Covert malignant narcissists don’t just charm their relationship partners; they also fool law enforcement, lawyers, ADAs, judges, friends, family members and bosses every day. They are able to obtain followers and build harems that carry out their dirty work for them. They can sabotage, stalk, harass and re-traumatize their victims even after they’ve supposedly ‘discarded’ them. They make their victims look like the abusers. Narcissists are notorious for cyberstalking their victims. Anticipate that the narcissistic abuser will be ‘checking up’ on you online, even if they have been blocked.
2 years prior, I’d chatted with a guy online for a while and ultimately agreed to meet up. I told him to come over in an hour, I needed to shower and clean up my place. Ten minutes later he texts me, saying he’s already here and was insistent on coming in at that very moment. I had no chance to get ready and when I told him he’d have to wait, he became rude, demanding, and copped a major attitude with me. He left me with a bad vibe and I said I was no longer interested in meeting him.
I forgot all about this guy until one night in August, 2017, when I saw him online,his location being ~1,000 feet away per the site’s GPS. We started chatting, continuing to talk over the course of that week. He’d just moved up the street from me, too, and this time he seemed a lot more laid back and personable. He wanted to meet; I was lonely and depressed without Ben, and so I figured why not take him up on the offer and give him a second chance, you only live once, right? You only die once, too, but we always forget that side of it. He gave me his number, asking me to text him, which I did.
When he responded, his a4a screen name, apexpredaTor, appeared underneath his message, like a signature. Only it wiggled around my screen and I’d never seen anything like it before. After a few messages back and fourth, I noticed his actual number began wiggling around, too. Suddenly his number completely changed into another number, leaving me completely baffled.
WTF is going on here?!?!?
Is this really happening?
I pinched myself and no, I wasn’t dreaming. I sent a text message to this newly-morphed number linked to his text message:
Are you hacking into my phone or something?
When I hit “send,” I heard the ring of a phone go off inside my room. I’d recently bought a prepaid phone amidst my cell phone turmoil. Somehow, the apexpredaTor’s number had changed into the number of my prepaid phone. My text message was sent to my second phone instead of the one I’d been texting before, which I assumed was his. My prepaid phone’s screen began to flash and flicker before going black, completely dead thereafter. I have no idea how this happened, and I have no idea how someone knew the prepaid phone’s number, as I didn’t even know it (without looking at the phone itself). And no, I wasn’t under the influence, this actually happened. I went over to my computer to send him a message on adam4adam but his profile had already been deleted.
A year later I’d stumble upon the meaning of apex predator…
I immediately contacted DC police, who arrived within several minutes. They weren’t very helpful or sympathetic though:
So… what actual crime exactly was committed here? Would you consider being evaluated by a doctor?
As subsequent hacks led me to call the police repeatedly, their responses were always dismissive:
If this phone is causing you grief, why not get rid of it?
Or else they’d make comments like:
What do you really need a phone for? You can’t live without one? Don’t you remember life, back in the day, when you didn’t have a phone at all? Life was much better back then, wasn’t it? Technology is such a hassle!
These officers seemed annoyed from the moment they arrived, and I was shocked by how dismissive and condescending they were, as well as how unwilling they were to help me out let alone take me seriously. Not to mention the officers clearly enjoyed using their internet-ready smart phones, they’d frequently cut me off mid-sentence to discuss more important crimes on their mobile devices. I’m not a cellular forensics expert or I’d have known what was going on, but the police seemed irritated that I couldn’t explain matters completely, seemingly annoyed, like I was wasting their time. I could only describe the events that took place, not the technology behind it, and whatever it was, it was not normal and it destroyed my phone.
The police always seemed annoyed, like I was intentionally wasting their time. Ultimately DC MPD informed me they don’t investigate cyber crimes outside of fraud; they advised me to contact the FBI who turned out to be even more unhelpful.
I always spoke to the same woman at the FBI when I called and I came to know her well over the next few months. She had no interest in assisting me, either. She would frequently become short with me and hang up if I disagreed with her. It seemed like my calls were diverted to her whenever I called for some reason. And no matter what I reported, no matter what I said to refute her advice, she always gave one of two answers:
It’s not a crime for someone undercover… to have sex with you 2000 times… to deceive you into a relationship so they can exploit and entrap you… to invade your privacy in a permanent way and broadcast it to the world after provoking you to look crazy… to constantly harass you using fake profiles that never stop baiting you into conversations about drugs and money for sex… arranging fake dates for you on the tax-payers’ dime. Nor is it a crime for someone working under the color of law to do everything possible to ensure every day ends in rain for you. I’m sorry, but none of that is criminal, it reflects bad character, but having bad character isn’t against the law.
