Life Story: Raine Street, Khandallah Road, Hutt Road, part A

Raine Street, Khandallah Road and Hutt Road, part A

Let us write the story from the moment of my arrival at 6 Raine Street in Wellington on the 27th of April, 2023.

My father drove me from the Porirua Police station where I had been that morning to his mother’s house at 6 Raine Street in Karori, Wellington. It is just across the road from the Karori mall. I will post two pictures.

My father probably should not have been allowed near me, given that he had attacked me on the 25th of April 2026. But that’s a story for another day. The police attended the assault call out, but failed to lay charges against him or to issue a police safety order. Anyway, there was no one else to meet me and I was too crippled to walk anywhere and I had nowhere else to go. So I ended up going with my father. We got a strong cup of tea from the McDonald’s on the way from the police station to 6 Raine Street. Which I very much needed. The police didn’t have any tea available, only coffee and Milo. I can’t remember if we got anything to eat from the McDonald’s, or if it was just tea. I think we got breakfast as well. I needed a caffeinated drink. I’m a massive tea addict.

We arrived at 6 Raine Street, and I slowly got out of the car. I was achey and exhausted, and running almost purely on adrenaline. I was quite unwell don’t forget, and even holding myself in a stable way while riding in a car or the prisoner transport vehicle was a real effort for me. And so then, I walked down the side of the house towards the back door.

I climbed up the ramp at the rear of the house. I walked across the deck, and then into the lounge. I asked them for a bucket of warm, soapy water and also for another bucket of water so that I could clean my feet and then rinse them off. I was of course incapable of wearing shoes and socks, and so my feet were filthy from the dirt of walking through police stations and prison cells. I was wearing shorts and a sleeveless top at the time. I wasn’t feeling all that well. I washed my feet and I dried them with a towel.

My nana was there, as was my father.

My mother was staying elsewhere in town. She came to visit perhaps the next day. I can’t quite remember when exactly she first visited.

They put me in one of the two spare rooms. It was the one adjacent to my Nana’s room. All of my stuff had been moved there overnight. Or at least much of it. And so I had my own bed, my own chair and a fair bit of other miscellaneous items. It was nice to see that at least my bed and chair were there.

Sally: So when you arrived, what was in the room?

David: There was a desk, a chair, two beds, maybe a second chair. There were two small chests of drawers. One of the two beds was my own bed brought from home, the other one belonged to my Nana. One of the two chairs was my own, brought from home. The other chair was already there. We had a lamp on the desk as well. The room had three windows, but one of them seemed to be jammed shut. I had a wardrobe. And quite a bit of clutter. I had so much clutter everywhere. The room was full of stuff. It wasn’t exactly clutter, it was just stuff. They had moved all of my stuff in a hurry.

Sally: What sort of stuff?

David: Just everything I owned… or much of it. A lot of it was in the conservatory down one step in the front of the house. I couldn’t reach that stuff because I couldn’t use the steps. Which means I struggled with doing a full inventory. They should have put it in the other spare room, but they refused to. And instead they put it in the conservatory where I couldn’t reach it.

Sally: Who refused to? Who refused to put it in the spare room? Or I guess I should ask who moved your stuff from your old house?

This is my Nana, father, Uncle Andy (former mayor of Wellington and current member of parliament) who we are talking about here. At least I think that Uncle Andy helped out at that phase of moving. Yes, I think he did. And he came to visit once a few weeks later to help me to shift some furniture around. And he helped me to hunt for apartments too, but I’ll talk about that later. He was in between being mayor and being a member of parliament at the time.

And don’t forget that these guys were using cell towers and satellites to cause me to remain crippled. I repeat, they were actively keeping me crippled. And they were doing this after having crippled me in the first place. And they knew that they were keeping me crippled.

Next, I had to sort through all of my belongings and general stuff to find things and see which items I had and which items I did not have. And sorting through stuff and finding things and throwing rubbish away is a hassle at the best of times. But in my case it was even harder given my physical state. I also had to arrange things in such a manner that I could find things and make them accessible.

Sally: Was it difficult to get to your stuff in the front room? I.e. the conservatory? And did that cause problems for you?

David: Yes, it was difficult to get into the conservatory. And because I couldn’t get into the conservatory I wasn’t able to do a full and proper inventory of my things, sort them out, and tidy up all of my stuff. Also, all of my belongings were a mess! Even in my room. And I had to sort through them over the following 2-3 months to tidy them up, package things better, throw out junk and replace them. I should mention though that no one in my family was willing to store even a few large boxes of goods long term in their garage. Finding things in the boxes in my room was a hassle, as a lot of the stuff was just chucked in there in a semi organised manner.

One real struggle though is that I can’t navigate (physical environments) properly. And I can’t sort through drawers and stuff properly. And so I needed things to be organised in a particular way. I can’t just move properly. And so I bought things like laundry baskets to place on top of the spare bed so that I could access things inside them. Accessibility is a massive issue for me. Using things like baskets and keeping things visible and easily accessible is of vital importance to me, given my poor eyesight and mobility.

I also had to do things like ask other people to move even moderately heavy objects for me and also to open low down drawers for me, so that I could see what was in them.

And I also had to ask people to fetch things from the conservatory (front room) for me, because I couldn’t get in there myself. And I had a fair few boxes of goods to work my way through in there. I used to get one box out at a time to sort through and repackage. But I actually repurchased some stuff because I couldn’t find it or figure out where it was. I also lost a bunch of stuff because people hid it or I otherwise couldn’t sort through it. At least I think I did.

Anyway, I worked to sort through my belongings, and also to make sure that things were accessible and easy to reach.

My nana was quite mean to me about tidiness and mess and stuff like that. Which is unfortunate. For what it is worth, I really loved my nana when I was a child! But I guess she never really cared about me all that much. By the way, she used to be a devout Christian (or so I thought) who converted at a Billy Graham rally.

I’ll say a little bit more about her being mean about things like tidiness and organisation now.

She used to make a fuss about things like my keeping objects in baskets on the spare bed, instead of putting them in drawers. She would nag me, and act as though my being allegedly messy was potentially jeopardising my ability to stay in her home. I actually had to keep my belongings out where they were visible and raised to be able to reach them.

She also shifted all of my stuff to difficult to reach places. She shifted my food in the pantry up to a higher shelf. And she shifted my stuff in the freezer to a lower shelf than I could actually reach. And she put my pots and pans in a lower shelf than I could reach.

For example, on one occasion she insisted that I reach down low enough to retrieve a loaf of bread from the bottom drawer of the freezer. I actually had a habit of just asking other people to do it for me. That is how I typically retrieved a frozen loaf of bread from the freezer, to put it in the pantry to thaw. My body (electronically crippled as it was) couldn’t bend and reach that way! Not in a safe and appropriate manner anyway. She did that sort of thing, asking me to do things that weren’t physically sensible, or were otherwise bad for me. Another thing that she did similar to that was to take a great big box of books and just startle me with them and dump them in my arms, even though I shouldn’t be lifting them. Which seems like a minor thing, but these sorts of things were frequent and constant. Don’t forget that I was extremely badly crippled.

Next, she was very fussy about things like crumbs. And so I had to be vigilant about making sure that crumbs didn’t drop on stuff. Before I go on, I should point out that I had difficulty with things such as merely navigating environments and basic tasks such as preparing food or doing laundry. And so to always have to be vigilant about things like crumbs was a bit excessive. It was a hassle. I had to go back and tidy them again and again. She had this idea that ants would show up and cause problems. It was an “ongoing narrative” of hers.

And also, I was so screwed up physically that I might struggle sometimes with basic tasks such as merely sitting at the table to just eat. And I invented various techniques and kluges to get things done. For example, this is how I ate: I would get a lightweight plastic plate and put food on it, and hold it up to just below my chin using my left hand, pinning my left elbow to my ribs, and then I would eat off of it with my right hand. I did this so that I didn’t drop crumbs or food. But it had to be one of the lightweight plastic plates or I couldn’t manage it properly. And I preferred to eat standing up. Yes, tableware and crockery was heavy to me and a matter of tactical and strategic importance to me back then! My Nana had just two of these lightweight plastic plates in her house. Just as an aside, she used to hide or bury them sometimes in amongst a pile of crockery so that I had to dig through it to get to the plastic plates. And on one occasion I fumbled a ceramic plate and broke it (if I remember correctly).

And she had rules about doing all of the dishes straight away, or close to straight away. And she had these ideas that dishes shouldn’t be visible on the bench. The bench should be clear, or something like that. It should always be clear. And she had this idea that her support worker “Addy”

shouldn’t do them, and shouldn’t be responsible for them. And that my Nana shouldn’t have to do them. Which led to problems.

I will explain those problems now. So when I had to do dishes back then I had to walk around back and forth to rest my back and relax it between individual physical motions in the kitchen. So I would scrub a few times, and then walk a bit, and then scrub a bit, and then walk. And rinse and then walk and so on and so on. And so it took much longer to do the dishes than it should have. And besides that, the kitchen was close to the lounge, and so I was walking past the doorway to the lounge again and again, and it got on my Nana’s nerves while she tried to watch TV. But that’s what I had to do to be able to do dishes. I had to walk around so that my posture could “rejigger” itself. And it took longer to do dishes than it should have. And I was always micromanaging my physical movements. And anyway, that was all just something to manage. Nana ended up choosing to do them sometimes. And sometimes I did them after she went to bed, although I was encouraged to not stay up late in the dining room and kitchen, for some unknown reason. And as for the lateness and nighttime thing, this was unfortunate because I liked to sit up late at night quietly listening to music in the dining room. But my Nana didn’t want me up late at night quietly sitting in the dining room to listen to music. I guess she just didn’t want people walking around the house late at night. But that’s just a bit of digression.

Now as for Nana’s support worker/s, even a rinsed plate, a rinsed and wiped knife, one teacup and a teaspoon….  These things can’t be left for Nana’s support workers to deal with. And I might have to rush to tidy them away or do them myself before the support worker did them (they sometimes just did them).

And also I wasn’t supposed to have Lilia, my support worker, doing the dishes at 11 am or whenever she showed up, because it was considered to be “disruptive” and the also the kitchen was an open plan kitchen with the dining room, where my Nana often socialised.

I have put much of this in here as a means of talking about the micromanagement I had to do of my body and posture. And of the way that people made things difficult for me. Please don’t forget that they made an active decision, renewed every single day, to keep me crippled using their electronic weapons (cell towers and satellites).

We also had a dishwasher. Which she basically refused to use (always?). I don’t know why she refused to use the dishwasher, but she did. Perhaps she wanted to make things more difficult for me.

She was also quite cruel when it came to things like my having access to the accessible shower and also insisting that I trim my toenails (more about that later, it was actually a big deal), or else be kicked out into the street. And she also caused arguments, just plain, straight face-to-face artificially contrived conflict and confrontation. Perhaps she was trying to create a reaction so that she would have an excuse to throw me out (she was actually doing that, or trying to). She was being cruel, to try to create a reaction. But I think that I will talk about those things a little bit later. They’re in a slightly different category to the other stuff. I’ll come back to it later.

Sally: Wow. I can’t understand why your Nana would be so cruel! What kind of a horrible woman would deliberately cause such difficulties to her grandson! And how dare she not tell him why he was crippled?

David: I think that she was under the sway of my father somewhat. But that at the same time I think she is just a bad egg. I feel that she is rotten to the core.

Let’s move on.

