon Church who sat on their asses doing nothing for the 38 years that this was going on - they are the monsters here.

Tell me this: if he REALLY belongs in prison, than why, when I went to the Church for help, did they excommunicate me, and simultaneously promote him to being one of the priests of The Boston Temple who oversees the baptisms of teenage girls and boys? Seriously, if you people think he's that dangerous and want him in prison, than why do you got him baptizing kids, now? Think about it. Really, stop, and think about it.

But yeah, there you have it, my life in a nutshell and how it is I qualify to tell you how to write about characters with mental health issues. I have several of my own, don't deny it, I was raised by so people who were far from sane themselves, and when it comes to psycho-billy nut jobs, I can't say I have ever known any body who wasn't of questionable mental health, of course I've not known that many people but that would be because the people I did know were so paranoid and full of anti-government conspiracies that they wouldn't leave the house except to go to church and pow-wow with other people too paranoid to leave the house except to go to church.

In my 3 years since being excommunicated (and thus being ignored by my fellow Mormons, which means they also no longer prevent me from leaving the yard, because they are too busy shunning me to stop me), I have gotten my driver's license, gotten a GED, gotten a job, joined college, and actually got to have my first contact with non-Mormons, and everywhere I go people are always calling Mormons cultists (and no one ever knows I'm a Mormon either, so they have no idea that when they confide their latest "Have you heard what those crazy Mormons are up to now?" stories to me that they are talking to a Mormon.) I have had (and am still having) a very hard time adjusting to "life on the outside" (as Mormons put it) but the more time I spend with non-Mormons the more I can see, that yeah, cult is the correct word for the life style I grew up in. Funny how I never saw it that way when I was in it. Funny how it took being excommunicated for me to leave the yard and see that there was a great big world full of people on the outside. Funny how I never noticed how insanely paranoid my fellow Mormons were until they turn on me and tossed me out amongst the non-Mormons. Funny how Mormons describe the rest of the world as evil and Satanic, and in 3 years on the outside, hob-nobbing around with my 8,000 fellow SMCC students, I've yet to find anyone who is either evil or Satanic.

Even funnier is how psychologists tell me, that the fact that I have come so far in my integration into "normal society" in such a short time, that they now say they are questioning their earlier diagnoses of me. They say it is possible I don't have Autism or Schizophrenia at all, that I was simply "deeply repressed by cultists" and was completely shut down. They say the very fact that I have learned how to talk is proof that their initial diagnosis of Mutism Autism was wrong. They are also "astounded" that someone who had Agoraphobia as bad as I did in 2006, could be now the social butterfly I have become at college. They now say they misdiagnosed the Agoraphobia and that it was more a "learned habit of fear" caused by living with other people who feared everything, saying that children mimic the adults around them, and I had no point of reference because I grew up in a cult.

I do not know what to believe about anything the doctors tell me. They can't seem to pin down a diagnosis and they persist in calling the church that was the only thing I knew for nigh on 40 years a cult. Was it a cult? I don't know. I'm still trying to come to terms with the fact that they ganged up on me and threw me out of their "fold" based on some stupid hysterical, ludicrous false accusation of witchcraft! It's too much for me to deal with as it is, I can't even begin to try to question was it a cult or not! Which if any mental illness do I actually have? I don't know. I won't even know how to tell one from another to begin with, I only know what the names of these things are because it is what doctors tell me. All I want is for someone to love me. I don't care about anything else. Sleeping alone at night is unbearable. Before the excommunication I've not been alone at night since before I was 12. The loneliness is unbearable.

But than I write about Roderic. More than 200 stories about a character, whom readers can not stop telling me is the most accurate portral of Autism and/or Schizophrenia they have ever encountered in fiction, and all they want to know is, how do you do it? How do you research to write about him? What is your training in psychology? How can you write mental illness so accurately? How did you create a character so true to life on what it is like to live with Schizophrenia?

I just write what I know. Everything that happens to Roderic, is based on something that actually happened to me. All of it. There is far more truth than fiction in the stories I write about Roderic. His life mirrors my own in so many ways. But the thing of it is, I don't write Roderic as being mentally ill, I never have, at no time do I ever say he has this or that - he's not diagnosed with anything and it is purely readers who are saying he has Autism and/or Schizophrenia. I don't know what Roderic has, I don't write Roderic as though he has anything, I just write Roderic living everyday normal life, the same everyday normal life I live, which I guess is a far cry from what other people see as everyday or normal. Roderic is me; his life is mine. I write what I know. So sure, you can ask me to tell you how to write meantally ill characters and sure I can tell you what I know and how I write my characters, but yo got to understand I do not research for Roderic what so ever, I just write the world the way I see it, so I suppose, it's a case of it takes one to know one, when it comes to how it is I write Roderic so "accurately" as a fictional character with mental health issues.

That is why I say I can not advise you on "specifically" writing a character with "specific" mental illness, and rather can only advice you on writing characters who see the world as I do, and live with the issues I live with.

I Love Roderic!
A List of Every Page on this Site
Where I Talk More About Roderic

It is no secret that Sir Roderic Lincandonia Swanzen, owner of The Twighlight Manor, is my favorite character, and you don't have to read very many blog posts, articles, site pages, etc to realize, I talk about him A LOT. While you see him mentioned in passing on just about every page on this site, there are some pages where I go into vast detail about his life. I am going to make a list of them all and tack it to the end of each of those pages, to make it easier for readers to find them all. And here they are:

Roderic Swanzen

Developing Character Backgrounds

Using a Character with a Mental Illness

But Is It Erotica?

Toilets in Fiction

Twighlight NOT Twilight!

The Twighlight Manor

Characters To Fall In Love With

TSoD: The Traveling Shovel of Death

Mental Illness in Fiction

Cliches To Avoid

Descriptive Writing

Incest In Fiction

Agoraphobia

Schizophrenia

PTSD

Mute Characters

Characters With Disabilities

NaNoWriMo: How Do You Pick Which Story to Write?

Enhance Your Creativity To Become a Better Writer

Fantasy World Building







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