A few hours of sleep

A rape nightmare.

Before I woke up from that, I woke up having an anxiety attack.

You can try living with hidden, illegal cameras in your apartment, knowing that the police won't believe you if you tell them, knowing that you have to live with it or you'll be evicted for confronting the maintenance people or property management about it, while EVERYONE who has already seen you be evicted from 2 previous apartments for speaking up about the same crime not only has no empathy for you after your MORE THAN 6 YEARS OF HOMELESSNESS, during which you and everyone around you were also illegally filmed, but blames you more than ever and not only isn't going to tell anyone the truth in so many words about you and all the other people being criminally victimized but is looking forward to saying as many vicious things as it's possible to say about an aging woman, as if what you look like and not the monstrous, controlling behavior of a group of evil people were ever the issue.

I think that a lot of the people in that group think that what's happening to me and the other victims is happening because we're losers, or at least not important enough for it to matter that it's happening to us.  I think that they have cast this issue as a dividing line between Famous and Not Famous, Good and Bad, Admirable and Contemptible, with those pairs of antonyms used interchangeably when they think about whether or not what they're doing is wrong.

They all sidestep the issue of right and wrong; they'd rather think that this is what happens to poor people and to losers.