Tired of This

Tired of This

Hey, Houston, come here…look! M*@T%^*F++K Damnit… Houston, we have a problem! Look, someone is doing it again right now. How the heck are they getting in? They are being bold as hell this time. A remote predator hacked me, and they attempted to steal $500 through a fraudulent payment. They tried to create a payment from my PayPal account for services not received from a company I have never heard of. Luckily, I looked at the computer when it was happening. It would have gone unnoticed if I didn’t look over at that moment until I was overdrawn. There’s nothing more frightening than looking up and seeing the cursor moving effortlessly across the screen and not knowing what is happening or how to stop the blatant invasion.

 I’ve been hacked twice in less than six months. I’m no one important, just someone who angered someone with too much time on their hands. I once considered that person a friend. They were someone I would ask for ideas to write about, like a daily topic to develop into a poem or short story. They claimed to be a good artist but never produced anything useful for my books. So, after sending five poems and asking for drawings to accompany them, I decided art would not be needed. The person felt as if I owed them something. They began fabricating issues, such as their child being deathly ill and needing medical treatment, that they could not afford. That would be Friday, and they would post new pictures on Instagram by Sunday of the daughter modeling new clothing and smiling. Come to find out, it was her birthday weekend. Why lie? What kind of parent would lie about their child being sick to get money from a friend? Because of the lies, the friendship deteriorated, and I had to block them on Facebook. At first, I missed the daily conversations, but one day, while watching the Steve Harvey show, Steve said something that made perfect sense:

 “Not everyone that comes with you can go with you. Your journey is just that… YOURS! You should not feel bad or try to carry anyone with you. Don’t block your blessing, trying to help someone else.”  

I never looked back; that was three books ago. I chose to self-publish all the earlier books. I realized that I needed professional help with promotions if I wanted to sell to more than my friends and family. So, I set up a “go-fund-me” page to raise money for publishing. That put a target on my back. Because he could not get me to respond on Facebook, he hacked my page and email account. A week ago, I learned that he is still harassing all of my family, contacts, and friends. When I thought I was finished with his meddling, I got an email from the cloned account. As if he was doing me a favor by letting me know I had a message from Reedsy. I’ve been shut out of my original Facebook account, but I have been writing for years. Anyone who knows me can tell that it is not my messages they hear from that account. All the people that mattered enough from that account have my primary and secondary emails and have found their way to my new Facebook page.

This second hack happened the very day I discovered my antivirus had expired. I got sidetracked because of a meeting and couldn’t rebuy Norton for an hour. How wild, umm…or was it a coincidence, karma, or stupidity? I did get comfortable after recovering from the first attempt to rattle me. I changed passwords and thought I had done what I needed to regain control. This time I decided to close all credit card accounts, delete all online banking accounts and pay my bills that old-school way by writing checks.

Well, maybe that’s drastic, but I don’t know what to do. If my hacker, stalker, or ex-friend were in the United States, there would be things to do; Stalking laws and Cybercrime laws. Now I understand why in the ’70s, my mother feared the world’s embrace of computers. She predicted the government would become “Big Brother” and how computers would run the world before the 2000s. If Wells Fargo and Bank of America can be compromised by hackers, who do I think I am?

I wish going analog was the solution, but I can’t just drop off the grid, or can I? I can still publish books with a pseudonym, or I think that is what it is called when you write books anonymously. That feels like I am running scared; since I like seeing my name in print, I won’t hide. I should be fine until I become as famous as Thomas Seuss Geisel, Dr. Seuss, or Samuel Clemens, known as Mark Twain. The more I write, the angrier I get. I need a break from this.

I checked and returned four emails. I played four words in three different games of Words with Friends. I got something to drink and realized I was stalling. I also realized I live through my computer! Since my car accident and paralysis on St. Patrick’s Day 1998, my computer has become my connection to the world. Sometimes I have to message my son or whichever caregiver who’s on duty in another part of the house. Now, you can make telephone calls from your desktop or laptop with nothing but a headset and a cursor click. I love the ease of connecting for free. You can talk to your next-door neighbor or someone around the world.

What else must I change to avoid being victimized again? I believe that the blessing God has for YOU, no one can steal it. The people that you anger will be used to promote you. Think of yourself as an Oyster. Oysters have protective shells. They have no natural enemies, and those wishing to eat them must work hard for little yield. Oysters produce the most giant pearl from the greatest irritation.