I wasn't "born with a 6-pack." I have done a lot of sit-ups in my life, and not doing them changes what I look like.
I also have never taken hormonal birth control; I always used condoms. I haven't had a lot of sex; if I had, I probably would have used a condom and a diaphragm or a condom and a cervical cap.
Probably, a lot of women have weight problems and other things happen to their bodies because of taking hormonal birth control. Literally, I have never taken one month's cycle of The Pill.
I'm sure that Vogue knows how many years the conglomerate has attacked me about what I look like, from having acne to having a turkey neck. I finally took Accutane for a few months in 2012 or 2013, and haven't had a lot of acne since then. It's all over my back in the SICK, SADISTIC, ILLEGAL videos of me that were filmed in the shower at the homeless shelter in Vermont when I got out of the Vermont State Hospital in 2011, after having spent 4 months there as a mental patient. Sometimes, I even had pimples in the outer part of my vagina, which I'm sure that the people who put the hidden cameras in that shower and the people who got the SICK, SADISTIC, ILLEGAL videos filmed from those cameras thought was really funny. That's in addition to the body hair that I didn't have the money to wax, and my getting my period, for which the conglomerate has not stopped tormenting me for 5 years.
The videotaping of me in bathrooms that started in the homeless shelter in Vermont in 2011 was after being coughed and sneezed at every day of those four months at the Vermont State Hospital. It even happened at night when I was trying to sleep; staff doing night checks would cough outside the door of my room. There were staff and patients who did that every day, and said things to try to trigger me, about water and fish, things being dirty and sloppy; did you know that? I think that Ms. Robbie probably didn't. The staff and patients who bullied me at the Vermont State Hospital all knew about the conglomerate's misogynist persecution of me; they thought it was funny to emotionally torture me and then say that I was crazy. It got dangerous for me more than once. Mental hospitals tend to be dangerous places, because of what the system is like more than because of what the patients are like.
It seems that I am doomed to be attacked no matter what I do, from being called a manipulative temptress out to steal people's men to being called ugly to being attacked for attempting to care for my appearance, and that even a magazine that purports to be for women thinks that I deserve to be mercilessly attacked and called a psychotic freak who has no personality. Certainly the conglomerate has tried to dehumanize me to such an extent that it has succeeded in making itself believe that I'm not a person and that I have no rights.
Perhaps you think it's funny to ridicule people who have psychiatric histories? A lot of people think that; it is a form of discrimination that has changed almost not at all for centuries.
Leonardo DiCaprio started all of the coughing and similar harassment, after I rejected him in 2010. It's a reference to vaginal odor, meaning a dirty slut as defined by misogynists like him. Did you know that? He's never met me. I have had sex with a total of 4 people in my entire life, all of them not famous. I was a virgin until I was 27 and haven't had sex for what will soon be 13 years; one crisis after another has prevented me from having relationships. Do you think that anyone knows how many people Mr. DiCaprio has had sex with?
The water that Martin Scorsese and Mr. DiCaprio had Ms. Robbie throwing in Mr. DiCaprio's face for a fight scene in The Wolf of Wall Street was a reference to excessive vaginal fluid, meaning the hyperstimulated sexuality of a slut as defined by misogynists like them; did Ms. Robbie know that?
Vogue knows all of this, or should know, because it was there from the beginning.
The journal that I had when I was at BayRidge Hospital in Lynn, MA in December of 2014, and which I think a staffperson must have stolen from my room, seems to be a source of mirth for the conglomerate. It was at BayRidge Hospital where I was involuntarily injected with antipsychotic medication for the first time in my life, watched by a roomful of staffpeople. That happened on a day when I was coughed at both by a doctor and also by a staffperson; the staffperson had persistently harassed me for days. I had tried to get nurses to tell her to stop; that's something that I have had to deal with every day at mental hospitals since the coughing harassment started in 2010. Some of the authorities at those places listen and try to help; most of them don't, and they diagnose my concerns about being harassed as mental illness, even when they're harassing me themselves.
All I did, finally, after being harassed that day, was throw a cup of water at the staffperson who coughed at me, from several feet away. I was then grabbed by staffpeople and brought into what is called "The Quiet Room," which has nothing in it but the plastic bed where they physically restrain and/or medicate people.
There were at least a dozen staffpeople crowded into the Quiet Room, to physically intimidate me into not fighting, which I hadn't done anyway. I insisted that all the men had to leave before I was injected; I don't know if they stayed out of the room once I had to turn my back to the door to get the injections or not.
You have to lie on your stomach and let them pull your pants down so that they give you injections in your butt. I initially tried to have some control over the situation by refusing to lie down or let anyone touch me except with the needle, once I realized that there was nothing I could do to stop the injections from happening. I was not able to do that, and I got injected while lying on my stomach, with all of those people watching from behind me.
Taking people to the Quiet Room and injecting them seems to be a favorite activity at that particular hospital; it happened to other patients when I was there. I was never anywhere that gave so many shots to so many patients before then, not even at the Vermont State Hospital.
My teeth were involuntarily grinding for a few days after the injections; I kept biting my tongue. I had to ask for additional doses of Cogentin to counteract the neurological side effects.
I hadn't seen The Wolf of Wall Street by the time that I was at BayRidge. I really didn't care about seeing any of Mr. DiCaprio's movies; I haven't seen any of his movies in the theater since 2010.
If I have watched some of his movies at YouTube over the past few weeks, it's to place this entire situation so that I can feel like I know what has happened to me. Ms. Robbie can have him if she wants him; I won't argue about it, as long as she doesn't try to make my life more painful.
Copyright L. Kochman, May 23, 2016 @ 12:16 p.m./additions @ 1:05 p.m.
