Wife Attempted to Murder Me Using My 16 Year Old Son
Today was a big day.
Things clicked.
On January 24th, 2017, my then ex-wife Svetlana Macy had made a huge mess in our kitchen. This was 'street theater'. She complained that our son was using drugs and as a result, never before, never since, smashed dishes and threw cutlery throughout the kitchen.
On January 24th 2017, less than a month since our, my son's and my return to Russia, I awoke around 8 a.m. to see son, then 16, and wife arguing. I stepped in between them and was rewarded with a sharp stab from a double tipped knife laid out by my wife for my son by my son. Their hatred of me must have been and remains immense.
Blood was everywhere and I was dying. But for my knowledge that a medical center was nearby, my will, and using a tie as a tourniquet I'd now be dead.
Svetlana playing her role, escorted me to the hospital where, as my vision faded, the medical professionals inserted a lifesaving IV and kept me amongst the living.
We rode an ambulance to a hospital on Liteniy Prospekt. There I was knocked out, the artery in my left arm reconnected, and unbeknownst to me, a nefarious toy of the security services, a 15600 hz tone generating chip installed so as to annoy, distract, and to drive me towards decisions better left untaken.
My son claimed he was drunk. My wife the same. Neither seemed in such a state to me. That was January 24th, 2017 over two years ago.
Since then I have witnessed 'street theater' after 'street theater' performance by my ex wife and son. He feigned an interest in narcotics. She feigned a concern as to this interest. All a show to push my buttons.
Nearly a year ago she had him placed in a drug rehab in Tver. This for show. He messaged me desperately asking me to rescue him. More 'street theater'. She wasn't paying for it. I was. She quit her job, slept til noon, drank wine and watched TV. She'd prepare me food that caused me problems in digestion, likely poisoned. She had done that before as had her lover Alexander Tregubov in August of 2011.
We remarried. It felt suspicious but I went along to see to where this would go. I got her a new US visa last fall in Tallinn. I recall having the worst time eating lunch with her one day throwing up in the street.
None of this bothered her. She had grown up hard and poor in the Soviet Union. I was weaker by far being middle class American.
She tricked me into divorce in 2012 to steal half of my Russian apartment, the scene of an unsolved Notre Dame like fire on May 29, 2009.
In the summer of 2014, an American I had met in Russia, Jason Smolek, had told me unasked the significance of this date, May 29th was JFK's birthday.
This fire was to be blamed on me as part of and only if a secretive CIA planned presidential assassination attempt in 2014 succeeded with both Obama and myself dead. Him as hero. Me as patsy.
My wife's lover, Alexander Valerievich Tregubov had poisoned me in a Russian sauna in August 2011. I lost 35 pounds in a month. The next month my mother died as I held her hand. I was truly going down the rabbit hole. Not long ago Svetlana argued that I had lost the weight from eating little, conflicting with Alexander Tregubov's blaming my poisoning on Evgenyia Kosheleva in December 2013, and NCIS agent Doug Boyce' confirmation in the summer of 2014 via the Russian police that Alexander Tregubov had indeed poisoned me that August 2011.
More to follow. Bed now. Quite a day.
Things clicked.
On January 24th, 2017, my then ex-wife Svetlana Macy had made a huge mess in our kitchen. This was 'street theater'. She complained that our son was using drugs and as a result, never before, never since, smashed dishes and threw cutlery throughout the kitchen.
On January 24th 2017, less than a month since our, my son's and my return to Russia, I awoke around 8 a.m. to see son, then 16, and wife arguing. I stepped in between them and was rewarded with a sharp stab from a double tipped knife laid out by my wife for my son by my son. Their hatred of me must have been and remains immense.
Blood was everywhere and I was dying. But for my knowledge that a medical center was nearby, my will, and using a tie as a tourniquet I'd now be dead.
Svetlana playing her role, escorted me to the hospital where, as my vision faded, the medical professionals inserted a lifesaving IV and kept me amongst the living.
We rode an ambulance to a hospital on Liteniy Prospekt. There I was knocked out, the artery in my left arm reconnected, and unbeknownst to me, a nefarious toy of the security services, a 15600 hz tone generating chip installed so as to annoy, distract, and to drive me towards decisions better left untaken.
My son claimed he was drunk. My wife the same. Neither seemed in such a state to me. That was January 24th, 2017 over two years ago.
Since then I have witnessed 'street theater' after 'street theater' performance by my ex wife and son. He feigned an interest in narcotics. She feigned a concern as to this interest. All a show to push my buttons.
Nearly a year ago she had him placed in a drug rehab in Tver. This for show. He messaged me desperately asking me to rescue him. More 'street theater'. She wasn't paying for it. I was. She quit her job, slept til noon, drank wine and watched TV. She'd prepare me food that caused me problems in digestion, likely poisoned. She had done that before as had her lover Alexander Tregubov in August of 2011.
We remarried. It felt suspicious but I went along to see to where this would go. I got her a new US visa last fall in Tallinn. I recall having the worst time eating lunch with her one day throwing up in the street.
None of this bothered her. She had grown up hard and poor in the Soviet Union. I was weaker by far being middle class American.
She tricked me into divorce in 2012 to steal half of my Russian apartment, the scene of an unsolved Notre Dame like fire on May 29, 2009.
In the summer of 2014, an American I had met in Russia, Jason Smolek, had told me unasked the significance of this date, May 29th was JFK's birthday.
This fire was to be blamed on me as part of and only if a secretive CIA planned presidential assassination attempt in 2014 succeeded with both Obama and myself dead. Him as hero. Me as patsy.
My wife's lover, Alexander Valerievich Tregubov had poisoned me in a Russian sauna in August 2011. I lost 35 pounds in a month. The next month my mother died as I held her hand. I was truly going down the rabbit hole. Not long ago Svetlana argued that I had lost the weight from eating little, conflicting with Alexander Tregubov's blaming my poisoning on Evgenyia Kosheleva in December 2013, and NCIS agent Doug Boyce' confirmation in the summer of 2014 via the Russian police that Alexander Tregubov had indeed poisoned me that August 2011.
More to follow. Bed now. Quite a day.
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