Or else she’d say:
That’s an internet crime. Report it to the IC3.
The IC3 never responded and I sent numerous emails that summer. Not to mention these weren’t internet crimes either. These were organized, privacy-invading, mind-fucking crimes aimed at confusing me, causing me to doubt my sanity, and convincing everyone else that I was crazy. Hack after hack soon consumed my mind, I couldn’t get anyone to help, and I couldn’t find anyone who’d pay me and my phone issues any attention.
The theme of destroying my second phone would become the expected. I’m on my 18th Phone since July 2017. For whatever reason, “whomever” was insistent I be limited to one phone which pissed me off; I can buy as many phones as I want, and they had no right to destroy them. I’ve repeatedly bought a second, cheap throwaway phone, thinking it gave me some sort of privacy, although I doubt it. 3 have been killed by remote hacks, 1 was stolen in a break-in (the only thing stolen), 1 was stolen by someone I’d met online, and in another instance someone came over and – out of nowhere – knocked me on my bed and tied me up. They grabbed my iPhone and knew (out of 7 dead prepaid phones all lying together in a drawer) exactly which phone worked and stole it, also. I have no idea why my phones are of such value to Ben and company. If someone wants to wire-tap my phone, so be it, I have no issues with that nor anything legal. But whatever they were doing wasn’t wire-tapping nor was it legal, it was invasive and destructive, and it brought back memories of Ben hacking into my Android.
The profile pictures suddenly all seemed strange, and the messages I received were often stranger. Having been on Grindr for a decade, this was not what I’d experienced before. But I couldn’t always put my finger on exactly what seemed so “off” about what I was experiencing.
In many ways it reminded me of Ben and how he’d say or do things that left me feeling like he was fucking with my mind, only I couldn’t explain it with words, and he’d always deny it, telling me I was crazy. Just like with Ben, Grindr suddenly left me asking myself:
Is it me? Or is it the profile? Is it me or is it him?
For those unfamiliar with Grindr, it’s where gay men go to meet others, with profiles typically trying to impress the crowd and stand out. It always consisted of guys posting their most attractive pictures, the app being filled with headless well-sculpted torsos and glamor shots. Suddenly it was cartoon oddities and people dressed up like animals, which left me scratching my head.
While not always the case, the content tended to promote healthy ways of living — guys often boasted about their HIV-negative status, their disdain for drug use, and being in search of someone of similar moral caliber. It suddenly seemed those days were a thing of the past, and oddities galore suddenly took over Grindr as I’d always known it to be.
All these profiles with the names Alex and Ben kept following me around everywhere I’d go. Then, after several weeks, they’d vanish altogether.
Ben’s nickname was Malkyja (almost). Over the course of a year, this Virginia-based profile constantly made ageist or back-handed remarks similar to Ben when engaging me in conversation all the way from Alexandria. It seemed like it had to be Ben only how could that be possible? Ben always swore he didn’t have a computer, so he couldn’t possibly be controlling all these fake profiles from his home.
Profiles like the damn CookieFacTory would always showing up right next to me, less than 100 ft away, asking about threesomes and drugs… go figure.
And if I blocked them on one site or app, low and behold, they’d show up on another only with a different screen name. Location: somewhere near you, 0.01 miles away, creepy.
Lots were just down-right vulgar and twisted…
…really vulgar and twisted, and for no apparent reason.
Grindr was no longer remotely fair and balanced, instead it was crooked and depraved.
Oh, totally beautiful. Eat your ass. Taste your semen. If I am not too old.
These over-the-top messages can’t be serious, right? Even the worst of gay men don’t say such stupid shit. And of course, XXRobYY had to add in the kicker:
If you are HIV neg.
These stupid profiles seemed OBSESSED with making jabs about HIV status and none of my other HIV-positive friends received these…
Who the hell sends a random message saying:
I want to fill you with pleasure and hear you moan.
It seemed odd that when I look up, say, Jaye’s number via reverse caller lookup, it’s just registered to “Jaye.” No last name, just “Jaye” like the profile. Maybe I’m reading into things too much? I started to notice the reverse call look-up app listed the names of my own contacts by the same nicknames I used, as well. Someone was really trying to fuck with my head… but figuring out how to link Ben to this, and it was apparent to me he was involved based on a lot of the content, was impossible. Figuring out how to put a stop to this was all the more impossible, leaving me totally frustrated.