***

Now back to the day of my arrival

One of the first things I did once I got there was to borrow my father’s phone to get online to google “fertility clinics” so that I could try to chase up the IVF thing. And I got a list of all of the fertility clinics in New Zealand who offer IVF as a service. My phone wasn’t working for the moment. It just kind of cut out from the internet. I managed to get my own phone back on to the internet and on to my Nana’s wifi shortly afterwards.

But back to the fertility clinic thing.

I got a list of all of the fertility clinics in New Zealand where they do IVF. 

IVF and Lily

I knew that something had happened with Lily and IVF because Amanda had become pregnant when she was up in Auckland on holiday with her mother (which was when she was due to ovulate). And also because I had done a DNA test showing that the child was mine. And how can that happen other than through IVF? She clearly got IVF while she was on holiday up north (or pretended to be “up north”).

I actually suspected long before Lily was born that the child was created by means of IVF, and that the sperm was mine (they wanted a genius baby).

And I also felt that Amanda was probably infertile, for reasons I have probably explained elsewhere.

I had already tried contacting the Wellington Fertility Associates clinic, where I felt that it was mostly likely that she had received IVF treatment. I had contacted them by means of phone call, email, and a physical, handwritten letter. I hadn’t had any success with getting information from them. I had done this back when I was in Paraparaumu.

Amanda had gone to fertility associates in the past. They diagnosed her with endometriosis, and she also had been diagnosed with an ovarian adhesion (this is where the ovary sticks to the lining of something). And it was thought that the ovarian adhesion might be connected with her infertility. She got surgery for it which seems to have resolved the issue. And I think she had this done in connection with the Wellington branch of Fertility Associates. I can’t remember the details as to who did the actual surgery. But I think that a fertility associates doctor did it in an operating theatre in Wellington hospital and it was funded by Amanda’s mother’s medical insurance.

She also got some generic fertility testing done, in which my sperm was tested also. To see why she wasn’t pregnant. And I gave a sample for that.

I will now talk about that sample and that test.

I wasn’t healthy enough, or otherwise capable of going in to the clinic in Wellington to give a sample. But the sample needed to get into Wellington within an hour to still be suitable for testing. And so we weren’t sure what to do. And so the plan was that I create the sample at home (gross) and then give the jar to Amanda. Who gives the jar to her mother who drove quickly into town to give it to the testing clinic.

This was for testing purposes only. I did not give this sample to Amanda and therefore her mother for the purposes of creating an infant by means of IVF.

This sample was later used to conceive a baby by means of IVF (a test tube baby).

And that’s what I have to say about IVF for the moment.

*

Sally: So you never gave a sperm sample to Amanda for the express purpose of having a child by means of IVF?

David: That is correct. I never gave Amanda or her mother a sperm sample to be used for the express purpose of creating a baby by means of IVF.

Sally: Did you sign a permission slip telling the fertility clinic that they could do IVF with your sperm or that they could do IVF treatment on your wife?

David: No, I did not.

Sally: Did you ever see Amanda taking the drugs that you have to take in order to be able to do IVF? I am well aware that you have to take special pills or get injections to do IVF.

David: No, I did not.

Sally: She must have hidden that from you. And who knows how many rounds of IVF she had to do to get pregnant and how long she was on the pills or taking the injections.

David: Yes, she must have hidden it from me. I gather that it actually involves a lot of injections. Maybe up to 40 of them. She must have hidden from me the fact that she was getting IVF. She and her mother are very secretive and dishonest people.

I never saw her doing injections.

Sally: Were you trying to get her pregnant?

David: Yes. Out of guilt and a sense of obligation (we were married after all), I was trying to get her pregnant. But I might explain that another day. In the state I was in back then I would have preferred not to be having sex in the first place, and also I would have preferred not to try to get her pregnant. I felt that we didn’t really have the capacity to raise a child properly given my serious health problems. We didn’t have enough space in the house, and we didn’t have enough money. And also I felt that she had mental health issues (as a result of being molested as a child) and was probably not fit to be a mother.

*

Sally: Okay, please keep moving on.

David: And so I was thinking about contacting all of the other IVF clinics in New Zealand. There are Fertility Associates clinics across the country (it’s a chain of fertility clinics). And there are some other fertility clinics in New Zealand as well. I have since contacted all of them. Some multiple times. I haven’t got the information I wanted from them.

In the end, I decided to contact the Department of Internal Affairs instead, or at least first. The Department of Internal Affairs has a database for this sort of things. It is called the HART register. That stands for the “Human Assisted Reproductive Technology” register. 

***

And I also thought of trying to get DNA evidence as well. In fact I bought some testing kits for getting DNA samples. This was to test for something called “ancestry DNA”. Ancestry DNA testing is when you find out where your ancestors were from. I was going to compare Lily’s DNA with my own DNA, and try to see what the extra DNA was to figure out if it matched up with Amanda’s ancestry. And if it didn’t match up with her ancestry, then that was indicative proof of Lily being conceived by means of IVF. And it also might help me to understand who her genetic mother was.

I’ll talk about those two things soon. But first I want to address a few other things.

Sally: Okay, go for it. Tell me about the experiences you had in talking to the Department of Internal Affairs, and also tell me about your attempts to do the DNA stuff. But you can tell me about that in a moment. Because you have other stuff to talk about first?

David: Yes. Other stuff first.

I just want to tell you about my first days in Wellington. And arriving there. And trying to find a lawyer.

Sally: Okay, so you will talk to me about your experiences in finding a lawyer. But then also you will tell me more about the IVF thing, the DIA thing and also the thing about additional DNA testing.

David: Yes, that is the plan.

***

David: And so there I am in Wellington. I had just got arrested the day before. My father had attacked me two days prior, and I had called the police. I’d had very significant criminal charges laid against me. The charges had a potential sentence of up to 3 years in prison attached to them. I was badly crippled. It was a horrible situation. I had court in about 7 days where I was supposed to plead guilty or not guilty. And I was struggling to find a lawyer. And that’s where I was.

And so maybe let us talk about the lawyer situation.

I wanted a lawyer, and I needed a lawyer. I needed one very badly. I had tried several times to find a lawyer back in Paraparaumu. I’ll talk about that for a moment, and then I will talk about my trying to find a lawyer once I was in Wellington. Because that’s important too.

I really needed good legal advice, and I hadn’t been able to get it.

And not only that but I needed a proper advocate, someone who would fight for me. And fight on my behalf. 

I needed someone on my side.

From my point of view I had been “kept” in a crippled state while on camera for years. And I was still badly crippled and facing significant legal charges and it was a situation that involved massive injustice, especially that of IVF by fraud and exploiting someone for reproductive purposes while they were crippled for 6 years, and were so crippled they couldn’t even shower or go for a walk around the block. And all of it on (apparently) on camera. And perjury too.

And also there were massive opportunities in front of me. There were possibly opportunities to put people like my father, Brynn and Amanda in jail (for crimes like fraud, perjury, assault, conspiracy to defeat justice, criminal abuse, making a false statement to police, and making a false statement to mental health services). And potentially opportunities to sue Amanda and Brynn, and to sue the fertility clinic. There may in fact have been a lot of money to gain by suing Amanda and Brynn. And even more money to gain by suing the fertility clinic. Furthermore, some of the doctors and nurses I saw might actually be exposed to civil liability, criminal charges or the possibility of losing their jobs and reputations, or losing their NZOM honours and designations.

**

There were also significant opportunities for getting things done when it came to exposing the criminals who did this to me (such as shadowy politicians behind the scenes). And the opportunity to get custody and raise Lily.

Sally: Okay, I see what you mean. I see what you wanted to do. And all you needed was proof. Hard evidence, and fast!! And you could have sued people, destroyed reputations, exposed shadowy politicians, won custody of Lily and put people in jail! It’s a pity that they denied you access to this information.

Sally: By the way, what do you mean by fraud?

David: Well it’s obviously a crime, and a big one at that. A crime has clearly been committed. But which crime is it exactly?

When police lay charges, they need a crime. Don’t they? I think that perhaps fraud charges are the best charges for it. It’s fraud. It could be done under the Crimes Act of 1961, section 240, obtaining by deception or causing loss by deception. The sperm sample was obtained through deception so that Amanda and her secret lesbian girlfriend could have a baby, after which I was discarded and/or driven out. This carries with it a seven year prison sentence (or up to seven years in prison). I have also been charged a fair bit of child support and stuff. As well as had legal expenses at the family court. And also I was attacked by my father as part of the cover up. Amanda also struck or otherwise attacked me multiple times in 2022, and cut me with razor sharp objects (which I still have pictures of), and engaged in financial abuse. I think that I may have had an excellent case.

Sally: That is utter madness….

David (interrupts): And as for criminal abuse, she was expecting and insisting on sex for procreative purposes even though I was crippled and she and her associates had literally crippled me for years, and then deliberately withheld from me the truth about why I was crippled for years (cell towers). I’ll talk more about this point later. The person whose finger was on the trigger for that was Siobhan, another of Amanda’s long term lesbian lovers. She and Amanda had been together since high school. But basically it was Amanda, Brynn, Paul, Matthew, Tedge, Siobhan and Lesley who were behind it.

Note: I actually didn’t want to keep on having sex with Amanda after the “torso integrity compromised” thing happened. But she told me that “she didn’t feel loved without sex” and also that she desperately wanted to get pregnant. There is more to this story, but it’ll have to wait! Ps: this is gist level truth, not quibble proof truth (that means it is true, other than the kvetching from dishonest people).

Oh, and I need to just add this, Amanda asked for a sperm sample because she said that she just wanted to do some general tests to see why she wasn’t getting pregnant. Obviously she lied. I have spoken about this elsewhere. I think that I talked about it in the drop box of garbage v3, which has since been repurposed as a post that focuses on IVF, fraud and Paul’s charges of child molestation.

Sally: What do you mean by “kept crippled”? And what do you mean by “while on camera”?

David: Well it’s like this. At the time I didn’t know that the cell towers, satellites and the associated technology existed. And so I didn’t know that they could observe your thoughts, or get readings off of your emotions, or get readings off of your physiological responses, or images from your eyes, or pictures from your mind’s eye. And I didn’t know that they could manipulate your muscles or nervous system or digestion or give you any number of symptoms. And I also didn’t know that they could disrupt your sleep, make you sweat profusely, chill you, blast you with heat, give you brain fog or give you bad dreams.

Now as for the cameras, I kept on getting hints from social media (starting in 2022) that I was being watched. And they would reference things from the past in my life. Some of them were from things that happened inside the home. Some of them were from things that happened outside the home. Which led me to believe that I was being watched on hidden cameras and that I had been watched since childhood. They actually referred to a lot of things I was doing or saying or thinking. I can’t actually remember many of the things they did via social media, but they actually did a lot to make me feel like I was on camera. And so I came to believe that there were cameras in the house. If I ever do a rundown of everything that happened in that part of my life I’ll explain it more. It’s a story for another day.

But anyway, to cut a long story short, I assumed back in 2022 that there were hidden cameras in the house, and that they were something like pinhole cameras. And I even searched for them.

Now as to being crippled, I was crippled for years. And I didn’t know why. I had some theories at the time. But it was still a mystery. And I should also mention that my body awareness was toast (aka kinaesthetic awareness). Now, I knew my neck was tight, and that my scalenes were rock hard. And I knew that my clivus muscles were tight (this is a pair of muscles under the collar bones) and that my chest and shoulders (traps) were tight. And I felt that my iliopsoas was tight. But I didn’t know what caused it. I didn’t understand or comprehend the root causes of my health issues. And so back in 2023 I felt that I was crippled due to medical conspiracy and bad advice. And bad luck too, because I didn’t know about the cell towers and satellites. But I did know that I was being watched!

