Living with my handler - targeted by a cult

He's a sadist, psychopath, deviant. He "rescued" me from the initial attack about 3 months after I was made aware, and claimed to be a TI from Florida, suggested we "team up" to help protect one another. He had some savings and would drive to Washington State to get me, and we could go anywhere we wanted. He said he would take care of me.  And I believed him.  I thought, "Ha!  I got away", at least with someone that understands and believes me.  He knew I was leaving my job and would be totally dependent upon him.  He said he'd take care of me and I would take care of him.  How was I to know that he was really my attacker, a psychopath/narcissist?  At first he was really sweet and charming, mild and sort of meek.  Spoke in a really low soothing voice and seemed very gentle.  At first.  But little by little I started to see what the agenda really was.  His name is James F. Lico, and he's active with FFCHS.

While he was driving cross-country he called me constantly, with one huge problem after another.  This was to keep me stressed out and to consume all my spare time that I could have otherwise spent on useful research.  His tone sounded funny when I would call him, falsely jovial. He told me on one call that he belonged to the IOEW - the International Order of Electrical Workers and it freaked me out, I told him I can't go with him (the mobbing was by that same group, they had stickers on their windows and patches on the sleeves of their shirts). My sister said he could stay at her house until we decided where we would go,then changed her mind. She and my son performed an elaborate gas-lighting before he showed up, all the while I was being microwaved. When he arrived in my town, I met him at his motel. He resembled the troglodyte insect puke and his family that tricked me into this cowardly trap. But he was very convincing, said it was just a coincidence, etc.

I was desperate for help. I don't blame myself for falling for it, why should I? The things that were done to me were to induce a state of shock. And I was further duped by Freedom From Covert Harassment and Surveillance, and the infiltrators that show up to many of the conference calls claiming to have been TI's for years and years (if you are a real TI and want me to elaborate on the reasons why I claim the above about FFCHS and many of the members, leave a comment and your phone number and I'll call you. You can believe what I say or not).

I made a list of reasons why I think I'm with my handler:  it's 2 steno-book pages long. The reasons may appear silly. But a real TI knows EVERYTHING that's done to you is meant to appear silly so you will have no credibility. This man owned a large, beautiful home in Florida and showed me photos, traded in the stock market, inherited rooms full of expensive furniture and original artwork from his mother. Other details were fed to me by him, over time, to heighten the fear and suspicion, the sense of helplessness and dependence.

He told me his old girlfriend, Ellen, started having sex with his neighbors who were firemen, policemen. That he had photos (that she deleted from his computer) and he enhanced the part of the photos that were taken by the pool, and had reflections showing in the chrome of the pool step-ladder which showed men without clothes on, and of her performing sex acts on them. He said it took him a year to get her to leave. She has Multiple Sclerosis. His next relationship was with a woman named Janet that he met on a dating website. He said she had him falsely arrested for threatening her with a knife, that he spent a month and a half in jail (he was able to get the charges dropped - I believe it as he was emailed a copy of the court clerk' filing). She has all of his expensive antique furniture.

He and I "met" on a FFCHS conference call. He claims it's the poison that they can shoot with a microwave weapons that are the most dangerous, that it enhances and increases the effects . I believed him (when I was still living with my sister, I found "stuff" that I think I was tricked into believing was poison, by being allowed to observe family members planting a white powder in my handlers' clothes and on the dog, and by "hearing" small pieces of it go through aluminum foil - tic tic tic). I believe TI's are poisoned. But not by having micro-pieces of it shot off the walls or floor or clothes. That was misdirection. I've had the most God-awful perfume sprayed outside my apartment door whenever I announce I'm leaving. I was sprayed with it while living with a relative.  There were blue spots on the shirts I was wearing, and my hair stunk of it.  I have no other “proof” of poisoning.  Two really terrible things about his claim that poisons are worse than microwaves are: 1.  you have to keep blocking the poison, by putting up big ugly pieces of plastic, or wrapping yourself in visqueen (it drove me crazy-I was a neat freak), and 2.  NOTHING IS DONE TO SHIELD AGAINST THE MICROWAVES.