There’s me, below, in the upper left, the headless torso. Looking around me in a neighborhood that was traditionally African-American, which now was almost all non-African-American and included one of several female politicians I’d be seeing on Grindr.
I was one of a handful of white people in my neighborhood, and it hadn’t changed demographically when walking around, looking at my neighbors. But on Grindr, it’s sure changed a lot. The following screen recording shows you the profiles from me going out a mile, there’s very few black guys, and a lot of odd balls that only remain a few days, then vanish. Prior to this, it was the same handful of profiles always on Grindr. It’s not possible that there’s this many profiles on Grindr going out a mile from me either, it’s as if Ben and company had jam-packed my area with fake profiles to limit my options and leave me isolated.
Something about these two just seems “off”… or maybe I was reading too much into things after being traumatized by the Apex Predator.
I saw the same apex predator guy online several months later, now with a different screen-name, same pics for the most part. Whoever / whatever he was, he wasn’t some random gay guy looking to meet for friendship or fun. He was an impostor, he was a fake, and he saw fit to destroy my prepaid phone – my best guess – because whomever he worked for was tracking my communication… and it’s easier to monitor one phone instead of two. He even sent me another message referencing his hack job with one cryptic phrase – “yer phone” – then silence. His screen name below is – Imawesome310.
Over the course of the next year I’d see him repeatedly, always advertising that he was versatile, liked raw (unsafe) sex and liked to parTy (do drugs). It sounded like something Ben dreamed up, and each new profile had a different name but recycled the same pics as before for the most part.
There’s the apex predator below on the right, on BBRT. The guy to the left is aged 32 on BBRT, but I chatted with him on Grindr, his age there was 24. Ben had arrived out of the blue that day — and when I showed him the picture he started to laugh oddly, saying he knew the guy before suddenly having to jet, running out the door. It seemed like Ben knew exactly what was taking place only, like always, he wasn’t capable of admitting anything wrong.
This pic to the right is odd; that’s me from my profile at the time, someone must have copied it and added those nasty words to it. Strange…
While I didn’t put 2 and 2 together, after I initially angered Ben over the other “n-word” in early 2015, my social media / gay chat environment suddenly changed, and continued changing for the negative.
I was so depressed with my recent HIV diagnosis back then, being the HIV RN that made his first sexual partner get tested with him 3 times only to then get infected by the asshole. Then PrEP was FDA-approved and I missed it by a matter of days, which seemed so unfair, although it now seems so minuscule in light of others matters. Ben knew all this from round one, he knew all the issues that were sensitive to me, and these issues all came to life on Grindr, adam4adam, Jack’d and all the gay apps magically. I never once considered he played any role nor that these weren’t just completely “random.” But once the apex predator struck for the second time and killed my prepaid phone in that bizarre hack, I started to realize my online experiences somehow different than what others encountered.
Suddenly, every profile surrounding me was on PrEP, and even given that meant they couldn’t get HIV, they’d still blatantly reject me. Plus the sheer number of guys on PrEP right off the bat wasn’t realistic in the slightest. I recognize PrEP became popular and many gay guys went on it – eventually – but this sudden eruption was extremely disproportionate compared to the number of people actually taking PrEP based on the number of prescriptions written to date. Suddenly all the profiles were blatantly advertising drug use, too, in particular crystal meTh. I also noticed an influx of profiles on PrEP that used drugs and also reported living in Virginia, just like where those officers worked, the ones Ben claimed ultimately he “worked with.” Initially it jumped out at me but I thought it was just how things were. It also seemed like everyone I spoke to would be cool and then they’d ask for money in order to meet up. Looking back, the first person to expose me to escorting was none other than Ben, as he’d told me his stories of working as one in his late teens. I didn’t realize back then that he had an influence on my profile landscape, but he somehow had managed to gain control.
I came to believe the gay world was nothing but drugs, drugs, and more drugs, unprotected sex on PrEP and way too people from Virginia in my neighborhood or hitting me up from across the river in the red state.
I’ve since come to believe this was a way of gaslighting me into believing the world was negative, that I was the only idiot that missed the PrEP boat, and that for some odd reason everyone in Virginia wanted to hang out on Grindr near me in D.C. These profiles over time desensitized me into believing I was the outcast for not engaging in this stuff.