Sally: You didn’t know the root causes? What about all of the other parts of your life story involving health problems?

David: Yes, no. Of course. I see.

Yes, of course I knew all of that. I’d had chronic fatigue syndrome, digestive problems, back problems and sleep problems, and many problems in my life. And there was a long road to get from being fit and healthy in high school to being crippled in Princeton Road. But at the same time I didn’t know at the time that the root issue was… being attacked by electromagnetic radiation and quantum effects from satellites and cell towers. I hope to do another interview with you sometime about the years 2012-2021, so that we can talk about health problems in those years.

And so I figured that they had been watching me on cameras and keeping me crippled. And also watching me while I was walking around the house crippled.

*

And now back to the story of getting the lawyer…

And anyone who would keep a good person like me on camera for all that length of time while crippled and covered in things like built up dead skin and other grime (I was filthy!), then that person is just plain horrifyingly evil. Just a diseased creature. Ans it’s even worse because Amanda insisted that we have sex, and then exploited me to get pregnant by IVF (fraud). And so I figured that all of these people were irredeemably evil. And that I needed help from someone competent.

And so I was like, I need a proper advocate. I need at least one good person who can fight for me. And if it’s not the lawyer, then I need at least one person on my side! Just one person truly on my side.

Sally: That sounds totally horrifying? Why didn’t you see a doctor back then? Back when you were crippled? Back from 2017-2022?

David: As it so happens, I saw a lot of doctors from 2007-2013. And they never helped me. And in fact they made me worse.  And so when I got crippled, I didn’t trust any doctors. And I didn’t want to see any. I thought that they would end up shunting me towards mental health services, or perhaps institutionalising me, or I would end up living at something like my father’s house. Or that I would end up at hospital. I didn’t think that I would cope well with being in hospital. I actually thought that I wouldn’t survive being in hospital or otherwise living in an institution (or perhaps a nursing home). And that explains my motivations for why I didn’t go to the hospital (there is more to this story, but I’ll have to write that another day).

And I saw councillors and other such people and spoke with my church’s elders at certain points.

And I also saw some physiotherapists in maybe 2020ish. And occupational therapists too. I forget exactly when. And they weren’t very helpful. And I saw some more doctors in 2022, and they were plain pure evil. They were lying to cover up and sanitise the situation.

And so those are some of the reasons that I didn’t rush to go see a doctor. I actually need to write it up better sometime.

Sally: I see. That makes sense. Sort of. I guess that I will need to wait to hear the rest of the story later. Maybe someday. What a horrible way that people act.

Sally: So about finding a lawyer?

David: Yes, let us get back to the main story. 

*

And so I’m trying to find a lawyer.

*

Trying to find a lawyer while I was still in Paraparaumu 

I tried to find a lawyer while I was in Paraparaumu, but I wasn’t successful.

I did try a few things though. For example, I asked my mother for help. I asked Uncle David for help. I asked them to help me to find a lawyer. I called one or two local lawyers. But I didn’t manage to find a lawyer who would help me. I came to have the impression that I was unable to find anyone who wasn’t in cahoots with this system or conspiracy. I should say that I didn’t understand the system very well at the time.

Sally: Could you tell me more about that?

David: Yes, but maybe I’ll tell you more some other time. People were being weird at the time. It was strange.

My inability to find a lawyer harmed me quite a bit back then.

I will say that I called a few lawyers while I was still in Paraparaumu and that I also asked my mother to help me to find a lawyer. Without any luck. Trying to find a lawyer through Uncle David didn’t come to fruition either, although that was partly due to me. 

It hurt me in that I didn’t have good advice about things like trespass orders, protection orders, divorce settlements, possession of the house, spouses who hide assets or drain money out of bank accounts (Amanda closed off my access to bank accounts) and stuff like that.

*

Finding a lawyer in Wellington

I called about 20-30 criminal defense lawyers trying to find even one who would help me. I was just on the phone all day fighting frantically to find a lawyer. Any lawyer! And I ended up with Sophie Barclay of the public defense service. She agreed to represent me.

*

Here is my story of trying to find a lawyer:

I wanted a lawyer. I had tried finding one in the past, without much luck I might add. I might talk more about that at some point in the future and why it happened that way.

But anyway, once I was at Raine Street, my father and mother told me that I didn’t need to get a lawyer, and could just plead guilty when I went to court, and use the duty lawyer when I was there. I didn’t even know what a duty lawyer at court would do? Or even if they would have one at the Porirua District Court.

Why would my parents tell me not to get a lawyer when I was dealing with significant criminal charges!

By the way, I had been charged in my absence. I was in the Porirua Police Station holding cells (the whole jail was totally empty at the time by the way) when I was charged. And I was just waiting about. And they said that the courthouse was just upstairs, in the same building, up a flight of stairs (it isn’t) but that they were unwilling to take me up the stairs because there wasn’t a lift or anything. Anyway, the truth is that the courthouse is half a kilometre away from the police station. So they lied. It wasn’t “just up a single flight of stairs”. Anyway, my mother and father went to the courthouse and I was charged without being present. They facilitated the whole thing. They were there but I wasn’t.

And I had to reappear at court within about 7 days (?) to plead guilty or not guilty. And I didn’t have a lawyer. So that wasn’t ideal.

I think that they were trying to railroad me through the process.

I had briefly spoken to a duty lawyer in the basement of the Porirua police station. And also spoke to two psychiatrists in the basement as well. The duty lawyer gave me some forms to fill out to apply for legal aid and talked to me for a little bit. I filled out the forms, but got the wrong address on them. Which caused some problems with my application for legal aid.

So anyway, I wanted a lawyer. And my parents made a massive fuss about my wanting a lawyer, and suggested that I didn’t need one. And that a lawyer would just waste all of my money. And so I set about getting a lawyer. I told them (and myself), “I’m not doing this without a lawyer”. And “I don’t know how courts work!”

I had to fight very hard to find a lawyer. I must have called about twenty or thirty of them. And most of them weren’t interested. I think that someone was talking to their mind  “psychically” on the other end of the call. To me at the time it was concerning, disconcerting and disheartening and worrying that many of the people I spoke to seemed to act like they were just “part of the system”. They just said things in a strange way, or acted in strange ways. How is it that so many important people and even criminal defence lawyers were part of the system!? At the time I half believed that these people were all part of some sort of system of secret societies, like the Freemasons combined with university style secret societies (like the Skull and Bones club). I didn’t understand it. I really didn’t understand how it all worked. I eventually managed to get a lawyer from the public defense service. Her name was Sophie Barclay. I had wanted to get a proper criminal defense lawyer, a non government one. I tried to get Mike Antunovic, Cameron Lawyers, Phillip Mitchels and Gary Turkington, for example, but they weren’t interested (or I otherwise wasn’t able to hire them). At this point in time I was actually not really all that knowledgeable about how things worked. If I were back then doing that period of time over again, I’d be able to do it better. I’d know what to say. By the way, iirc Phil Mitchels played silly buggers on the phone for example, but I didn’t know how these things worked. I ran around in circles and eventually found a lawyer.

Here is what it was like trying to find a lawyer. I would Google all of the criminal lawyers that I could find, and then write lists of lawyers looking them up online as I went. And then call all of them frantically. And I also wrote down my story, so that I could explain it from script. I was also somewhat hurt! I had managed to get hurt during the trips between the various police stations in the prisoner transport vans. And so I wasn’t firing on all cylinders. I was slightly mentally impaired. By the way, my main concern at the time was getting the pleading date delayed so that I could rest up and get the information I needed regarding Lily and DNA or parentage. That was the first task!

*

A quick note about the prisoner transport trucks

I had two trips in these prisoner transport trucks. That is, they transported me by means of the prisoner transport trucks twice. And they put me in the worst seat each time. They did this as a punitive measure. 

Here is how it went. They (the police) only did it because I insisted on talking about Lily and parentage and IVF when they questioned me. This was in the brief interview that they did shortly after they took me into custody. This was in one of the interview rooms at the Paraparaumu police station. 

Sally: Tell me more.

David: This was after fingerprinting and photographs, and after waiting around in the holding cell for a while. And also after briefly talking on the phone with a lawyer or two. And then also after attempting to have a phone call to find anyone decent I could trust. They gave me some chicken noodles in a cup while I was in the cells, and a cup of tea.

David: So there I was in the police interview room. And they talked to me for a bit. I had spoken to a lawyer briefly on the phone. And he wasn’t able to come to help me or to be there during the interview. And I had felt that I’m supposed to have a lawyer there. But I didn’t. But anyway. And I had tried to find a friend or any associate that I can call. But I knew literally no one trustworthy on planet earth who isn’t a part of this. But anyway, I’m being interviewed. And then I think to myself, they’re recording everything I say on that CD there (they had a physical recording device that recorded things directly onto CD). And so I say… “this whole thing is because Lily is mine genetically and not Amanda’s and because Amanda had IVF without my knowledge or consent. And because she is trying to cover it up.” “And also because I was crippled for 6 years”. And the police officer (Detective Niall Deehan, Family Harm Division, NZOM) got upset with me and said, “that’s a load of complete rubbish” in an exaggerated manner. And then I was pulled outside to be taken to Wellington. And they got rather upset, and wanted to force me to take the prisoner transport truck instead of travelling in a normal vehicle. Also, I asked them multiple times if I could go in the back seat of a normal police car or police station wagon. I pleaded with them to not do it, because I felt that travelling by truck would hurt me. They said no, and put me into the truck. They also drove very, very badly and cornered badly and doubled back and took a bit of a “tiki tour” to jostle me. I had to use a great deal of “conscious control” of the tension within my body to keep myself upright, while they jostled me about. That might sound weird to you, but think of it as using something like “internal martial arts” methods to use tension tied in with my feet and legs to hold myself up. I connected tension all the way from my neck through my waist, into my pelvis and then feet and legs. It was hard! And I also braced through my neck, shoulders, chest and jaw. And I got rattled around pretty badly. They drove just hard enough that it was a struggle to stay upright, but not so hard that I collapsed. And in the end I was very tired and fatigued. It took me a week or two to recover. And I think it caused me a fair bit of cognitive impairment for a week or so. It hurt me a fair bit. I was pretty “dinged up”. And I had physical symptoms for days. I had two trips in the prisoner transport trucks. It was a struggle to even get into them or out of them!

As for mentioning the IVF and parentage thing, I had wanted this information to be recorded on the police recording disc thing, so that it couldn’t get lost in the system. Or perhaps so that I couldn’t get lost in the system. And so that if I got lost in the system, or died, that people could find it.

I had one trip from the Paraparaumu Police Station to the Wellington Police Station in one of these trucks, and one trip from the Wellington Police Station to the Porirua Police Station in one of these trucks. The first one was on 26th and second was on the 27th.

It was punitive.

**

Here is another picture of a prisoner transport truck, and a picture of the sort of seat I was transported in.

This is a different model to the truck I was transported in.

*

Back to the lawyer story

And so I was not feeling 100% and yet I kept on looking for a lawyer and found one.

And then I talked to her. And we got the forms sorted. I sorted out legal aid (I wanted to be on the legal aid schedule for fees). And she told me that “she is my lawyer, and she is helping me”. But actually she wasn’t all that helpful. She was quite difficult. She played silly games and acted funny a little bit.