Something I just realized about him is that he seems to get turned-on when I report a lot of pain from the microwave attacks, and especially if I cry.  When I'm feeling strong and have energy I'm mostly ignored while he watches one msnbc show after another.

I can go back to at least 2006 and maybe as far as 2004, to when The Conditioning began.  In 2004 I worked for a major waste company, and there was talk of unionization at the landfill I worked at.  My job category wasn't part of the union effort, but I was none the less dragged into it by the men that were in jobs that wanted the union.  This is also when I filed a workman's comp claim for carpul tunnel in my right hand, and my boss didn't like that - he asked me to let the company pay for the co-pay, and I show up and answer phones with no time loss, which I refused.   I had another surgery in a delicate place in 2004.

Also around this time, I had gained a lot of weight and wanted to start exercising.  I started walking down the country road I lived on, got about 25 feet and felt a horrible shock going up my bottom.  The pain was paralyzing, but I managed to make it back home.  I only tried it one more time and the same thing happened.  I fell through my rickity back porch and got a big bruise on my left thigh and a little cut on my left shin.  The little cut wouldn't heal, became filled with what looked like water, not discolored, and tests showed no bacterial nor viral infection.  On my left calf, I developed a solid red rash with water blisters that stung like bee stings until they popped, then it itched.  The rash spread all over my legs and body.  I saw my GP, a dermatologist, and went to the wound clinic but no diagnosis was given.  It looked and felt exactly like shingles, but I was told by everyone that you get shingles only on one side of your body.  That same year my best friend since childhood, Tina, died of liver failure.  I don't think my targeting and her death are coincidental - she was the only friend that didn't make a habit of treating me like a second class citizen.  She was always sweet and kind to me, no hidden agenda.  Also, I was sprayed with pesticide while waiting for a light to change.  It was a very windy day and there was a man spraying the shrubs that surrounded a hotel parking lot.  It came in the open window of my car and made me sick.  Little by little, the women in my life (most of them) began wearing more and stronger perfume, which made me sick when I was around it for too long (headaches, burning eyes, nose and throat, and fatigue).

There was a lot of other marginal stuff going on then, but not like there was in 2006 when I worked for a major insurance company in the call center.  That's when very strange things happened.  For example, the managers were having a meeting and found that someone had pooped on the floor outside the meeting room.  Later I was told by the husband of my dearest friend Tina (he also worked for the insurance company but in a different department) that the pooping wasn't deliberate.  That a woman that worked in his department had been ill and couldn't make it to the restroom.  This happened again after I was mobbed and the targeting started in earnest (in 2011).  I had to work in the office (I was working at home, telecommuting) after the mobbing, I was scared to death.  My old manager and an employee that was on my telecommuting team came down to visit with me, and told me that the managers found poop outside the meeting room door...very strange.  While I was working in the office, the gang stalking was pretty bad.  I was coming back from lunch and turned around to face front in the elevator.  A woman in a business suit was standing outside the door to the brokerage firm that was on the main floor of the building I worked in and said, "That's Sam X____".  I had never seen either one of them before in my life.

The agenda is all about frustration.  Everything that can be done to frustrate me is done.  My partner/handler consistently leaves kitchen cupboard doors and drawers open. Leaves food smears all over the refrigerator, cupboards, etc.  misplaces everything, never puts anything away, goes through so many towels and clothes because he takes at least 2 showers a day, often more, to escape from the invisible poison.  He makes no visible effort to alter his behavior.  Not ever.  Now, I know people, especially men, can be lazy, but this is beyond the realm of the worst of slobs.  He seemed absolutely clueless that you have to wash the peanut butter off your hands before you start touching 'frig doors.  And if you have a cockroach problem (and we did for the first 3 months we were here) you simply can't do that.  You have to take a little care.  And it didn't happen once or twice, it was every time he went anywhere in the apartment he left a trail of stuff to be picked up, or laundered, or mopped or vaccuumed or wiped off.  And the bathroom - don't let me commence!  Anyway, my point is that I have no problem taking care of a man, even a total slob.  I was (and am, dammit!) grateful that he "rescued" me from the hell I was in, and gleefully kept things clean every day, even when we were moving nearly every day from motel to motel, getting very little sleep at night because of the DEW attacks (and we were using plastic to shield against it! Good one, James!).  And I was honestly falling for him.  That really gives me pause now.  [Right after I was mobbed, I went to the laundrymat by my house and there was a couple in there that made it a point to sit at the table next to me.  He looked very fit and healthy, her hair was brittle and dry and very short, and she kept it pulled back in a kerchief.  One of those hoarding shows was on the TV, and every once and a while she would look over at me, put her head in her hands and shake it back and forth.  Then he would rub her arm as if to comfort her.  I've had many theories about that couple, but mostly about that woman.  I would bet a wooden nickle that she was/is a target, and was worn down, and gave in.  Became a slave to them (to him), willingly, to save her life].  I'm not going to be able to do that.

