victimfocus : Most liked Posts

bracrumbs said:

Silly! If you tell a doctor you’re a bit sad, they leap up, flick through DSM-V (imported), open a drawer and start throwing medication at you!

I went to the GP after my dad died from a long and hideous cancer diagnosis to be signed off work for a few weeks and now I have a diagnosis of BPD and an opiate addiction.

(I absolutely do not. The GP was lovely, signed me off for as long as I asked for and asked me to come back if I felt i was overwhelmed by the grief and needed any additional psychological help. They also provided details of local grief support groups)

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theeyecollector said:

That documentary is such a wasted opportunity. There’s an interesting story to be told here about the risks and trade-offs of being a public figure (especially one who shares their personal life extensively online) and what right other people have to discuss / critique you. Creators make all kinds of claims about what tattle does, but if you take away everything that’s not backed by evidence you’re left with the facts that tattlers are: 1) good at piecing together publicly-available info to figure out things and 2) a bit bitchy. Neither of which is yet illegal or even, I would say, particularly morally bad. Besides, some of the posts on here are genuinely insightful and important critiques of questionable things that creators are doing or saying. The gutter press, despite writing condescending morally grandstanding snot pieces about how this site signals the moral decay of society at large, is actually all over it stealing the threads for content (something taken from the Zoe / Alfie thread is all over the tabloids today). The actual problem is that gossip has moved from being between friends irl into these online public forums that creators can access, and they can’t help reading their own threads and getting angry or upset about the things that are said. And we need to have a much more grown up discussion about how the actual problem is people monetising their personal lives and not having the emotional fortitude to stay away from reading comments about themselves. If you share something about yourself online to make money that’s your choice and there are consequences. You can’t just silence all discussion of your actions, that’s not how society works.

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Itchy of Itchington said:

Perhaps it was the receptionist at the hotel where Jess claimed she had to mime oral sex and scissoring so that they knew she and Jaimi were lesbians and got a double bed instead of two singles

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Espresso11 said:

Gang stalking

Jay and I had clung to each other for dear life during the turmoil. No matter what was being said about us online, we knew that our marriage was sacred to us and that it was the only stable thing we had left. When the world felt hostile, our bedroom was our oasis. We realised fairly early on that the pressure and the trauma of being stalked could easily end our relationship if we did not commit to protecting it. We saw the tactics quickly, the bets on our marriage ending.

We chose to prioritise our love, and our connec-tion, over everything else.

As I have always taught, coping mechanisms come in all shapes and sizes during trauma. I am often thankful that neither of us were into tak-ing drugs or heavy drinking during the stalking because one, or both of us, would definitely be dead by now. Instead, rightly or wrongly, we were each other's coping mechanism. Remain-ing connected whilst feeling like we were being battered by a hurricane was complex, but look-ing back, it was probably the only thing keeping us going.

Sometimes that connection would be sharing a bottle of wine in a hot bath together. Sometimes it would be ignoring our responsibilities and binge-watching trashy series that made us for-get about what was happening to us. Sometimes it would be booking flights and disappearing for a break from reality. Other times, it would be reading books to each other or trying to master increasingly difficult recipes, but sometimes connection looked like a long weekend of sex and intimacy, only ever emerging for snack breaks.

It had been one of those weekends in late 2023 and we were lazing in bed on a Sunday evening sharing a box of grapes, when I noticed an email pop up on my phone. Jay was lying across my stomach as I started to screw up my face at the strange message. Crunching another grape, she asked if I was okay, and what I had seen.

I put my finger to my lip, silently asking her to hold her questions until I had finished reading one of the most disturbing emails I had ever read in my life.

"Jess, you're scaring me. What are you reading?" She sat up, searching my face for a clue. I tried to respond, but I couldn't find the words. My throat dried up and my heart pounded in my chest. I suddenly felt extremely unsafe.

"Are the doors locked?" I whispered to her, grab-bing some clothes from the floor.

Jay jumped up from the bed, raising her voice. "Why? Why are you asking me that? I don't know!"

I dropped my phone on to the duvet and stood up, confused and frightened.

"Let's just check all the doors, first. Okay?" I whispered firmly again, signalling to my wife to lower her own voice.

In less than 30 seconds, the mysterious email had transformed our safe haven into an exten-sion of the danger outside and all I could think about was the doors and windows downstairs. Shaking, I quickly checked every lock and alarm system in the house, testing them all one by one before returning to our bedroom.

"I think you need to tell me what the fuck you just read, Jessica," Jay demanded in the hushed tone I had requested.

But just as I opened my mouth to speak to her, I remembered a line of the email and reached for the notebook on my bedside table. I always keep a notebook near my bed, as I often journal my dreams, or wake up from revelations or ideas that I note down. I flicked to the back and pulled out my fountain pen with the deep purple ink.

"Turn your phone off and don't speak-com-municate here instead,' I wrote, half terrified, half worried that I had finally cracked under the pressure.

We both turned our phones off.

"What the hell is going on?' She scribbled underneath.

I just got an email from a dodgy Proton Mail account saying I was being watched and I was going to be killed.'

She read the sentence, looking up at me in panic.

'Do you think it's real?' she scrawled, passing me the pen.

'Fuck knows. But fuck risking it.'

She nodded and wrote back.

'Yeah, fair. What else did it say?"

We passed the pen back and forth, the way my little sister and I would do as teenagers many years ago when we needed to talk to each other about something that no one else could overhear.