She got the court date pushed back for me a little bit. Twice. For which I was grateful. I went to court with her, once. To ask for a continuation. And then we went to court again once I had moved to Khandallah to plead guilty. I had hoped to plead guilty and ask for a discharge without conviction. That was our strategy and it was what Sophie suggested. And in the end I did receive a discharge without conviction.

But she didn’t even come to visit me in person before we went to court, even though I was too disabled to go to her offices to meet her. That should have been basic. That should have been a priority. She should have come to 6 Raine Street straight away. We first met at court in Porirua. She was working for the system. She wasn’t working for me, she was working for the system.

I was sick, crippled, hurt, covered in dead skin and grime, had shaggy hair all over my face and matted hair on my head. I couldn’t walk. I knew no one. I hadn’t showered in six years. I had suffered terribly at the hands of these people. I had been exploited in terms of reproduction and defrauded in terms of IVF, and subjected to massive injustice. I had been attacked by my father, threatened by him, and ordered to go with him by the police. And I was now living at my father’s mother’s house, where I was extremely unsafe! And she didn’t even bother to come to come to see me in person.

And another thing. I had to do weird stuff like photocopy things or scan things and deal with technology and sign stuff to get stuff to lawyers. And they didn’t always make it easy! I had to jump through hoops a little bit. And they weren’t willing to solve problems in a sensible way, such as visiting me. That paragraph might not make perfect sense, but you perhaps see what I mean. For example, I had to print, fill out and scan and sign a piece of paper to get them to delay the court dates. And I had to jump through hoops to get that done. I had to do things like asking my mother, who was there at the time, to print it out at the library. And then I filled it out, and she got it scanned. And I emailed it to the lawyer. That’s a bad example, but they messed me around a bit. The system did.

Anyway, I told Sophie Barclay my story (most of it, not the surveillance). And I tried to get her to help me with my legal problems. For example, I asked her to help me to get my charges withdrawn. She then tried to advise me to apply for diversion. Which didn’t make sense. According to a Google search, “Explicit Policy Rules: The official framework states that family violence offenses—alongside other violent crimes, sexual offenses, and breaches of court orders (like Protection Orders)—usually won't be offered diversion. And also, Under New Zealand law, "family violence" is not limited to physical assaults. The Family Violence Act 2018 explicitly defines psychological abuse as a form of family violence. This includes intimidation, harassment, coercive control, threats, and property damage.” And so diversion probably (certainly) wasn’t going to work. She also started to tell weird funny stories about stuff. And at that point I realised she was going to play dumb and force me to micromanage her. I wasn’t impressed. And perhaps because of that, and because I had to micromanage her to get her to even send a basic email to the police to attempt to get the charges withdrawn. And she sort of undermined my attempts to do that too (she didn’t want me to mention that there were six police officers there on the day). And also because she didn’t bother to even meet me by this point in time! I figured that I was on my own when it came to solving problems like finding out about IVF and so on. And so I tried to do it directly via the DIA. They of course denied me the information. And as it so happens, they denied me that information just before I had to go to court. I got a letter just the day before court telling me that they didn’t have the information I needed. Which was quite disheartening.

I asked her to try to get my charges withdrawn and told her that I would contact the DIA myself to get the information that we needed. In hindsight, I should have asked her to send letters to the DIA and every fertility clinic in the country. And that we needed to do that before even asking the police to withdraw the charges.

I needed help getting evidence relating to the IVF thing. I don’t remember what happened with that. But I wanted her help with that. But I didn’t get it. I can’t remember why. I had to try to sort it out myself. And after the DIA ran me about in circles, and used false names (I think) and then denied me the information I needed. I then came to the conclusion that maybe the records had been destroyed. And then left it for a while. My theory was that if they intended to be this unjust, there wasn’t much I could do against “the system”.

Don’t forget that at this point in time I couldn’t even get to the letterbox and back comfortably. And even basic tasks were a struggle.

Also, I spent a lot of effort “managing” the problems with my posture. I’ll talk more about that later.

Anyway, I had lawyer troubles.

Once I realised that the government had given me a bad lawyer and wasn’t going to give me a good one. And that the Department of Internal Affairs was also being dishonest, then I relaxed a bit and said that I’ll just work on my health. And sort things out once my body starts working better.

Again I have to say that she didn’t even come to visit me in person before we went to court, even though I was too disabled to go to her offices to meet her. That should have been basic. We first met in court.

She also said a weird thing to me about Lily and IVF. I told her that Lily was conceived by means of IVF without my knowledge or consent. And that I had been crippled for years and years of my life, and that while I was crippled, Amanda actually exploited me for reproductive purposes. But then what happened is that Sophie said something weird. She said that even if it turns out that Amanda isn’t the biological mother (DNA) that she is still Lily’s mother. She said it as though she was somewhat sympathetic to Amanda!? But my feelings were that this is actually a very serious criminal matter! Keeping someone crippled for years and exploiting them for reproductive purposes, and then using corrupt police and courts to get rid of them! And all on camera and all as a part of a coordinated conspiracy. It’s actually extremely serious! But she sided with the woman just because Amanda was a new mother and had a baby to take care of. It’s appalling. If she had even a shred of moral decency she would have been strongly opposed to Amanda, including on grounds that Amanda was a serious criminal, and that a criminal shouldn’t be raising an infant! And also if she had been a serious minded and worthwhile lawyer, she would have insisted on visiting my home to meet me in person.

And so that is one of the things I worked on: Getting a lawyer and dealing with legal troubles.

And anyway, I tried to get the charges withdrawn. But the police said no.

I will talk about that a little later.

*

The corridor and other floors at Raine Street

This is a totally different topic.

They had a nice corridor at Raine Street. It had a very nice, hard, wooden floor. It was nice to walk on. And it was perfect for pacing back-and-forth on. And much of the rest of the house was tiled. And also a nice place to walk.

I liked the floors at Raine Street.

At the time I didn’t know about the things they do with the cell towers. Such as manipulating your muscles via your nervous system to keep your body locked down.

I was crippled. And had theories about what caused it.

I was exercising. I was doing “mini squats”. I did hundreds of mini squats every day. And I walked a lot.

I will now talk about my exercise habits.

I would walk back-and-forth in the corridor doing squats.

The way it worked is that I would walk to the end of the corridor and back again.

And then do ten mini squats.

And then I would walk to the end of the corridor and back again. And then do ten more mini squats.

And then I would walk to the end of the corridor and back again. And then do ten more mini squats.

I would sometimes “reset” my feet and back after every few mini squats. The way I did this was by shifting my weight from left foot to right (or vice versa), but including my upper torso in the movement. I would sometimes do a gesture where I draw a line using my thumb across my belly and back, to remind me to use my trunk muscles to create lift downwards. Like, to carry myself properly. To keep tone there. But that’s what the “reset” was. It was basically just shuffling myself from foot to foot in such a manner that the “self righting mechanism” worked properly and I created “lift” in my torso.

And so I might be doing squats and walking for 45 minutes at a time. And I would be doing this in the corridor with the doors closed. Twice a day! Or if I had the whole house to myself, I would walk a path all the way from the end of the corridor to the rear end of the house and back again. And then do more mini squats.

And sometimes I just walked for 30-60 minutes inside while trying to create “lift” in my spine.

And so I was working very hard to try to recover my health.

I had theories about how my exercises were supposed to work. It was hip hinges for the purpose of “reprogramming” my torso. I had this theory that it was the iliopsoas which caused me to have the problems I had. Not the neck muscles. And I thought that I needed to reprogram my body to have more “lift” through what I called “the central column”. But at the same time I viewed my iliopsoas and neck as being a part of the same sort of unit. And I thought that my neck was stuck tight because of my iliopsoas. But actually it was the other way around. My neck caused problems with my core muscles.

The truth is that my proprioception was (and now is) totally borked. I can’t feel which thing is where. Or why or how.

I didn’t realise that the primary problem was the neck muscles. I thought it was the iliopsoas. I kind of use the neck, iliopsoas and so on right through to my feet as one unit. Don’t ask how!! But I just do. I might explain it better later. But I do.

It’s kind of the neck, the throat, the iliopsoas, the chest, the shoulders and the traps which are tightened up. And this leads  to problems further down the body. And I have to carry myself in a funny way, and I kind of stiffen my neck, chest and back just to walk. And I have to lean into my bones too. I kind of rest into my skeleton. It’s odd and difficult to do it, and even harder to explain it. I developed these techniques and coping mechanisms over time, by the way.

So anyway, I was doing 200 squats a day, or more. And walking for at least 45 minutes. And so that should have been enough to do it. That should have been enough for me to recover.

But they actually had my body clamped down and tightened too much for me to actually recover.

***

David: I just want to talk about it not being “just de-conditioning” for a bit.

Sally: Okay. I gather that this has been a major point of contention hasn’t it.

David: Yes. It has.

Back in late 2022 and early-to-mid 2023 I was doing 200-500 mini squats a day. And walking for between 45-90 minutes a day (all inside).

Sometimes I would probably have walked more than that in a day.

I also spent a lot of time resting. I mostly did this while sitting on my chair and listening to music. I usually did this in 10-20 minute stints.

I started doing mini squats back in early-ish 2022. Back then I was doing fewer of them. But that was because I was still learning how to do them. But I built up to doing more. I might have started with 10-20 mini squats per day. And I built up to doing more of them over time.

Now as for doing 500 of them in a day. That was unusual for me and is quite a bit of exercise and movement. I probably might have been doing about 200-300 a day, is more likely. I think that doing 500 was pretty unusual for me! But I did it sometimes.

But the point I wish to make is that I was working hard to recover.

**

If I had been suffering from "just deconditioning" and this had been the cause of my mobility issues and posture problems, then I would recovered. That level of exercise would have resolved the problem.

Given that I did not recover, then it is clear that my problem was not "just de-conditioning" as some people suggest.

There we go, I have proven it.

**

These people crippled me for 8.5 years. And it isn’t “just de-conditioning”. I have debunked their theory. I have proven that it wasn’t “just deconditioning”.

Sally: Yes, I feel that this is quite conclusive. It wasn’t “just de-conditioning”.

If they asked for proof, then this is it.

David: Yes. I shouldn’t have to provide “proof”. But there it is anyway.

****

****

There is a set of people that I used to call the syndicate. But perhaps I could just call it the alliance and partnership of co-conspirators. This includes the Chinese Communist Party Clique, Xi, Paul, Matthew, Tedge, Brynn, Siobhan, Amanda, and various other lesbians and feminists. And some other people, such as Sarah, Angela and Ambika.

This set of people might have other views. But their views are stupid.

They might say that it was “just de-conditioning”. Or at one point they suggested that it was due to caffeine consumption!

But their points of view were (and are) stupid.

All I needed was for these people to tell me about the cell towers, and then ban the use of them on my body. And then I could have recovered fairly quickly.

I could have rehabilitated myself quite effectively within a few months. I think. I think I could mostly do the first stages anyway within just a few months.

Sally: How much time do you want, really?

David: I want a year. But maybe 6-12 months would be enough. I think I could recover pretty good movement of my arms and upper body in just 3 months though, and a massive improvement in the hip hinge movement and maybe even the squatting movement.

Sally: It sounds complicated.

David: It is complicated. But I think I can do it. It’s more complicated than people think. But it’s totally doable, I think. For me it shouldn’t be too difficult.

David: They also wanted me to have sex before I had rehabilitated and rebuilt my whole body. And also before I could find a proper apartment to live in. And they wanted me to start having sex before I could even shower at all! Let alone shower regularly, which I think is completely insane.

