Internet Stalkers

To be honest, when I hear stories of internet stalking, I was kind of cynical. I didn’t see how it would work. I thought you had to be open, to be vulnerable in some way to be targetted, to be lured into some strange web of lies and mental illness. I thought I was smarter than that. I wasn’t.

As human beings, most of us like to help people. We like to be the one who doesn’t cross the street, the one who doesn’t prioritise their own activities over others, who will help if they can. And that’s where these people target.

Don’t misunderstand, there have been many, many worse experiences than mine. Families have lost loved ones, other people have had to start new lives. Often these things end in bitterness, acrimony, self-doubt and, in the worst cases, murder. My experience wasn’t like that. It was unpleasant, but nowhere near the horror some people experience. I wanted to write this not only as a kind of therapy for myself, but as a warning. The Internet isn’t full of menacing, unpleasant people. But there are enough of them to think so.

It starts with an idle conversation. Perhaps about music, or a film, or any number of subjects which could be termed ‘openers’. A brief but seemingly harmless conversation will ensue. And there, you assume it ends. But it doesn’t. Not for the other party. Soon, they are commenting on something again, perhaps idly passing an opinion designed to get a response. And once again a short chat will take place, perhaps not as short as the first one, but seemingly innocent enough.

It’s not. It’s part of a specific pattern which is always followed. Soon, pages which you liked are commented on, causing a notification on your profile. You investigate and, again, perhaps a friendly word is exchanged. Soon, other pages follow the same pattern, before the ‘let’s talk by direct message’. This, like the scammers who say ‘you want to move to Whatsapp or Telegram’ is the danger signal. But because I didn’t register this and because of the care and consideration the other party took in building a rapport. I made a mistake. I went with it.

I’m not saying I am an angel. I’ve done things online which I regret. Actions and words which can’t be taken back. But the mistakes I have made are no worse than the mistakes everyone makes. But that one decision was a big one.

The conversation was about art, music, politics. It covered personal issues and problems, it was advice and help. It may sometimes have been flirtatious but it was never over the line. Because you feel comfortable, you’re talking to a friend. What’s the worst that can happen.

And this went on, mostly friendly chat with a couple of minor disagreements. But nothing to indicate what was to come.

Like all friendships, real of faux, disagreements arise. I don’t really remember what the beef was, what comment set it off. But within a couple of minutes a tirade of abuse was foisted upon me. Voice messages with garbled, contradictory content spoken at a rate which sounded like a tape machine on double speed, dripping with bile and invective. Interspersed with these were brief, sternly worded demands for replies. It was like talking to an entirely different person. Accusations reined down on me; a veritable shower of unpleasantness.

What I had done, I don’t remember. But I couldn’t stand this constant demand on my time by someone I really didn’t know. Someone who didn’t appreciate every aspect of my life was not for their inspection, consumption or business. Questions were asked why I wasn’t replying. Demands were made as to why it showed I had read their latest piece of vitriol and not responded. Constant, never ending stream of assumption and misplaced jealousy.

Completely different from the original comment on a local comedy club that had initiated the entire conversation. Yet there it was. Scrolling up my monitor with each new missive.

I said to give me a few days though in reality I had no intention of coming back. Again, the screaming and shouting appears on my screen. And I became aware this was not going to stop. So I did the only thing open to me, I deactivated the account.

I felt instantly better. I deactivated it for a week and during that week my temprement improved, my manner became better. I wasn’t as short tempered, I didn’t have this constant noise in the back of my head, know those bits of electronic hate mail weren’t waiting for me.

I have to be honest, it was freeing. I’ve done it before, just signed out for a year or so, but this was the same thing condensed into seven days were I was more productive, more energetic and ultimately, happier.

But here’s the rub. I missed my actual friends. And so, after five days, I logged back in. The slew started almost immediately, the demands for an apology for having the timerity to make a choice. But worse, this person had been harassing my friends. She had been in my friend list and decided to slag me off, saying all manner of things, most of them untrue, fanciful or just plain lies.

That was it. Block. Delete. And a note to the Police about her harassment. But then I discover she’s done this sort of thing before. Latched onto someone, wormed their way in, and become obsessed.

I am hoping I have heard the last of it. I don’t know if I have at this point. Now I walk on eggshells, nervous of almost every interaction. It’ll pass. It’s partly the effect its’ had and partly my surprise I fell into this situation. I thought I knew better. I didn’t. And it worries me that other people are falling into the same situation, daily. Often with much worse outcomes. It’s a cold revelation that the system which was supposed to bring us all together, has brought many of us together with people we should be nowhere near.

The Internet is full of strange people with odd ideas. Most are harmless. But which?