Trying to keep up with the messes James made, while dealing with the gang stalking, gaslighting and DEW was impossible.  I would have had to stay up 24/7  to keep up with him (James has narcolepsy - perfect for handling a TI).  And the only solution to shielding against the microwaves was plastic and painting, which don't do a thing.  James is an electrician, for God's sake!  And he feigned ignorance.  When he finally decided to do something, it involved wrapping a piece of aluminum screen in visqueen.  That was it.  Hell, I had better shielding with the aluminum cookie sheets and $99 xray apron!   But I recognized the pattern as the one that started in Spokane.  I'd fell for the trap.  I knew why I got away so easily and quickly.  Because I didn't.  The most compelling reason I suspected him and now am certain in my assessment was because, if the government has me on a watch list (or whatever you want to call it) or some other group of powerful people with lots of money wanted to strip me of my life - essentially ruin me - would either have allowed me to get away?  Absolutely not.

...We went through a period of time where we wouldn't leave the apartment together because someone was coming in a poisoning the place.  Then I insisted we go together to the store, that I was sick of always having to face the stalkers alone, and it was a nightmare.  The other day we were idling out of the apartment complex, kids were getting home from school and they were everywhere.  We had gotten notice from management that there were complaints we were driving erratically and had to comply or get thrown out.  He starts tying his left shoe and asks me to take the wheel.  Then he sped up!  I told him to wait until he stopped to tie it, that it wasn't an emergency, and got screamed at.  I was mobbed on that day, and insisted he take me home and go to the store on his own.  (will continue later)

6-3-12   daily journal:  I've been having problems with my ears for the past week or so, and James took me to the emergency room early this morning.  I've had swimmers' ear before and thought I had it again, but in both ears (was told by the doc that having it in both ears is rare).  The pain was pretty bad, not as bad as the first time I'd had it (that time my ear canal swelled shut and was a fungal infection-unbearable pain), but I looked on the internet for what to do about it, and it said to go to the emergency room if it's causing dizziness, if you've had problems with your ears before, etc, so we went.  The doctor that examined me was very kind.  I asked him about the scars behind my ears and he said that my ear canals in both ears "were a mess", that I had a lot of scar tissue in both of them.  Now I've had many illnesses in my life, I was a sickly little kid.  But I have absolutely no memory of any operations on my ears!!!!!!   Anywayyyyy, back to my journal entry...On the way home from the hospital, James was just driving down the road when my heart started pounding in my chest like a hammer!  I saw a white Dodge pickup, and the driver looked a lot like the manipulative cretin Michael F! (I'll explain who he is later, and give a description).  James pretended to not know what to do to help me.  I thought that this was it, they were going to kill me right here on the street.  The pain was unbelievable.  I tried to explain to James what happened and all he said was, 'oh yeah.  I've had that happen to me'.  He said to me on more than one occasion that I should notice that when we are getting along (or having sex) that they don't microwave us, but when we fight we get microwaved more.  Well, that's true, except his use of the word "we".  If you look at someone that's been microwaved (just look at a few Youtube videos of the women TI's and it's undeniable:  they look like they've been microwaved.  Their hair is kinky and dry and brittle looking and they appear washed out.  James looks as fresh as a daisy, and not half as old as he is).  As long as I went along with everything he wanted the attacks were less frequent and severe - they have never stopped, and never will (he'll tell you that I always got my way, I always got what I wanted.  Believe me, he lies.  I'm a target because I've always gone by the motto of 'tell the truth and shame the devil'.  Lots of people don't want truth tellers around, aka whistleblowers).  James just told me today that I could've had it all.  But the price I would have had to pay was my soul, my will, my self.  And even if I'd agreed to give myself up they wouldn't have stopped the harassment and terrorism.  He would have used me up and thrown me away when he was done with me. 