Not that I understood this at the time. I didn’t even know that the technology to bork my body existed. I just knew that my body didn’t work

By the way, I thought they had me under camera surveillance and microphone surveillance at this point (at this point refers to being at Raine Street and when I was trying to rehabilitate my body at Raine Street). Because I didn’t know about the cell towers and satellites.

****

****

Court Dates and other legal matters

Anyway, we had court dates coming up.

And the court dates were fatiguing and a real challenge.

I had things coming up in both the district court and the family court

And getting to and from the court was a major problem. The courts are in Porirua and I was in Wellington. And the courts were up some stairs. Stairs were hard!!

And when I did eventually get to the court dates, I needed to travel in my father’s car to get to them. And he would do things like brake suddenly to give me pain in my neck. I was struggling! Kind of like “mini whiplash” (not really fully whiplash, but still a problem for me!). And for another example, when he parked the car to get McDonald’s, he chose to deliberately collide with the kerb, drive up on to it, and then reverse off of it. He was clearly trying to make it a bumpy ride!

And every trip out of the house cost me a lot physically. And I wasn’t feeling great afterwards. And I had to rely on my father for transportation.

**

Trying to get my charges withdrawn 

I need to talk about my attempts to get the charges withdrawn just by asking the police prosecutor to withdraw them. It didn’t work, but it was a good idea and well worth trying.

Here is my email in which I asked to get the charges withdrawn.

https://howcommunicatetwo.blogspot.com/2026/09/additional-information-message-i-tried.html

Sally: You asked them simply to withdraw the charges?

David: Yes, it was my understanding at the time that the police sometimes just withdraw charges and let things go.

Sally: Okay, I see. That is actually quite an important thing. And you even managed to get the police report from the day when the police officers showed up to the assault call out after your father attacked you?

David: Yes.

**

The next topic is about the Department of Internal Affairs.

The Department of Internal Affairs didn’t give me the information I wanted. I wanted to get information about Lily and her parentage and DNA and IVF and stuff like that.

And so I contacted them by email and phone and I tried to get the information that I needed. I found out that I needed to fill in a few forms to get the information that I needed from the HART database. And to do those forms I needed to have some ID, which I also sent away for.

I had hoped to get the information I needed before I had to plead guilty or not guilty. If they had given me the information that I needed, then I would have just asked for a continuation. After that, then I would have just asked the police to withdraw the charges. And I wouldn’t have needed to plead anything. The letter I was waiting for arrived I think 2 days before I had to go to court. And I was told in the letter that they didn’t have the information I needed. Which I think was a lie. I think that they have it, but pretended that they didn’t. I cannot find this letter at the moment, and so I think it may have “vanished” at some point when I moved house.

My access to this information probably got blocked by someone like Brynn making a phone call! And pretending that I wasn’t relevant, and that I shouldn’t be given the information. And someone at the DIA sided with her. The DIA could get in trouble for that. A ton of trouble.

But anyway, I was denied access to information that I think they had. And they pretended that they didn’t have it. And they did this probably to protect Brynn. Which is a bit of a “conspiracy theory”, but I think it’s a fair theory to have. She probably would have gone to jail in 2023 otherwise, as would have Amanda. And my criminal charges would have been dropped straight away as well. And then I could have negotiated a much, much better divorce settlement, and sued fertility associates for a lot of money. And possibly the police and the local DHB. And possibly… sued Brynn Huso!! For quite a bit of money!! Because I would be taking care of a child that she brought into the world by using my genes and sperm via IVF in a highly exploitative, fraudulent and illegal manner, which was then covered up in a similarly horribly illegal, corrupt and fraudulent manner.

**

This isn’t the main point, but I am actually paying child support towards Lily’s upkeep.

**

DNA testing

I got a DNA test done of myself and of Lily back in Princeton Road. We took samples. Me, Lesley, Amanda and my father were present.

It showed that Lily is my child. It confirms it. This was done back at Princeton Road.

This will sound strange to you. But I had actually meant to test Amanda and Lily, because I suspected that Lily wasn’t genetically related to Amanda. But in the moment I just didn’t do it.

There were two reasons for this. The first reason is that my mind was very foggy (or I was distracted or something, or at least I think I was). The second and bigger reason was that Amanda was issuing me an eviction notice. And trying to get me evicted. That might have been the other reason.

The police were supposed to come sometime. And they did come over. And we talked. But they didn’t end up evicting me. They let me stay because I said that I just needed a little while longer there to recover my health. I asked them to talk to my father as well, to persuade them to let me stay. By the way, the two police officers who were there were also present at the arrest some time later. A few months later.

And so in order to avoid rocking the boat too much (and being seen as insane) I possibly just didn’t get Lily and Amanda tested. There is more to this story, which might be told later.

**

More DNA testing

And now I want to talk about the further DNA testing that I had intended to do, but didn’t do.

Sally: go for it.

David: I needed to test Lily’s DNA against Amanda’s DNA. Because I wanted to find out who the genetic mother of the child was or otherwise prove that it wasn’t Amanda.

Yes, you heard it. I wanted to find out who the mother was. You’ve all heard about paternity testing, but what I wanted to do was some maternity testing.

But I wasn’t easily able to get a DNA sample from Amanda to test and compare with Lily. 

And so I thought that I might get DNA testing of Lily done for ancestry DNA purposes. The way I would do this is to test her ancestry DNA, and compare it with mine. And then I would see what the “difference was”. And if the “difference” matched Amanda’s ancestry or didn’t match it, then that would tell me what her ancestry and maternity was.

And so I bought some testing kits. But after I got them, they changed the style of packaging and testing equipment. And so I had to reorder the testing kits. And they became saliva spit tests, not cheek swab tests. And that means I have to extract saliva from an infant. I couldn’t even hold or carry her at the time. That may have been difficult. And so I thought I would try out some other stuff. I can’t make that happen. So I sent it back and left it for the time being. I actually sent the testing kits back, and didn’t do the tests. I needed the money back as well.

That was the second thing to try.

And so I tried to get information through the DIA instead.

**

I later realised by means of close observation of photos that Lily was related to Brynn. I figured this out once I was in Khandallah.

**

Additional information: by the way, they put makeup on Lily’s face often. And also they edited photos often. To try to cover it up.

This could count as a part of “conspiracy to defeat justice”. Which is a crime that can put you in jail for up to seven years. Or it might support fraud charges, which can put you in prison for 7-10 years in NZ.

**

And anyway.

I mentioned the IVF story multiple times to my family. My father denied that Lily was conceived by IVF. And so did Nana.

They were not exactly supportive.

And they also dropped hints about wanting to get Lily out of the family. And so I got precious little help from them.

They really didn’t want to have anything to do with Lily. They wanted me to lose contact with her and access to her, so that they didn’t have to deal with the whole thing.

I had previously phoned Fertility Associates and sent them emails and letters. All to no avail. I think that they have the information I needed. But they didn’t want to give me the information I needed.

And yeah. So I had to deal with stuff involving the criminal courts and family courts. And the divorce settlement and stuff like that. And I was so sick that I couldn’t even go for a nice, easy walk outside. And also I didn’t know why I couldn’t recover and why I was unable to resolve my health problems.

And then at the same time my family kept on causing me drama and problems all of the time.

All I needed was one measly piece of information to clear the whole thing up. And quickly. One single document!

****

****

The lawyer from the mall

And anyway, there are some other things worth noting.

There was a lawyer from the mall, who was supposed to help me with a thing to register a notice of claim on the house to avoid it being sold preemptively. But that didn’t work out. And I felt that he was a “system creature”. Doing the bidding of the system.

He wasn’t useful at all.

I didn’t trust him. I possibly could have better relied on him more than Barclay or Aitken. But maybe not.

He is just worth mentioning briefly.

****

****

The family lawyer

I needed a family lawyer too.

And that took a bit of work.

I talked to one briefly online. And then they quit working with me. I couldn’t scan forms and get them back to the people quickly enough. This was the law box Porirua. Or something like that. I can’t actually remember the name of their law firm.

(I also tried Rachael Dewar law back when I was in Kapiti. But they couldn’t help me! Complicated story, but oh well.)

I ended up with Sophie Aiken from Morrison Kent.

****

****

The family court stuff

There was a protection order to deal with. Amanda got a protection order against me as a means of getting rid of me. She wanted to get me out of the house, so that she could live in it instead of me. It’s similar to a restraining order. But instead of being from the district court, it’s from the family court (which is evil and hates men, or has a reputation for being evil and hating men).

I should point out that I would have liked to have moved out, but I was disabled. Which means that literally my actual entire body didn’t work. And she and her friends and her associates (and my family and the Chinese Communist Party) caused this, and could have very easily have restored me to health. After which I would have left.

I would have loved to have left!

She got the protection order under false pretences and for fake reasons. She claimed in her application for the protection order to have suffered “mental abuse” at my hands. This is in spite of having literally crippled me for 6 years. And also in spite of her exploiting me for reproductive purposes and fraudulently and illegally getting IVF using my sperm and Brynn’s egg. She probably commit perjury in the process of applying for this protection order. She had also attacked me multiple times. She has attacked me directly, by striking me. And she had attacked me indirectly by doing things like placing sharp objects on the floor nestled into the carpet where they would cut me. And again I repeat that she had exploited me for reproductive purposes, and then illegally got IVF.

The whole story really needs to be told. 

The story of the protection order makes more sense when the whole story is told. It was bogus and a travesty. It was a horrible situation. She got a protection order for “psychological abuse”, when she had been doing everything possible to terrorise me and drive me out of the house (I might tell you more about that later). And this is after I had been literally crippled by these people for years.

This existed alongside the criminal charges.

*

The way the criminal charges worked is that…

I was charged with psychological abuse against Amanda for contravening the protection order by not leaving the house when told to do so. By the way, Amanda was living at her mother’s house at the time. And I was at Princeton Road, unable to even walk around the block. The police came to see me at the house, and arrested me for the crime of not leaving the house while a protection order was in place.

So they arrested me because of the bogus protection order and charged me with serious crimes because of that arrest.

I might explain the legal stuff a little bit more thoroughly later. There were a bunch of legal issues to deal with.

And there was a parenting order as well.

A parenting order is all about when you can see the child and see her. And in particular mine stated that I was dangerous and mentally ill, and had to be supervised when I was with Lily. I had to have a supervisor!

****

****

Parenting order

Amanda applied for a parenting order. I got delivered these papers just before I was supposed to go into court for a legal conference. I had to delay this conference. And also I had my lawyer attend it instead of me.

Ummmm.

I wasn’t well enough to be going to these conferences! And my body just didn’t work! And I wasn’t exactly presentable.

And so I couldn’t adequately defend myself in court. It was a horrible situation all around.

I had hoped to solve the problems with getting information about IVF but I was denied the information by the Department of Internal Affairs

****

****

Justices of the peace

I kept on needing to see justices of the peace. To create affidavits. This was for the family court stuff. But I couldn’t go to see them in person. And so I had to invite them to my house. And so again and again I had to invite justices of the peace to do it at Raine Street. My lawyers didn’t bother to visit me in person. They could have done it.

What kind of a lawyer doesn’t just come to visit!!!! And a crippled client being tortured and mutilated by the system no less.

I had to phone them and have them to visit. And I swore the affidavits, and then I couriered them to my lawyer. And I suppose I could have gone to court and fought it. But I doubt that it would have worked. I wasn’t exactly presentable. And the DIA denied me access to information that I was entitled to, so that they could prevent my winning in court. It was massive corruption. If they had merely given me the information I needed, I’d have put Dad, Brynn and Amanda in jail, had custody, sued the fertility clinic and maybe complained to the police and DHB and got a few people fired. And destroyed Uncle Andy’s career* also. Possibly.