This one profile — HIV+ or POZ or some derivation of that, always with a photo of the same guy, although the photos spanned years based on his ever-changing appearance, would frequently contact me with these vulgar statements or “tap” me at 0 feet away, leaving me with this ominous feeling of being stalked. Plus whomever was blatantly harassing me about being HIV+ which is such a cheap shot. Only initially I just thought the world was mean, having no clue why this kept happening to me despite having the feeling that it wasn’t random chance — it was intentional.
They always tried baiting me into conversations about drugs, too.
The profiles seemed to grow stranger in appearance as the years progressed, but at times I convinced myself I must not be up to date on the newest fads, like dressing up like an animal or cartoon character.
Dominant top doesn’t look all that dominant or masculine with his gay-ass hand on his chin, and Fuck Me Hard looks like he’s not even legal.
Good morning would you be open to a regular Fuck buddy?
Who the fuck says that?!?!?
The profiles became so vulgar and promiscuous, too. When I initially moved to DC in 2004, all the profiles advertised “safe sex only,” whereas suddenly they were advertising the opposite. Maybe the times were just changing without me. But when I met new guys, they never seemed to be part of this change nor did they experience any weird stuff or harassment like I was on Grindr.
Real of fake?
Early on in the fake profile epidemic, before I started taking screen-shots of everything I saw, before becoming suspicious that these profiles were nefarious, I began noticing all these HOT guys that had moved in right down the street from me; there hadn’t been one in 10 years whereas suddenly now there was a plethora. There were all these black guys, like Ben, looking only for white guys, like Ben, which is strange for DC given it’s gay community is a bit segregated, with all the new profiles reading:
Black pole for white hole!
These new black guys often wanted unprotected sex only – and they often were HIV-negative, too. If not, they were all on PreP and seemed to want guys that were older than them, like me. Hmm… Plus they all seemed to have boyfriends, too. It seemed like Ben or someone was trying to bait me into chatting with these profiles as a way of flipping the script. Or perhaps I was just reading too much into things too much. But the more I looked at the profiles, the more it seemed like subliminal messages were being conveyed.
My neighborhood never had a plethora of gay men before whereas suddenly it was booming. I’d get hit up by these guys that would talk with me a lot, always making plans to meet up that fell through. Despite living in the area, they’d suddenly disappear. I kept wondering where they found leases that allowed them to break the agreement without facing penalty, as that was the only way this could be happening.
As gross as this sounds, Ben was one that spoke of liking cum for lube. He even bought this gross-colored lube that appeared like cum; it was his favorite. So when the guy above mentioned this I was taken aback: it seemed strange. But is was subtle, and I couldn’t claim Ben was behind it but it just seemed to have this creepy, passive-aggressive flair of covert narcissism about it.
The bulk of online profiles suddenly appeared “off” in some way, shape, or form, many just didn’t seem “right.”
Both guys above look like they’re mentally retarded or something. Shirtless fat men, guys with their tongues dangling or drooling, or other oddities left me wondering:
Is it me or the profiles? Is it them or me?
Something about these Virginia boys just seems “off” when I looked at the profiles…
DC has an astronomically large gay population, yet I’d always see the same damn profiles, even the oddballs from Virginia, time and again, along with more odd ones. Or there’d be profiles that, for some reason, like AndJo above, just jumped out at me as being “off.” AndJo lives in Arlington per the above, although I see him constantly 2.28 miles away from me in DC all the time on Jack’d, and Arlington is at least 12 miles from me. I’m sure after a few, authentic freak-out profiles like the ApexPredator, I starting reading too much into things, but it only takes one freak-out experience to do that. Like with Andi-Joe, describing himself as:
Attractive without the ego, attitude or illusions of grandeur. Just be your authentic self and the rest will fall into place.
That just seems too close in lingo to Narcissistic Personality Disorder if you ask me, but then again, these words carry a particular significance to me.
But these Virginia guys sure seemed to be inundating my neighborhood, and it’s not like there were businesses or things that would draw them here.
Virginia’s not for lovers, it’s for hackers, stalkers and assholes!
Maybe I’m just reading too much into things… but with the below, his distance from me is 6.66 miles (the number of the devil), and the profile is donuts and coffee — the breakfast most associated with police — and he’s located in Arlington, VA.
I’d be texting with Ben who was angry at me for foiling his efforts to try and finish off showing me to the world as the “false self” he created for me. Mid-way through conversations with the two of us bickering when suddenly 3 guys would hit me up at once wanting sex. Strangely, I wasn’t logged onto Grindr when this happened either. This would enable Ben to convince me to stop texting him and I’d chat with these guys but in every case, they’d find an excuse not to meet me in the end. How he was able to pull this off is beyond me, but I knew it was happening only I couldn’t prove it of course. I couldn’t prove anything, just like with covert narcissist abuse. It can’t even be explained — it can only be experienced, making it a very dangerous and stealthy invisible evil.