"It said that they needed to inform me that there were plans to kill me, that I was being targeted and stalked by a group. It said the group were watching me.'

Chills ran through me as I looked out of the bed-room window.

'Was it a threat?'

I shook my head as I took the pen from Jay.

'No, it was a warning. The person is warning me to try to protect me, not to threaten me.'

'What if it is fake?' she wrote back quickly.

'Then it's someone playing with me. But what if it's not?'

She looked at me, her eyes filling with tears. She was pale, shaking, and tired. Every week, some-thing new cropped up, pushing us further and further into a state of alarm. I hated to see her so traumatised by everything that was happening to me, but I was powerless. I was trapped in this nightmare alongside her, and I had no idea how to get us both out of it. I breathed for a few mo-ments while I thought. I kept hold of the pen and wrote something to her that I had been secretly worrying about for weeks.

"The email also says my phone is hacked. And yours is, too. Maybe that's what's wrong with them?'

We both stared at each other. Admittedly, our phones had been playing up for a couple of months. We would be on the phone to each other when weird noises would break through the call. Both of us would be able to hear it at times, a strange background noise, as if there was a third person on the call in a busy atmosphere. One time, we were having a sensitive conversation about work when we suddenly heard someone else on our call. We had both heard it, asked each other to confirm, and then put the phone down.

Another time, we were on a facetime to a colleague who was chatting away, completely unaware, whilst both Jay and I could hear a loud, strange, high-pitched static noise through the phone. It was so loud and unnerving that we couldn't concentrate on the conversation with our colleague, who couldn't hear it at all. Other times, it would be weird clicking noises or beeps.

'I think we need to get rid of them. Something is wrong. How would the sender know about our phones being weird?"

'But who would want to hack our phones? And how would they do it?'

I hesitated. I had no idea. I knew nothing about phone tapping, beyond the fact that it existed. The newspapers had been doing it to politicians and celebrities for years, so there must have been a way to do it, I reasoned.

I feel like I am going crazy. Are we being toyed with, or am I going to end up dead?'

Disassociating from the panic, I looked at my own flowing cursive in my favourite purple ink. The way my letters joined to each other. The smooth, deep purple ink on the cream page of my notebook. I imagined what it would be like to shrink into tiny form and slide into the paper along my letters.

I stared at the silent question to my wife: am I going to die?

She sat in silence for a while, tapping the pen on the page, deep in thought.

'Do you remember when the guys contacted you last year to warn you that your name was com-ing up on the dark web a lot?

I raised my eyebrows at her. I had totally forgot-ten about that.

"Yeah... I wrote back.

'You think we could ask them for help? Do they still do covert work?'

Jay was referring to a group of guys I had done some work with years back, who had unexpect-edly texted me to warn me that whilst they were on an undercover operation, they had coinci-dentally found a group of people who had been watching and discussing my work and my social media posts at length. The text didn't go into detail, but it told me that my name was coming up in places that were extremely dangerous, and that I should be careful. When I had replied to ask for more information, they had told me that they couldn't give me further detail, but they would tell me if I was ever at imminent risk.

'Yeah... but they are all on jobs, god knows where. I never know where they are when they are on jobs.'

'I don't think we should go to the police over this,' Jay wrote back. I exhaled slowly. She only wrote what I was already thinking, but there was something unnerving about us both realis-ing that the police were not the right people for this, and that they would likely think we were going crazy.

Maybe we were?

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VeniVidiVicki said:

But she’s so cunning with that kind of thing normally! Like calling her fictitious wife Jay to ensure no one would ever suspect she was anything to do with her real wife Jaime.

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FourSeasonSoupObsessive said:

Were two of the other five women warned Jaimi and Jess?! As i can easily see that all involved were told to just stay the hell away from each other. Not because anyone’s positon was judged “right” but just to damp down any further accusations.

She’s right that the threads about Jess are not because of high book sales or stellar success- that’s absolutely true!

It’s the years of grifting, lying and the concerted efforts in trying to get this place shut down that inspires me. And as I so often say, if ye seek attention on the internet, attention on the internet ye shall find…

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10% said:

Another professional calling her out today

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byefeliciax said:

How long before this one disappears from Goodreads too?

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Boogs said:

Why oh why has my WiFi gone down this weekend of all weekends! I have no signal by my house so I am literally sat in my car at the side of the road on the way back from Aldi catching up

Although it’s hard to give a shit about Jaimi considering how she has behaved since she has been ensnared by Dr Exploitation she is probably one her biggest victims. She was just a kid and a fan when she started being groomed by someone not just older than her but who already had many years of experience in manipulation. When she is discarded and reframed to be an abuser (which will undoubtedly happen at some stage as it’s Jess and every narcs MO) she will be totally lost. Her fucking mum should hang her head in shame. How will Jaimi ever escape when her mum is part of it, she has been isolated and her entire life revolves around her wife? She will be left with nothing other than a trashed reputation and not knowing who she is. She may be an adult who is making some awful choices but I maintain she is victim of abuse. Also if reading that makes her feel so awful as she has previously said she should question why if she doesn’t deep down know it’s the truth?

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qqwertyy said:

This is very niche and I only know about Jess Taylor from her tattle nonsense but Kerry Daynes (any true crime fans will know - and hopefully love - her!) has just dropped an interesting Substack post

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Click. Lie. Repeat? Inside The Claims of A Self-Styled Trauma Psychologist Who Markets Online

I often receive emails from women who have been stalked, some for months, some for years, and who have finally reached out for help.

kerrydaynes.substack.com