But they didn’t give me what I need.

*After all, I was kept crippled electronically just 45 minutes drive away from where he was working as the mayor of Wellington. He was sitting in his office being mayor. I was in my home in 17 Princeton Road being crippled, and I was so crippled that I couldn’t even go for a walk around the block or get down on to the ground to play with my pet cat. And I was so crippled that I even found tending to pot plants to be a real and serious challenge and gave up. They banned me from reading books or listening to audio books (by harming me if I did). And talking to people on the phone outside of my home was prohibitively difficult. They gave me back problems. But he was just 45 minutes drive away in his office.

Sorry, brief digression on the DIA over.

*

The lawyers didn’t visit me. I didn’t visit them. My father had attacked me. I’d had massive crimes committed against me. But they didn’t visit me at all. A good lawyer would have got me out of there asap.

But anyway, I had to get stuff sworn by a JP. And we did this by having them come to my home.

I’m sorry that that segment came out as a bit of a rant.

Sally: That’s fine.

Did your Uncle Andy play any other parts in this story

David: Yes, plenty of times. One example is back in Princeton Road when I needed to prepare an affidavit and have it confirmed by oath or affirmation as part of preparing documents for my “defence of the protection order”. He showed up and helped me to find a justice of the peace.

But both Andy and the JP acted weird.

Uncle Andy could have actually helped me. But he is actually just a bad person. I was very badly crippled at the time and needed a better place to stay, and he could have helped me out.

*************

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David: Okay, I want to talk about a bunch of other things that I did or that happened while I was at 6 Raine Street.

Sally: Go for it.

David: Okay.

They did a lot of things to make my life more difficult while I was at Raine Street.

*

Cold Attacks

One of the things that they did is that they would hit me with cold attacks. I don’t remember when they first did this. But they filled the whole house with icy coldness. And the whole ground was cold too. I remember that the ground was cold and the air was cold and that I was cold. And so one of my main focuses was in warming up.

They used a chilling effect on me on a number of occasions. At the time, I believed this to be something that was built into the house itself. I didn’t know that it was an effect that came from cell towers and satellites.

I had a word for some of the things they did back then. I called them “special effects”. The cold attacks that they used were a “special effect”.

Nana had heaters about the place. And I had heaters in my room too. I had two of them. Maybe even three of them. Because I had carefully thought out ways to stay warm. I had a system.

Now at the same time, I couldn’t safely wear warm clothes. I couldn’t wear socks properly, if at all. I couldn’t wear a sweatshirt, a hoodie, a jacket or a normal t-shirt. Not reasonably. Now this is one of the things that the coalition (of Chinese Communists, Bisexual Harlots, Gay Pedophile Warlocks, and miscellaneous feminists and occultists) will complain, nitpick and kvetch about, so I’ll say it a little more precisely. But I couldn’t safely, comfortably and reasonably wear warm clothes, socks, shoes, or jackets. It was a problem for me.

Sally: How did you cope? What did you wear? How did you use heaters and other equipment to stay warm? Did you have blankets?

David: Well I’m glad you asked… Let’s talk about it. It could be a long conversation (not really).

Firstly… I had some sleeveless shirts that had been made for me by a woman named Geraldine. Geraldine was a registered nurse and carer and had been with me from 2019 to 2023. Those are approximate dates, but I would have to check. She worked as a carer or a “support worker” for Geneva Healthcare, which functions as a private contractor for the Government. It was funded via the local health board, which is a Government entity. She helped me by making some sleeveless shirts. The way that worked is that I purchased some oversized, long-sleeve, flannel shirts from a local shop, and then Geraldine modified them. She took them home, chopped the sleeves off and hemmed the arm holes. And she also chopped off a fair bit of the length at the bottom of the shirt, and hemmed those as well. And that gave me tops to wear. She also used to have to help me to put them on too, once upon a time. And so I still had those.

I also had some warm sweatpants. And I had a blanket, which I had to throw away, but then I replaced it with a new one. Which wasn’t as nice or as good. I also bought some very lightweight polar fleece throws from the Warehouse. I bought a tiny radiant heater, but instead of turning it on and off again using the switch on the heater itself, I turned it on and off again using the switches on my four plug power board (I bought two of them which had individual plugs and switches on it). I actually couldn’t reach the dials on my heaters, so I operated them from the power board. And my nana lent me a really warm mohair poncho. Which I used on my legs to keep warm. I couldn’t wear it on my back. Because pressure on my back caused me problems.

By the way, I was literally so physically screwed up that I couldn’t wear a mohair poncho wrapped around me. I was cold! And also, as of this moment I am sitting shirtless, because wearing clothes is hard and uncomfortable. Which means that I am often cold, and it is expensive to keep warm!

I struggled to use blankets over my shoulders. When I put blankets on my shoulders, I felt bad. And I didn’t know why. I think that maybe they tightened something in my shoulders, neck or back. And so when I tried to use blankets I got cold. The conclusion was that blankets were a bit of a hassle!  Back when I lived in Princeton Road, I had sometimes been able to use a blanket over my shoulders to warm myself. But somehow in Raine Street I wasn’t able to manage it. 

I actually got badly chilled on a number of occasions.

Next point, when I was in the lounge and dining room area where my nana liked to hang out, there were two heaters. They were electric heaters, which were expensive to run. And they were convection current heaters, but actually quite nice to warm myself in front of. I liked them. And so I used those to warm myself.

Sally: Did you spend much time standing in front of the heaters to warm yourself?

Yes. They did this thing where they would chill the whole house. And then turn the heaters up. And so I would have to scurry over to the heaters again and again to warm myself. Like they’re islands of warmth and comfort. It was like a video game where you have to hop from one warm spot to another to avoid getting chilled.

This is going to sound weird and horrible. But if I stood with my back to the heater, to warm my back, I would have problems. There was a bad smell, an acrid smell. You see I had long standing problems with hygiene and stuff. Because I literally hadn’t showered in about five and a half years. I wasn’t able to shower. And also because of the postural compensations I had to engage in merely to remain upright, I had to press my butt cheeks together. And those two things had resulted in the skin on the inside edges of my two butt cheeks getting damaged and inflamed as a result of residue there that I couldn’t wash off. This resulted in skin irritation and weeping skin, and therefore a bad and acrid smell. And when I stood in front of the heater, the smell was amplified and then wafted into the air around me. It was pretty nasty. I know that this is a sad, gross paragraph to read. But the condition in which these people forced me to live was quite horrific.

Another thing I found at her place was that one of the best ways to stay warm was to close the door to my bedroom and turn the heaters up. They were making the place freezing cold, and I turned the heaters up. And I stayed warm that way. But then… the power bill went up! It was horrible!! And then she demanded more money for the power bill. And she wanted me to pay the whole of the power bill. But I asked instead to see the previous year’s bills before I moved in. And then paid the difference between the previous year’s bills and this year’s for the month.

She also complained that she didn’t want her bills to be too much higher, because she wasn’t supposed to have anyone living with her. Or something weird like that. And it might affect her welfare payments otherwise.

And also they did this thing called ice skating. This was a combination of two things. The first was that the floor had been recently mopped, and so it was wet. And it was wetter than usual. What they did was leave extra water on the floor.

Sally: Who did that?

David: I can’t remember. I think it was one of Nana’s support workers. Nana has support workers from the agency “access”. They are government funded support workers and carers. They mopped the floors, I forget who. And left excessive water on the floors.

And then they blasted the whole space with cold.

And this meant that the floors were icy cold, and very wet. And so I had trouble walking on the floor with my feet which were numb(ish), and I struggled to balance. It was a bit of a hazard.

Nana has had support workers to help her ever since she fell and broke her pelvis years ago. By the way, she is in her nineties.

****

****

Passports, birth certificates and photo ID in general

I had some problems with getting good photo ID because I couldn’t safely make it to the pharmacy to get a photo taken. And my father kept on taking sub par photographs that weren’t up to snuff according to the DIA website.

It was a problem, and it took ages to sort out. And it caused me a lot of problems! But I don’t want to talk about it too much at the moment.

****

****

Hygiene

I will talk here about things like hygiene, toenails, showering, baths and the podiatrist in this section.

My family complained about my hygiene quite a bit. And they also suggested and otherwise implied that my hygiene problems might get me kicked out of the house.

This is in spite of the fact that the thing stopping me from washing and showering and getting my hair cut properly and shaving my facial hair and trimming my own toenails is that they crippled me altogether and wouldn't let me recover.

One of the big issues were my toenails. I had really long and overgrown toenails. I'd had this problem for a long time. Years in fact.

Sally: Please tell me about it. How exactly did you end up with overgrown toenails? And why couldn't you trim them?

David: Well during my time in Princeton Road from 2017 to 2023, I couldn't easily trim my own toenails. And so many of them became badly overgrown. And especially one of the toenails on my right foot got very badly over grown.

You see, I had to brace and hold and press my feet in a weird way just to walk at all. Back then. Which meant that my toenails grew differently. For example, my big toenails were different because the tops of my toes pressed into the ground, and so there wasn't a great connection between the toenail and nail bed, and I ended up with chucks of toenail growing underneath the nail, which was leveraged up. And then for the second from biggest toenail on my right foot, I had a case of what's called "hammer toe" or similar. Which is where the toe presses into the ground. And this combined with my being unable to trim my nails resulted in a thickened toenail that grew at a weird angle and kind of took on a life of its own. It couldn’t be trimmed. It was too strong.

And then when it came to trimming them. Geraldine wouldn't do it. Amanda nicked my feet when she did it. And then so I did it. And I struggled. I had to brace and strain to do it. And I had days of fatigue afterwards. I think that Geraldine did eventually try to help. She probably trimmed them a bit. What else? I think that she wasn't able to trim the thickened toenail. And so it remained and got longer and more awful.

Sally: Did you try any other options for cutting the toenails?

David: Yes, I did.

I tried calling local podiatrists (no luck there). I tried getting an electric nail trimmer (it wasn't suitable) and I also bought heavier duty nail clippers (not heavy duty enough!).

And when I got to Nana's house, this was a priority of hers.

She implied that my long nails were a mental health issue, not a physical problem. And that the large and thickened toe-nail was the cause of my improper walking gait.

She made it clear to me that if I didn't get my feet looked at and toenails trimmed, she would kick me out. But I felt that the podiatrist would just hurt me or harm me.

And so I saw the podiatrist and ended up getting hurt.

He messed with my (very sensitive) feet very much. And it messed with me so much that I ended up having cold and flu symptoms the next day. That's how screwed up and sensitive my feet are. He handled them a lot, just a lot of handling, and that is actually enough to do it! Believe it or not! And they were sore too, of course.

And so I got threatened into seeing a podiatrist, and it hurt. And it caused harm.

And there were threats to throw me out if I didn't see him.

*

I also needed a shower and to have a haircut. And to wash my backside (revisit this).

What else?

They pestered me to take a shower. But I wasn’t allowed to use the accessible shower in the house at 6 Raine Street.

The only shower I was allowed to use was the shower-bath in the main bathroom. Which was totally unsuitable. The sides of the bath were much too high. And my mobility was horrible. The shower-bath at Raine Street was designed to be dangerous for me. And the shower head was extremely high up and generally unsuitable. And I think I could have got hurt.

