But, this was no ordinary surveillance.
What I began seeing around me, at work and even after work in my traditional Houston social haunts was blatant following and even what could be called visible harassing; frankly, I was being stalked.
I noticed obvious surveillance of myself by bank security while on-site at our offices; furthermore, I noticed similar surveillance by consistently the same individuals when I was away from the office, in and around the Houston coffee house and bar scene, of which I had long been a frequent attendee.
I'm saying that the surveillance was occurring when I was away from the office, even!
These same off-site persons would regularly do drive by's of my residence and, as I grew obviously more and more uncomfortable with my circumstances, would even wave or honk if they saw me looking.
It was blatant. It was relentless. And in retrospect I can say it was, by design, an effort to literally loose my mental hinges.
And frankly, it worked. And very well at that.
This attention, at work and off, grew to to such a degree that my discomfort and inability to make sense of what I was experiencing eventually culminated in what I now, some five years after, could only call a nervous breakdown of sorts.
Suffice it to say, a month or so after January 1st, 2000, I resigned from the bank.
However, after my resignation, the surveillance within my own neighborhood continued and even intensified.
Furthermore, I began to be witness to a number of regularly occurring social dramas that would be played out in any given of my usual public hang-outs that could only be called psychosocial dramatics, or 'street theatre,' dramas which were, without a doubt, targeting me and seemed designed to illicit even more nervous responses or symptoms.
I also began noticing within my house that various personal items had been tampered with, clothes moved or guitar strings unwound, little tidbits to very definitely let me know that others had been in my personal space.
At a point, certain of my long time friends began to occasionally (and even fearfully) confide in me things they had heard via rumor, rumors specifically regarding me, and especially my personal character regarding, of all things, sexual deviance and criminal actions in general! Also, these persons shared with me that rumors were being spread regarding an investigation of myself, and that certain of these friends should keep their distance from me.
Mind you, I have lived from birth in Houston and the personal friends and social circles that I have developed in that time are not skin deep; and so, I knew these persons were speaking the truth. Besides, I could see it all happening around me.
Suffice it to say, my distress at being stalked throughout every area of my traditional neighborhood eventually culminated in what could only be called a nervous breakdown and, following the direction of a certain acquaintance of mine, I found myself in a community shelter of sorts, until I could get my emotional state under control.
While there, I talked quite openly about what I had been witnessing and even elaborated on any and all personal routines and behaviors that I thought could possibly be the cause of such attention; needless to say, I quickly learned that to approach neighborhood officials/representatives and claim that you suspect, even know that you are being surveilled and seem to be under investigation, is an invitation to be quickly 'diagnosed,' as it's called, with some sort of paranoid disorder.
Therefore, after my initial freak out back in early 2000, I quickly realized that emotional reactions would get me nowhere in proving the existence of an investigation and so I began therewith to educate myself on my legal options insofar as requesting for proof of investigations from federal agencies.