Just like with Ben, I was always left wondering if he was intentionally fucking with my head or I was imagining things. My whole relationship with Ben I never stopped thinking:
Is it Ben, or is it me?
July 3, 2017
One night this guy hit me up online, asking to come over. I agreed, so I invited one of the few guys over who didn’t have a boyfriend, so I thought I was safe. I ended up falling asleep, and when I woke up – I’d been robbed. I could dial 911 but nothing else worked to call out from my phone – I tried calling T Mobile technical support and that wouldn’t go through either. My computer was suddenly frozen, not a page would load. Ben would later blame this all on “those people,” claiming it reflected them being angry at me.
Eventually I borrowed a neighbor’s phone after the robbery and contacted T Mobile – and surprisingly, someone had (I have no idea how) restricted my calling to “anytime always” minutes, meaning only a few, pre-selected numbers could be dialed from my phone, but neither I nor TMobile knew. Making matters even more complicated, the 1-800 number for TMobile had been changed to another number, which explained why I’d been unable to contact technical support. This was mind-numbing and seemed beyond invasive; the guy who robbed me managed to wrack up $1000 on my credit cards, although this was eventually reimbursed to me.
Because it was July 4th, the cops arrived super late due to the holiday and I was on the phone until 4AM dealing with the credit card matters. I ended up sleeping through my alarm, arriving to work late. When my supervisor asked me why, I didn’t know what else to say but the truth. My manager looked at me like I was the biggest liar on Earth despite being 100% honest. Several days later he took away my one day a week to work from home, which was the only time I could see my therapist, so I had to stop going. This royally sucked… and my supervisor thought I was crazy and dishonest on top of everything else, lovely…
Fake Bens seemed to be taking over Grindr, as far as the eye could see.
I started to reference the cyber-stalking matter to suspected fake profiles and they also acknowledge it:
This one had repeatedly talked to me, always asking me to parTy, and when I mention he’s part of the gay cyber-stalking fake profile brigade, he responds by saying he’ll stop harassing me.
I don’t know what made certain profiles stand out to me, but they just did, and they seemed like they couldn’t be representing actual people… I couldn’t always put my finger on it though. They’d typically show up within a mile of my condo, sometimes at zero feet as with Poz below, leaving me with a feeling of fear, like someone was indirectly saying:
I can see you, I’m watching you.
The “off” profiles had a tendency not to say hello but rather “tap” me, which in time created a instant panic anytime a guy tapped me. I’ve since learned this is intentional sensitization to a particular stimuli, which is used to trigger someone into a reaction regardless of what is going on, simply by the stimuli being present. In this case the stimuli was being “tapped” on Grindr. Poz would tap me and instantly I’d jump a few inches off my seat oddly. This technique can be done using particular sounds, words, colors, smells, you name it, but once the target is sensitized and associates it with fear or anxiety, anytime they encounter that stimuli they’ll freak out and act crazy — like at random times in front of other people. It’s often planned to make a target freak out in public, further portraying themselves as crazy. It’s a really mean thing to do to someone. Profiles also would do this with other triggers that sound stupid to anyone else, but to me they have significance, another example being those that randomly, told me to get them Ubers. It’s one thing if I offered, but it’s something totally different if someone just demands it out of the blue. That would make me immediately think they were Ben-induced fakes.
Poz kept contacting me with his same line about being in an open relationship, only fucking raw and wanting to leave his nut deep inside me. Fucking gross, and sponsored by our tax-payer dollars, too.
No matter how many times I’d block him, he’d resurface. This is harassment, plain and simple, this is not an actual person doing this on their own behalf, this is a fake.
The conversations I encountered continued to be strange…
…and their accompanying photos often stranger. The dude with the mouse-ears above gaslighted me into a world of confusion, trying to figure out how he knew my name or if he was referring to himself.
It was one day when googling the narcissistic smear campaign online that I stumbled upon all these articles on a related phenomenon referred to as “organized stalking” or “gang stalking.” These articles were horrific — they were the ultimate smear campaign that never ended. They claimed this was sponsored by crooked cops and federal agents along with those in the military — and there was absolutely no help available for this matter. Despite seeing many similarities, I was convinced something this outrageous and heinous coudln’t actually exist in a civilized society.
But the bizarre profiles just kept appearing, often quick to change their names if I blocked them because they freaked me out, only to reappear again.