Who is Michael F?

 He's the guy that pretended to like me, deceived and manipulated me into the targeting.  He's tall and skinny, with sort of curly dark hair, looks like he's in his 30's or 40's but is really probably closer to 50 years old.  He pretended to be a poor guy working for Winco Foods in Spokane.  He drove passed my house almost every day, followed me to the store, had relatives that lived right behind me on Wellesley Avenue that harassed and spied on me.  I couldn't get away from this stalker.  His family owns car dealerships, gas companies, etc.  He's one of the "people that have all the money that want to keep all the money".  He's a soulless insect (I was using the term 'pig' for a while, as in Nazi pig, but these people that are doing this don't deserve the status of even a farm animal.  So insect it is). 

While I was looking online for information about cults, I found a Wikipedia entry for Margaret Singer's book called Cults in Our Midst and thought, "This is exactly what happened with my targeting". She lists 6 steps to thought reform: 1. Keep the person unaware of what is going on and how attempts to psychologically condition him or her are directed in a step-by-step manner. 2. Control the person's social and/or physical environment; especially control the person's time. 3. Systematically create a sense of powerlessness in the person. 4. Manipulate a system of rewards, punishments and experiences in such a way as to inhibit behavior that reflects the person's former social identity. 5. The group manipulates a system of rewards, punishments, and experiences in order to promote learning the group's ideology or belief system and group-approved behaviors. 6. Put forth a closed system of logic and an authoritarian structure that permits no feedback and refuses to be modified except by leadership approval or executive order. %%%%%%% James could have written the manual on this! Step-by-step, this is how he did it: 1. I thought I was the luckiest person alive, to have found someone that A. believed me, and B. was going to help me. I was at my most vulnerable and they took advantage of that fact. 2. He had the car, the resources and the knowledge (he had convinced me poison was EVERYWHERE). We spent weeks going from motel to motel, washing the poison off the walls. And at each place it would become re-infested with poison, so we'd have to wash more walls. Took up a lot of my time. I was constantly exhausted (by the way, not just blood, urine, semen and poison show up under black light. Take a look at the hood vent on your stove. To James this was poison). 3. Tell me you wouldn't feel powerless if you thought you had to wash everything every day to stay poison-free. And contend with gang stalkers and DEW. 4. You had to be there to appreciate how this worked. Always being cut short and interrupted in conversations; expected to never doubt anything he said, and with no logic behind the arguments. I was hit hardest with DEW on the days that I argued with him; at a "TI's" (I'll explain the quotation marks at another time) house we stayed at for a couple weeks, BOTH of them spoke to me in the tone a parent uses with a misbehaving three-year-old. 5. See explanation #4. 6. There was NO negotiation about the shielding efforts we were going to take, the fact that grease spatters show up purple or orange under black light, etc. It started with washing walls every day, until I refused to do it anymore. Then we finally get into an apartment, I agreed to help paint, once. We finished painting and he announced that the PAINT had poison in it!!!!!!!!!! So he had to paint over that, and still it wasn't enough. He said that they kept shooting the poison in through a hole in the screen. Then we had to keep all the windows closed. I balked at that, so he duct taped these black plastic panels near the openings of the sliding glass door and other windows. It's

like living in a box. It's a totally isolated and isolating situation.

6-15-2012 8:09 AM


When my behavior was being manipulated prior to the mobbing, I had encounters with several people in Spokane WA that are part of influential, affluent families that own most of that city.  Robideaux, Finley, Jaremko, Wendle, Barton...follow the money and you'll find who is behind the targeting.

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