My dear friends,
It has been a pleasure being a source of your entertainment for the past twenty-nine years, but all good things must come to an end. It is time I say goodbye.
For the past year, I have been struggling with severe depression brought on by my own thirst for knowledge. Writing is as important to me as the oxygen we breathe. Without it, I am nothing. All I ever wanted was to write the best book ever and research into my latest novel would end up being my downfall. The topic was touchy but something I dreamt of my entire life. Every single book or story I have written all encompasses certain aspects of this dream. It is what fuels my desire to write. No more.
The people I met decided it would be fun to crush me. I became a little obsessed with my research and they took advantage of it, using my hopes and dreams to terrorize me. And everyone treated them like they were the victims and I was some sort of criminal. No one can understand what it's like to feel real terror to the point that you believe the only way out is to end your life. That is what they put me through, starting with the spreading of lies that would hurt me and eventually remove me from all social media. But that wasn't enough. They actually threatened my freedom, saying they would use my words against me to land me in jail. It was heart breaking. I knew if they chose to tell tall tales about our relationship and the research we were doing, that I could very well be framed for something I didn't do. I was supposed to keep my mouth shut and do nothing while they were out there with my words as weapons, and yes, they also procured pictures of me that could be used against me. For weeks, I was physically sick and so paranoid the cops would show up at my door any moment. I fell into a deep depression, which caused me one car accident and the job I had for eleven years. To this day, I feel nothing but revulsion for the passion that drove me to write.
And to make matters worse, I spent six years of my life on my latest novel and over $1,000 to perfect it. It was going to be my best novel yet. These people stole my money and my book cover and scared me away from ever pursuing this type of research again. I made an attempt to retrieve my book cover files. I was met with hostility and more threats. I put everything I had into this book and they ripped it from my cold, dying hands.
I tried to get help at one point. I asked for support. When all I needed was a hug and a glimmer of hope that everything would be fine, all I got was advice to "get over it" and "move on". It's not easy to stop living in fear or just wake up one morning and be happy again. My life is empty without my writing. It was the only thing that kept me going, so I guess now I will be moving on to a better place. Shelby Patrick, as of this writing, will just cease to exist.
But I won't name names. Despite their goal to ruin me, I could never do the same to them. Those of you that know me will know who I speak of and hopefully, someone one day will have the courage to approach this devil and thank him for taking a naive fool, befriending her, and then damaging her because he was bored. I was stupid for trusting the wrong people. I never had any malicious intent in my heart. It's a pity this had to happen. Some of us are strong. I tried to be but it's hard when you're alone and fighting demons that never lose. I'm sorry.
What I did...what I wanted...should have never been enough for someone to destroy me over.
Signing Off For The Last Time