And look… it’s him again Tapping me when I haven’t been logged onto Grindr in hours, complete with capiTal T.
Wow: a profile hit me up that’s an INFJ just like Ben and also… he’s from Texas, just like Ben… odd. Odder is why some guy in Texas would have come across my profile and reached out with an “Oink.”
Despite the resurgence of people wearing animal gear, I had to think maybe I was not with the times… maybe I’d missed out on this popular animal fetish craze…
…or maybe someone really was fucking with my head? Maybe that someone was Ben… these profiles often made me think of him; their language, the way they’d express interest in meeting immediately only to bail at the last minute. Or else they’d just be flat-out strange and weird like this guy below that looks like Tom Greene.
Are these profiles for real? Why is profile “pigtoiletholes” from Pittsburgh, PA, hitting me up all the way in Washington, DC? What kind of sick fuck comes up with a profile like this in the first place? Ben…
None of the typical faces I’d seen for years were present anymore, there was suddenly an influx of new, more often than not, non-African-American, crazy-looking folks with rather odd, similar-themed profiles having taken over my neighborhood.
The one fatty on the right later appeared with a new profile, this one advertising he injects meth. As a RN, I don’t know how he could find veins underneath all that fat, just being honest. The word point refers to injecting meth, gross!
I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t use these picture to attract potential suitors. But to each their own; maybe there are a lot more chubby-chasers than I was aware of… or maybe these stalkers were selecting the most outlandish profiles they could create. It definitely left me questioning my sanity, it definitely threw me off, and it definitely resulted in my sex life coming to a dead end.
More and more profiles would move in down the street, only to move out a few days later. I noticed several recurrent themes that seemed to want to flip the script I’d , like all having boyfriends, wanting threesomes, and wanting unprotected sex yet being HIV-negative. It truly seemed like someone was trying to paint me in a negative light, as often profiles would stop and say,
You like threesomes?
Regardless of my answer as I’d like to test the water and lie, they’d simply say nothing after. Same with my HIV status, it seemed like someone wanted to catch me lying and use it to show I was a bad person. The same with drugs, which to this day, I can’t seem to talk to a single profile without them cutting me off to ask:
Guy after guy was from – you guessed it – Virginia – yet somehow they were all super close to me in despite Virginia being a good 8+ miles away. Many of these guys would be super-close and hours later, sometimes the next day, they’d be hundreds of miles away. I realize people fly across the country but this didn’t seem normal, not with the number that did this.
Nearly all HIV-positive guys online left their HIV statuses blank; it essentially means they’re HIV-positive but people want to be viewed as a person not an illness. Yet for some reason random profiles would always point that out or ask about my “stats” or status. When I asked other HIV-positive friends if they encountered this, they said they never did. In the case of the below this profile was quick to delete itself after inquiring about my “stats”… why would someone take the time and effort to do all this in an attempt to hurt my feeling or make me feel inferior?
When I’d be at work 10 miles away, I noticed the same weird profiles showing up there were the same weird profiles showing up right at my home. It seemed like they were following me around somehow… but I couldn’t figure out how this was even possible. My once routine, predictable life was a thing of the far, distant past.
Life was changing: big brother was watching, or better said, bigger brothers were watching my every move. They had me under sort of unlawful surveillance, and they were on me from all angles, flexing their muscles. These profiles aren’t typical of what I’d seen in my neighborhood for the last 10 years, they weren’t typical of any guy putting his best picture up in hopes of meeting Mr. Right or Mr. Right-now, they were freakish.
I tried reporting the cyber-stalking to Grindr, and their response, below, left me all the more baffled.
Why would someone being cyberstalked –and when they’d likely only shared a torso so no face was ever shown — to be asked to take a picture of themselves holding their email on a written piece of paper… that seemed strange…
This girl had a new profile pic every day of the week!
And of course, POZ again, showing up right next to me as if inside my home, tapping me from 0 feet away… it was mean, it was gross, it was sociopathic what was going on.
Then there was the phase I referred to as the Juvaderm movement, as everyone’s pursed lips appeared to be recently plumped with injectables or else they just wanted to look annoying, leaving me to question if they were strange on purpose or if I was just mental.
Then there was the Botox-loving crowd that appeared to have gotten injections outside the normal range, leaving them with ptosis (droopy eyelid).
These are some ugly ass dudes!
Then the tongue dangling profiles arrived in great abundance!
