November 21, 2025, 11:41 a.m., Pacific: Huh. Either they bobbled the pitch or I accidentally hit the ball while flailing around. Anyway, the crisis seems to have passed for now, without any major consequences.
The good times, let them roll on. For now. Until the next crisis — that is what stalkers do, generate crises.
But nothing lasts forever and I’ll just keep on keepin’ on as before, only mentioning it here when it might affect the blog posts or other writing.
Might as well take this opportunity to again mention that, if you have information about these people or supportive advice, please contact me at dnevins360@gmail.com or, most securely (but probably not 100%), mail it to me at Barbara Beier, PO Box 1228, Corvallis, OR 97339 — make sure you get a proof of mailing receipt (free).
Just guaranteed myself metric tons of spam, but just one little diamond mixed in with that would be more than worth it.
November 20, 2025, 6 p.m., Pacific: Well, I’m calmer and have decided to schedule this weekend’s posts — the background work is already done; more importantly, it’s always a good idea to keep the good times rolling whenever possible.
After that it’s iffy, but let’s just take it one step at a time and see how things go.
Original post follows…
This one is short and serious, so I didn’t go with the usual fun feature image.
I don’t go into it because it has nothing to do with my writing and also because I can’t prove anything yet; but I have a serious stalking problem, and the stalkers are very powerful and wealthy, and very good at deniability. I think they have something to do with the birth family that probably lost custody of me at age three, when I was Barbara Jean Deming in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, to my natural father, who changed my last name to his: Beier.
He was no saint, but he was, I think, decent at heart. Nevertheless, the Beier family I grew up in was all messed up.
No one has ever introduced themselves as relatives or shown any overt civilized, conversational interest in me since then or since I reached my majority in 1974.
The stalking, as far as I can tell, either began or intensified to the point that I noticed it after Ed died in 1996. I was very vulnerable then because some traumatic childhood memories had arisen and retraumatized me — note: like me, you might not believe that children protect themselves by burying bad experiences they have without any adult assistance they can see. Try to believe it: otherwise, if your child self did that and the memory comes back as an adult, the impact is much worse.
I know — none of this has to do directly with cats, dogs, volcanism, or geology. Indirectly is another matter.
My goal has always been to build a writing career so I can have funds to get into a safe place, set up a repayment plan for the debts I incurred during this 25-plus-year-long challenge, and then hire lawyers and PIs to expose, prosecute, and convict these stalkers — they will never otherwise start their own paths to healing from their pathology until they are unavoidably faced with it.
The traditional advice given stalking victims is to call the cops. I have NOT found a satisfactory answer to the question of what to do if your stalker is a cop. That’s what I suspect about at least some of the probably birth-family movers and shakers behind this ongoing crime, direct or indirect, although I cannot prove it yet or anything else about this problem.
The most I have been able to achieve is peace of mind after the memory resurgence sent me into a minor nervous breakdown — all praise to the Buddha, his teaching, and the Sangha — and to develop some writing skills.
That’s really a triumph in itself, although not at all related to this science blog.
I bring it up because the bad guys, as I think of them, today threw me a curve ball that I might not be able to hit back and that could mean that I: a) will look unfairly like a jackass offline in my life (as a human being of course I have the usual JA content); b) might be too busy with private affairs to do any posting here.
This blog and the eBooks are a wonderful outlet for me as well as preparatory exercises for professional writing, so this post is all I will say about the troubles, which upon their resolution (if that comes) I will write a book about under my Beier handle.
I did need to tell you about this, though, so you will know why the blog might suddenly go into hiatus, starting either tomorrow or at some other point in the near future.
If that happens, and if humanly possible, I will pick up again as noted in yesterday’s writing update ASAP.
Sorry to bring this all up into a fun blog, but I think it’s necessary and I also hope that this personal crisis turns out to be a hinge between the tough times I’ve had from stalkers since at least 1996 and a much more tranquil and fulfilling life after this.
Flight To Wonder 