By Myra Sue St. Clair Baldwin
I did a lot of journaling when I was homeless. I will need to go back and read my notes when I am ready to write more extensively about being homeless. In a way, I was more privileged than many of the homeless people at the shelter in that I could go back and forth between my parents’ place in the country and the urban shelter located in downtown Washington. I had been through a lot of trauma though due to the spy operation I had been through. Fortunately I had a bus pass and could easily access the mental health system, which included the Evergreen Club where I could do light volunteer work in a comfortable environment and got to participate in groups at Frontier Behavioral Health which included art group. I wasn’t feeling particularly artistically inclined though, as I lost a lot of my creative energy when I went off of uppers. And I went off of the uppers due to the privacy invasion. So I guess that’s the “silver lining” of getting spied on, since my brain’s not going to become eroded by the toxic chemicals in meth, but I’m still angry about the psychological torture I experienced and plan to bring my former spies – including family, family of my exhusband, and former neighbors – to justice.