Clearly I’m out of touch with what’s “in” these days or else the world is full of crazy people, not excluding me, although my crazy comes from being forced to endure this insanity. Why the hell are people putting photos up with their tongues hanging out? That’s not sex, it’s… creepy, it’s fucking creepy.
The guy kept showing up right next to me, a few hundred feet away at home. So I decided to ask him, and he said he’s not sure why people are doing it, but that he happens to like the picture.
Then there was Joe Lumpkin below, for example, who hit me up incessantly, only I don’t think that’s his actual name. It seems like someone went in and registered a random free-text number using odd names to include in associated profiles just to fuck with me, although maybe I’m just reading too much into this.
No matter what app I went on, there was bareback Joe spreading his butt cheeks and hitting me up.
A good year later Joe Lumpkin was still hitting me up on every site imaginable. Notice how he’s now a tongue dangler, too?
See my new profile on the left below: no photo, no identifiers, just a fake age. Nonetheless, Joe Lumpkin still managed to find me and unlock his photos and say “hey.” Notice how there’s only one check next to my response, asking why he said hello despite my profile being blank? One check means my message was sent whereas two means it was read. The green light next to Joe’s name means he’s logged in online, active on the site. Despite having messaged me, he doesn’t even bother reading my response and I checked repeatedly and he never did, it’s as if he’s not real… Go figure…
Then Joe managed to combine two Grindr fake profile themes into one, with both ptosis and tongue-dangling in one photo! This really started to feel like someone was doing this shit based on how I reacted to one strange theme after the next. Maybe I’m wrong, but I’m right about one thing: Grindr became royally fucked up.
Royally, royally fucked up and strange…
Remember: parTy with a capital T means meth, and poinTing refers to injecting meth. Suddenly the entire world on Grindr was now hooked on hard-core drugs.
Why were strangers from miles away hitting me up just to ask if I parTied? WTF was going on here?!?!?
This all came out of nowhere, and why Ben wasn’t going after this influx of drug users with his work and instead trying to bombard me with nothing but these pro-drug profiles was beyond me.It seemed like every profile and its gay uncle had to ask me to parTY, it was mind-numbing!
Why did my headless torso lead to strangers constantly approaching me on Grindr trying to sell me drugs? That’s not normal… and for some reason Ben and company isn’t going after them.
Poz was everywhere, creeping up on me from all directions, always “tapping” me. I now get “tapped” and I jump several feet due to being conditioned to this by good old poz, HIV+, HIV++, or whatever derogatory name this fake profile uses at any given time.
Poz with his ever ominous “tap” at 0 feet away — that’s not just random, that’s intention, and that’s being done somehow by knowing my precise location which is rather scary to think someone has gone to such lengths to harass me like this. It’s creepy, that’s for sure.
As soon as I got a new phone, thinking it would remain unknown as it wasn’t registered to me with an account (it was prepaid), his positive taps began immediately; there’s no escaping the fake profile stalking, and there’s no meeting a real, authentic guy to love me now that Ben is gone.
Hell, even when I wasn’t logged on, he would still be tapping me.
But it soon became apparent why he was “unblockable,” that’s because Poz or whatever derivation thereof had a ton of profiles. Grinder limits you to one account per phone so Poz would require a ton of phones in order to keep this up… that is, unless this wasn’t being done by phone but rather by perhaps a computer source. Or if Poz wasn’t a person but rather a gay’ng stalking icon that is the result of several people harassing me from numerous phones that somehow manage to know my IP address and how to track me that way. All I know is this is very creepy…
I was helpless in preventing this from taking place, that is, unless I cut off Grindr altogether. So I guess I can’t say I was helpless from getting away from him but more than anything, I wanted to meet someone authentic after Ben — someone that could actually love me back. I believe that, like everyone else, I deserve to find someone that loves me for me, a relationship where love is sacred and not used as a weapon. And I believe I deserve to live my life without outsiders invading my life to punish me extra-judicially for offending Ben in 2015. Calling Ben a narcissist turned out to be the worst mistake of my lifetime. But if one thing’s for sure, it’s that when he returned, I didn’t pre-judge him, I didn’t think anything negative about him. I thought the world about him and I loved him more than anything in the universe, even if it was just an “act” he’d put on to ensure I saw my fantasy lover in him.