I believe that it was a custom built bathroom, that existed for the sake of causing me harm, pain and suffering. The bath was abnormally deep, and the sides of the bath were abnormally high, and the shower head was also abnormal, and unusually high up.

And they nagged me to take a shower. But I thought it would hurt me. Or be dangerous, or just harmful even without accidents. Don't bother with why, for the moment.

I wanted to take a shower, but I wanted to use the accessible shower.

Nana has a mobility friendly shower in the house (she broke her pelvis once), which I asked to be allowed to use and they said no. It has no lip to get into it. And certainly no high sides. There is no step to cross to get into it. They never even let me see it. My father suggested that I needed to wash at the swimming pools or in the main shower-bath first, before I could use the shower in Nana’s ensuite. As though I was so filthy that I would contaminate the shower. 

Yes. I was literally encouraged to shower at the local swimming pools, even though the trip there and back would have been harmful to me.

[One of the main reasons I didn’t shower back at Princeton Road is that I couldn’t get into the shower safely and support myself in standing in there and balance in standing there safely].

*

Hair

My mother insisted on trimming my hair. And when she did it, she shoved my head forward and down. She did this even though I told her that my head and neck don’t bend that way. And she was particularly annoying in the way that she cut my hair. She did this so that she could harm me, and get away with it by blaming it on being forced to cut my hair. She harmed me on purpose. It made me feel a couple of days of symptoms; I felt bad for a couple of days. My body really doesn’t function properly.

*

Sex and Lilia (the support worker from Geneva healthcare)

Lilia kept on hinting at me to have sex. Which is odd. Especially given that I couldn’t shower and get clean! According to hints being dropped at the time, I needed to “mop the floors”. There were hints galore. Mop the floors was code for “actually wash my backside”. But ummmmm. I had health problems. It was hard to do that! And massively inappropriate even to suggest it.

Other people hinted too. And trademe.

My neck and back problems were so bad that I struggled even to wash my backside, and the inside of my butt cheeks were weeping fluid. The fluid from the weeping skin on the inside of my butt cheeks was pretty bad. I used to have to keep on going to the bathroom to wipe it off. Like again and again I had to go to the bathroom to dry it off. I’d wipe my butt just to dry it. It had to be dried off. It’s awful.

I tried to use wet wipes, but I had problems with those. There are serious neurological problems when you’re like this. Like, your muscles don’t work! You just can’t move. I’ll explain that another time. Just trying to clean or wash my butt using wet wipes caused me problems. I actually used antibacterial hand and face wipes. Which may have been a mistake as well. Because it may have caused further irritation. I later found that baby wipes are better.

Next, I also tried washing my backside using a flannel and soapy water (and disposing of the flannel), but this cause me symptoms for neurological reasons. I’m not sure how it works. But I have to keep my hips “turned back and out” just to function at all, and my butt cheeks pressed together and also I have to “hold tone” in my muscles in a weird way in my anal sphincter and pelvic region. But I have to do this without too much “conscious awareness”, or else I do get problems. But to cut a long story short, I had problems when I tried to wash with a flannel and water. 

I had solid and significant symptoms when I did this. Very significant symptoms.

*

Shaving caused me problems, including symptoms for days.

*

Washing my back

I tried to wash my back, just by itself. And so I asked Lilia to help with it.

Lilia deliberately hurt my back once. She was a support worker from Geneva Healthcare. I needed her help to wash my back (I couldn’t shower) and so I got a jug of water and a cloth, and she washed my back. But she was heavy handed on purpose. And kind of pressed my back down and in. And I felt bad for days. It had no strength or integrity. My upper back had no strength or integrity. You can actually just “push it in” back then. And you can actually hurt me via my arms back then as well, because they’re not well supported by my torso. I asked her to wash my back, and she ended up harming me a bit. And after that I didn’t trust her so much and I didn’t ask her to do it again.

*

And that's everything about hygiene for the moment.

****

****

General Disruptions 

And now I want to talk about a variety of things, and make some points and make some statements, especially related to other problems and disruptions caused by these people.

Sally: Awesome. Keep going. We’re getting a lot of good information down in this interview.

David: Okay, and so this is how it was. I was crippled and also I presumed myself to be on camera the whole time.

My belief was that I was being monitored by means of hidden cameras. And that also I was being listened to by means of many hidden microphones. And I thought that Princeton Road was being kept under perpetual surveillance as well by these systems of cameras and microphones.d

Everyone in my life seemed to be a part of the scenario. And they didn’t seem to really care that much about the fact that I had been crippled for years. They just kind of factored it in? But they seemed un-caring. And they seemed to be supporting the situation. I actually had literally no one to turn to. I had even tried calling people I knew from years and years ago. And sending letters too.

While I was still at Princeton Road, I tried calling Mike Hocking, I tried contacting Brett and Sue Walker (they actually visited), I tried contacting Ambika Saha, I tried contacting Andrew Crawshaw, I tried talking to some people from church, at the CCC including Stan Rolston and Hayden Ward. And I think that I also talked to Geoff Orchard. I tried talking to my mother for advice, I talked to my Uncle David for advice. I saw my grandma, my uncle Andy, my Nana, my aunty Anne and my Nana’s cousin Eileen, and Max Macfarlane and Andrew London in person at Princeton Road in 2022. And they all behaved as though they were in cahoots with the system. And they didn’t help me. Any of them could have told me about these cell towers and satellites and radio wave machines. Which had caused me to experience these serious and crippling health problems. Or explained to me how the world worked. But they all played silly “games”. This was still all at Princeton Road (except Ambika, who was while I was at the police station).

*

On the day I arrived at 6 Raine Street Karori, I was pretty dinged up. And sweating for days from the exertion and strain. It caused me all sorts of symptoms. I hadn’t washed or showered for soooo long. And I needed a haircut etc. I wasn’t feeling so great. There is a lot of history. Like I hadn’t had a shower since 2017.

*

Cash for rent

Next thing, I had to pay my rent in cash. This was so that my rent payments wouldn’t show up on Nana’s bank statements, because she wasn’t supposed to be having people live with her. And it could affect her welfare payments. which means that I had to rely on my father to collect the rent money from the ATM, and then I paid cash to Nana and repaid my father via internet banking. This was a minor problem for me, but a little bit of a hassle.

Next, the house was owned by Uncle David. And there was talk of him evicting me. I forget what for.

Oh wait, Nana wanted to have a conflict with me. And then claim that I looked at her in a nasty way, and then claim that I needed to leave. And also I think that the “fake made up conflict” with Matthew was used as an excuse to say that maybe I shouldn’t be hanging around and living with her in her house. Matthew basically started an argument and I shut him down, and then I think that Nana used that as one of the reasons for asking me to leave her house within about 16 weeks. I think that I was only there for about 16 weeks. I’m of the opinion that she should have been happy to keep me there for about a year. My family had tried very hard to get me to move into my Nana’s house after all.

I think that she asked me to leave. She just didn’t want me there. It was a repeated topic, of trying to boot me out. If I didn’t do things in the way I was “supposed to” then there were threats or implied threats.

*

Noise

Nana turned her radio up extremely loud at night, to disrupt my sleep. Even at stupid hours of the day or night. She was borderline deaf.

They used other forms of noise pollution to cause me problems. Especially when I was dealing with legal documents and stuff. Such as doing construction work next door. The did this loudly and on purpose. And road works too, sometimes.

*

The Periam Clan

Another incident is that my father’s second cousin Colin hugged me firmly and pushed his two clenched hands into my upper back to push my thoracic spine in, which left me spinning. He is family. 

I’ll tell you about that particular visit.

Colin and Glynn came to visit, and their mother came along also. They are all family.

My father was there, or maybe not. But someone said something about… watch out?! Colin is a hugger, while we were eating. He does actually have a reputation for giving people bear hugs.

We all had food to eat. And then I went to my room and they were getting ready to leave.

Colin is family. His mother is Eileen. And his late father Roy was Nana’s cousin. Glynn is Colin’s brother.

And then when he left he hugged me (I’m not a hugger, and I asked him not to hug me) and he then pushed his two clenched hands, which were clenched together, into my upper back to push my thoracic spine in. Which harmed/ hurt me. It might not sound like much, but it wasn’t helpful! It hurt me and made me feel off for days! He knew it would hurt!

Colin was well known for giving bear hugs.

He has actually done it to me before.

Back in perhaps 2013-2016. He once hugged me when he was leaving after visiting. We were outside and he was leaving. And he squeezed me so hard that I was lifted off of my feet, and then had to sit down on the ground in front of the conservatory because I couldn’t really stand anymore (I kind of crumpled down to the ground). Perhaps I could have really forced it and stay standing. But I was hurt. I stood back up fairly quickly and limped inside. My ribs hurt and I didn’t feel so good. You should not do that to an invalid! (I was an invalid in 2014 or whenever that happened)!

*

The earthquake and subtle posture attack 

And then later on there was a subtle attack on my posture when it came to merely being at the far end of the house, where the back door is situated, and the dining room. Which is the main entrance. They pretended that an earthquake had occurred and that at the other side of the house, that the tiles were somehow wrong, unbalanced. And then whenever I walked there, something weird happened to my back. And I had to do stuff to reset it. Like sitting and listening to music for 20 minutes. Also, it meant that I couldn’t sit at the table to eat. I didn’t know at the time what caused it. It was very annoying! It cut me off from the main entrance… or made the main entrance a difficulty for me.

*

Switching off the internet and denying me cell internet on my other phone

They also used to switch off the internet when I got too wiped out. Pretending the “internet is down”. And I was forced to walk across the shag rug to get to the router to reset it. Which caused me hours of suffering. My feet didn’t cope well with soft surfaces.

*

Shoes and socks

Nana insisted that I put on shoes and socks and walk around. Which hurt me. This is a bigger deal than might seem. Wearing shoes and socks back then throws my whole system of posture management off! And causes a cascade of problems.

Note: the CCP and Wiccans and lesbians who listen to me all day know all about my systems of "posture management" and all of the various things I have to do all day long just to stay upright and move around. But not all of the nice normal people listening from home know about it.

I’ll say it again, there are a lot of posture management tricks and habits and techniques that make up my posture management systems. And they are a big deal.

*

Toilet Seat

The toilet seat was deliberately loosened, in the hopes that I might fall off. My balance was already not good.

*

Laundry

My nana used to insist that I can do laundry on exactly one day per week. I would have preferred to do it up to twice a week, but she liked to control that in a weird way. And also I wasn't able to lift the laundry up from the washing machine to the dryer.

*

Lawyer and furniture moving

My father took the opportunity to shift furniture from one room to another while I was trying to find a lawyer. He shifted a bed from my bedroom to another room, and then one from that room into my bedroom. And I had to arrange all of the stuff I had left sitting around on the bed for easy access. He did this to distract, fatigue and disrupt me while I was just looking for a lawyer.

*

“Exercise”

Once I was staying at Raine Street, Nana and my father tried to push me to “extend myself” and to "exercise". But she did it in a mean spirited way. She and my father also tried to push me to see a physiotherapist, even though I had seen plenty of these in the past. And even though this would have hurt me! And even though they knew what had caused my health problems and how to switch it off!!

Here are some examples:

My Nana tried multiple times to get me to reach my arm up above myself. She encouraged me to do this with my left arm, which was pinned to my side quite badly. This would have hurt me and caused me symptoms. It isn’t good for me to do this, and it doesn’t build up my capacity or resilience or otherwise improve me or my health.

She insisted that I bend down low to get into the lower drawer of the freezer. She wanted to know how my knees worked. I have told this snippet of my story already.