Imagine the one place you always went to meet romantic potentials had been secretly inundated with fakes that had been customized to make you feel ugly, to magnify your insecurities, to highlight your flaws amidst a crowds of (fake) people that are flawless. Imagine they set out to desensitize you in believing that all things bad — drugs, promiscuity, reckless behavior — were the norm, and you were the abnormal one for living your life without them. Now, imagine the effect that would have on you over time: would that have a positive impact on how you viewed the world? Would that encourage healthy lifestyle behaviors and attitudes, or would it induce the opposite? These profiles were there for one reason: to negatively influence my life. For someone to waste the time, resources, energy, and technology to do this represents a horrible abuse of power and the ushering of an era in which sociopaths rule the world. This was truly sick, but no matter how many Grindr accounts I created, no matter how many new phones or second phones I acquired, nothing would bring back the good old days on Grindr as I’d grown accustomed to.
In the years preceding this, I believed that Grindr was, for the most part, real people and an “accurate” of gay culture, only somehow I was the ugly duckling, the one with the awful luck in being different, that my face so ugly that I was immediately blocked when it was revealed, and that I was unlovable. Over time, over years, I came to believe I didn’t fit in, that I wasn’t good enough, and that I didn’t deserve to be loved. This “profile gaslighting” began right after I angered Ben in 2015, but it was gradual, it started out with just a few profiles here and there only to suddenly erupt in them taking over the moment I recorded Ben’s admission about the cloned phone. And stuck inside this gaslit alter-world of Grindr I remained with no way of figuring out how it was being done, nor how to get out of it. It was only in time, after the phone hacking incident with the Apex predator, that I began to realize some of this was fabricated with the intention of tearing me down.
One day I got the below message, calling me a narcissistic psycho. That’s not something one typically encounters in a random chat outing on Grindr; that’s not something I’ve ever heard before except when Ben would project at me, calling me a narcissist.
One line above stood out at me in particular:
And that’s what you proved to be.
While I can’t locate an email or text that includes that infamous line, it was one of this “flip-the-script” lines used to attempt to make me feel bad and be punished for having addressed a topic Ben disliked. It was used just like his other infamous lines:
Thank you for showing your true colors…
… or the infamous:
This was no longer something that “might” be happening — this was definitely happening and Ben was definitely involved. But why would he go through all this work, time and effort to do this to me? And while having sex with me 2000 times, promising me a future together and marriage and all that shit? What the fuck has taken over my life? This is complete insanity yet… there was Ben was acting all the more strange. Like, for real?
Whatever is going around you is beyond fucked up. It’s to the point it’s driving me crazy and changing me in ways I don’t like and needs to stop now. Not interested in who’s doing what or why but it needs to leave my life now.
WTF? Must be nice to be able to say that since Ben created this shit stain and left it in my life permanently. Ummm… maybe Ben doesn’t have any interest in who’s doing it or why because he knows he did it and I caught on and he looks like a super narcissist now. And his other remark — how he cares about me! Yea right… he cares so much, and is bothered so much, that he wants to know when he can come by for sex. Gotta love that Ben, he sure can act the part of anything that’s needed except acting the part of concerned. He flunks in that one. Wait – and what’s this below? Someone is now fucking with Ben’s mind and phone like with mine? When did that begin and why did it suddenly end the moment after finishing his sentence? He just had mini-gang-stalking for a few seconds and it went away.
Or — my favorite emails below that make me want to vomit.
I thought Ben honestly had feelings for me, albeit different than mine and not actual love; but I thought he had fondness, I thought he saw value in me, and I never imagined he’d pull of something like this, the invisible holocaust of gay chat apps and sites. He effectively cock-blocked me since 2015 I came to realize on these apps by infiltrating them with nothing but fake profiles. He spent years trying to gaslight me into believing everyone did drugs and expected money for sex. How could he do this to me? Why would he do this to me? What in the hell happened to my once beloved Ben?
It makes me sad reading the above because I truly loved and adored Ben to end, and he was there using fake love and teaching me how to have sex while leading me to the slaughter. It’s heart-breaking: how anyone could use a long-term relationship, what’s considered to be the bedrock of society, to try and have someone arrested for fabricated crimes, to set someone up for slow-cooked death by way of organized stalking Zersetzung poop, how those working with Ben would go on to flip this all on me, portraying me to the universe, to my job, to everyone they could possibly reach as the “false self” Ben created for me shows there is no such thing as inalienable rights and freedoms, at the end of the day, those in power that live above the law dictate how the law is administered and there’s no way to prove it, there’s no way to change it, and your entire life can be taken from you simply for making a mistake involving a word. Clearly that word meant nothing to mean – just read the above again, you can see how I didn’t think of Ben as anything but my dream come true. Only that dream came to be the worst nightmare imaginable…
First song composed and performed by me.