She insisted that I try putting on my shoes and socks. And walk to one end of the house and back. Even though this causes me tremendous harm, throughout my body. It’s horrible! 

My nana insisted that to build my health I had to go outside to the letter box and back again. As often as possible. Which hurt me. I struggled with the ramp at the side of the house. And it depleted my energy and capacities every time I used it.

She insisted that I do it at least once a week. For "therapeutic reasons". Or else she would kick me out.

She and dad also wanted me to walk outside and down the ramp and around the size of the house and up the front stairs, at the front of the house. I was trying my best to rehabilitate myself through walking and mini squats. They knew this. They also knew why I was sick. But they wanted me to do a lap every day where I walked out of the house via the ramp at the back door, and then around to the front of the house, and then up the front steps to get back into the house every day. But that would cause me to suffer problems. Posture and fatigue problems. I said no to this.

I also had an incident where I tried to climb the stairs at the front of the house. But I had serious problems when I tried to do that and it affected me badly for days. I was trying to learn to climb stairs again. And so I tried to do it backwards. I went down the step backward. But it’s actually worse. It is worse, much much worse to do it that way. It actually hurt me pretty solidly. And I felt horrible for days.

So I found that the way to do it is to climb them forwards and to take ramps to go downwards. I sometimes took ramps backwards if I had to climb up them.

She told me that she wanted me to be getting out of the house and going for nice walks to the library! She really pushed me to do this when I couldn’t even walk!

These people had crippled me badly and were keeping me crippled. And caused me to suffer very badly. Some of this can be understood already, but some of it will be better understood when and if I explain the process of getting crippled, and when I explain the torso integrity compromised thing. But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Nana would hide my things on lower drawers where I couldn’t reach them. And on high shelves that were inconvenient. This was in the pantry.

They loosened the floorboards of the corridor so that I couldn’t enjoy walking as much. They just slightly disrupted the evenness of the flooring.

*

This is another disruption:

The tap of the bathroom didn’t have consistent hot and cold water. But perhaps only for me. It would run too cold, or scalding hot.

*

They would create chaos and drama to disrupt me and whatever I was doing.

*

Telling me to leave:

Anyway, my family wanted me to get out of the house. And they pushed me out. They told me to leave.

I had a lot of trouble finding a place to stay.

To cut a long story short, I ended up just taking a bad place as a last resort. This is because my family wanted me out! And I had to sign a year long lease at this new place. And I needed more time at my nana’s house. And I asked to be able to stay. I just wanted to recover my health so that at least I could go for a walk down the street.

But they didn’t care.

And they pushed me out.

I pleaded with them many times to let me stay, but they were not sympathetic. Saying that if I were trying to recover, and was going for walks down to the library. Or spending time out of the house. Or trying to improve, that they might let me stay. Now of course they knew why I was sick and had bad mobility.

My father and Nana claimed that I caused too much stress to my Nana. And it was bad for her blood pressure. And that I smelled bad. Well, they refused to let me use the shower. Acting as though I was too gross to use it at all. As though I would make the shower itself filthy. Well, they had a shower available for me to use! But they wouldn’t let me use it.

****

****

Visitors

While I was staying there, Aunty Wendy came to stay. And cousin Andrew came to stay/visit. And Colin and Glynn came to visit. And Eileen. And also Monica and Tim came over. Bringing the children also. Uncle David came to visit. And also Uncle Andy came over. And Jo came to visit. And my brother Matthew came to stay for a few days, but stormed off over nothing after one or two nights there. And lastly Ruby, Summer and Vivian came over. Multiple times. We had dinner together at the dining room table plenty of times.

****

****

Communication

Sally: tell me about communication? Communication and cameras, and the big wide world out there of what you called the fae? Did you not find it to be weird that you were being watched?

David: Yes. I found it weird to think that I was being watched. I felt that it was on camera. And that there were microphones and a few other things. We can talk about it now.

Sally: Go for it.

David: I felt or thought at the time that I was being watched on camera, and that people viewed my life on television screens. And that they recorded sounds and speech on microphones. And that they had infrared cameras and that they watched me through the camera on my phone. I also thought that the system kept tabs on me by means of my web browsing history. I also thought that there were pipes with cold water in the floor, to chill me if it wanted to, just like in underfloor heating. And also… I think that is all for now.. Oh, and I thought that they had a key logger on my phone and total access to the files on my phone. I also had this idea that they were communicating to me via advertisements on the internet. And also at the same time that shops online were working with them. And also I found that people used a lot of hints to communicate, in person as well as online. And that there were hints being floated my way via social media and other stuff like that.

Sally: That is a lot.

Did you not know that they could see straight into your mind? And read whatever thoughts you had on the top of your mind?

David: No, I did not know that. I wasn’t aware that the technology for that existed.

Sally: Did you also not know that they can mess with your nerves and nervous system? And muscles?

David: That is correct. I didn’t know that they could mess with my nervous system or muscles. That wasn’t a piece of information that I had at the time.

Sally: What else?

David: I’ll talk to you about my attempts to communicate with the system.

**

Here is the first one.

I used to play the song… “Shut up and let me go!” By a band known as the Ting Tings. This was a way of saying to the system that I just wanted them to “shut up and let me go”. I figured at the time that they communicated by hints and songs and music. So why shouldn’t I? And I felt that they watched me on camera. So why not communicate with music? And so I played the song: Shut up and let me go. And I played it again and again and again and again.

I also wrote an open letter to the system into my phone. About why I don’t want to be entrusted to the care of my father. And it was important to me! But they didn’t care. I also rejiggered it and sent it to my lawyer, just as an info dump in my email with her. Just in case that might work (she seemed to be in cahoots with the system and my father). But clearly that isn’t how it worked. I’ll post a link of that email/letter somewhere sometime.

I also started trying to learn how to speak “corkscrew”. Which is where people try to float ideas at you. Using hints and code words. But it didn’t work out that well for me. I said that they have corkscrew as their language. And I tried to learn about these guys. But it was a waste of time and stupid.

I didn’t know before 2022/2023 that people communicated like that. With hints and double speak. I never engaged in double speak like that. But that’s a confusing part of the story. I always enjoyed puns, but never knew of “sex game double speak”.

I also believed that they had me on infrared camera. The reason I believed this to be the case is that they watched me in bed at night. And the only way that can work is if that had infrared! This is a gross part of the story, but the whole world is disgusting anyway. I was masturbating in bed at night because it helps me to sleep, and they observed me. And dropped hints the next day. They would drop hints like putting country soft butter in the fridge, to fall out when I opened it. They’re disgusting.

At that point I decided that they don’t count as proper people. I’d chuck them all in a quarantine facility (prison) to live out their days until they died of old age. Just based on that alone. All 100-500 million of them (the fae, as I saw them at the time). They’re just diseased creatures with diseased souls and they should be in a special quarantine facility (prison) for the rest of their lives and die there, to quarantine their diseased souls and lives from the rest of us. They’re just a bunch of depraved perverts and sex pests!

But seriously, anyone who is watching my life for the last 2 years at that point, through cameras, but hadn’t intervened, is just evil. After all I have been through, and they haven’t intervened? For anyone to be that evil… based on those assumptions, they just aren’t proper people. 

Sally: I see. So because you didn’t know about the cell towers it’s different? You thought it was cameras?

David: Yes. I had the wrong idea. But I now know better. They’re still bad people, but it’s more complicated than that. They’re actually worse people, but there is a lot more complexity. I hope you agree.

If it had been cameras, then based on that assumption, everyone would know how bad it was. And based on that, if they hadn’t lobbied for my release, they’re evil beyond words. But because it was cell towers monitoring me, and it’s hidden and not well coordinated, then some grace can be offered to the wider set overseas for example.

Sally: Yes, the cell towers really do represent a different type of horror!

David: and so anyway. I tried to learn their culture and games.

They kept on dropping hints about stuff.

***

Trade Me dropped hints too.

When I was being pushed to sleep with Lilia, they made comments online suggesting to me that I should not “park in the driveway”.

And also they put pot plants in many of the housing advertisements online. When I was looking for a new place to stay.

*

They tried to push me to chase Lilia.

And they tried to push me to chase Siobhan. She had an instagram page dedicated to luring me in. And she also posted pictures online. Like with visual hints involving things like swings, coffee and grass.

They really wanted me to start having sex. And my father made it clear to me that if I started having sex, I would find it easier to find a place to live. But that if I didn’t, that I might find it much harder to find a place to live! The system itself also made it clear to me that there was a link between sex and finding safe and appropriate accomodation.

And yeah. There were a lot of games and scenarios and also information coming from stuff like adverts or social media or who knows where. And I was trying to figure out what happened in the past!! And so I was looking at people’s social media. To learn as well.

***

I made some attempts to communicate with them about their games to do with sex. Apparently “coffee” is a term to do with their games. And also “olives” has something to do with these games. I didn’t know that those words were used as hints before 2023! I am new to this.

I think I tried to use their language (which I called corkscrew). I think I tried to communicate with Lilia by signalling with a jar of olives, which I bought right for the purpose. And I talked to her about a “pool” and also “coffee”. But I didn’t know how this stuff works?!

I think I indirectly asked or suggested that we do something (as was expected of me). And was turned down. But I gave it a go anyway, because I felt that it would be insulting or rude not to! And so I made a minor attempt, mostly out of politeness and kindness.

I also understood that women sometimes have to have a “haircut” if they fail to seduce a man. And so I gave it one attempt. And I didn’t really want to do these games. That’s the gist of it. I hope to give a better account of it later.

I know that this is vague, but it’s hard to be direct and speak plainly. My memory is of this period of time is imperfect, I’m quite tired. And also a lot of the things done are “indirect” which I hate, so clearly defining and describing them can be an issue. But I was clearly expected to participate in “games”.

****

****

Anyway, if they had turned off the machines that “clamp down” and tighten my muscles, then I would have recovered.

And I think that I could have recovered within a few months.

*

And if they allowed me to use the “accessible” shower, then I could have washed.

I hadn’t showered in five and three quarter years at the point at which I moved from 6 Raine Street in Karori to 1/106 Khandallah Road in Khandallah.

****

****

I am going to rewrite this whole page.

And the reason I am going to do it is that when I did this page in the first place I had to jump from where I was up to in writing my life story (2011) into the future. I jumped from 2011 to 2023. And what this means is that I have had to jump all over the place to explain stuff from the past. And then that also a lot of it just isn’t explained. You don’t know the whole back story. A lot of context is missing as well, just in general.

But once you know the backstory, a lot of it will make more sense and flow better. And also once I write the whole story, I won’t have to jump backwards and forwards so much. The story will just flow.

And what that means is that once I have written up my stories from 2011 up until 2023 then I will probably write up a better version and story of the events on this page.

And so I am going to write up a bit more of my life story.

And then I will (hopefully) rewrite this page.

***

I have added in a link of the open letter to the fae about my father, which was a part of an email to my lawyer. It’s the best copy I could find.

Here it is:

https://howcommunicatetwo.blogspot.com/2026/09/additional-information-message-i-tried.html

**

The next part of this story is available on my website (in draft or work in progress format).

My Life Story: Raine Street, Khandallah Road and Hutt Road, part B

***

Note to self, for editing:

Mention to these people that the reason I got involved with these women is that I was threatened into it or that I did it out of politeness. Otherwise, that they crippled me and kidnapped me (note also that at the time I didn't realise why I was crippled).

And I need to update the Lilia stuff.