Carol

Dear CAROL,

I know exactly what you're doing. You can ignore my emails and my phone calls...it doesn't matter. I will see this thing through to the end. Even if you decide to stop reading this now and throw it away, burn it or whatever, it won’t matter in the long run.

As you well know, my purse was stolen on the 15th of January this year. Either by you or someone else. In any case, it ended up in your possession. Since this time you have been illegally using my driver’s license for purposes of identification and fraudulently using my credit card, which has basically resulted in my life savings being depleted. What kind of person would do something like this? Over the last couple of months, this is a question I have often wanted to ask you because I am genuinely curious. In any case, I have presented evidence of your criminal activities to the police. You maybe ask why is she telling me this? The fact is, by the time you read this (or don't), there will be a knock on your door. That know will be police. And yes, you’re right: I am gloating because I want satisfaction. Jesus, after all, I have been through, I don't even expect justice anymore. I just want the satisfaction of knowing you have being put in handcuffs and I have got my life back. I’ll admit that up until this point I must have been completely naive: I had no idea this kind of thing was possible in Australia. I always thought it would be some fake Nigerian prince or a Russian mobster. I stupidly thought only these distant, shadowy figures lurking on the internet would be capable of something like this. I assumed that only they would possess the required lack of a moral compass and the resources to completely infiltrate and take over another person's identity. Obviously, I was wrong. I would have never suspected that having your purse stolen one humid afternoon at the Kings Cross markets when I had turned my back for literally five seconds could result in one person being split into two parallel entities: The real one (me, Carol Taylor) and the psychotic, counterfeit one (you: whoever the hell you are when you're not pretending to be me bitch). I can't impress upon you the extent of the personal damage you've caused. The heartache, both financial and emotional. The utter arrogance you have displayed in ‘being me’. The holiday to Fiji you took on my credit card. The speeding tickets you have amassed. The traffic accident. The online shopping. Downloading disgusting pornography for god-sakes! Hacking into my social media accounts so that my family, friends and work colleagues think I am a complete lunatic. That I have some kind of mental breakdown. I mean I can understand the motivation for financial gain (drugs? Is that your thing? Or just basic criminal intent?) but to ruin a person’s reputation? What do you get out that??? You are actively changing other people's perception of me. How I am perceived both professionally and socially. Some of these people I have known and been close to for my entire life. This includes my husband and my immediate family. Again, I would ask you, what kind of person would do this?

As you well know, this fraud has been going on for the better part of eight months, and although I have repeated asked the authorities for help in this matter, very little has happened. You know what I have learnt about identity theft? Since you took over my life, I have learnt that once perpetrated against you, it can be very difficult to prove and therefore regain your identity. It all depends on the audacity of the criminal. The extent to which they are willing to go. (Perversely, I do have to take my hat off to you. You did a marvellous job. You really did. ) It is a frightening thing. Basically, society finds it easier to deal with individuals as numbers and bar codes. And when you present a story which contradicts the holy narrative of your numbers, passwords, codes and digital identity people are more apt to become suspicious than believing you. Doubt is easier. Doubt means you can get on with your life and not become tangled up in this...mess. They doubt you, even though you're standing before them, explaining exactly what happened. Members of the legal community, the police, family doctors, librarians...you name it.

That is why I took matters into my own hands. I found you and I recorded your routine and movements. Simple as that. You have taught me how to be this way-how to be covert and duplicitous- through necessity. In order to survive. What was I supposed to do? Nothing? Let a person walk around using my identity as if it were a rental car? In any case, I have gathered enough in evidence to present to the authorities and that's exactly what I have done at 11 am this day. (21.4.15). I just want to let you know that I am more than a series of convenient passwords and bank details. I am a living and breathing person with a life that you have stolen and ruined. I just wanted you to read these words as the police came knocking. I wonder if you can even begin to comprehend how difficult it is for me to explain to people what has happened to me. Forget about the different bureaucratic forces that govern our lives- just think for a moment how this kind of thing would test the limits of friendships and demonstrate just how far family members are willing to extend themselves in your defence. In a strange way, I suppose this has been revelatory insomuch as it has shown which of my friends are willing to go the distance. And which would abandon me soon at the first sign of real trouble.

You know it's strange, once, when I was in London with my husband Keith (Of course you know who Keith is because you have access to every bloody aspect of my life) I saw, standing on a street corner, my own doppelgänger. My true double. This woman looked exactly like me. It was like walking towards your own reflection in a mirror but then, at a certain point, having the reflection fail to mimic your movements. To act independently. Is the most peculiar sensation. I mean this woman had the same bone structure, the same facial symmetry, the same features and the same hair as me. She was the same height and the exact same body type. Hips, breasts, shoulders, legs: you could not detect a difference. The resemblance was so striking, I remember people walking past were looking back, taking note as if they were experiencing an optical illusion. I guess my point is you go through your life feeling unique but then one day you run into an exact copy of yourself. The difference was, although she was physically my doppelgänger, my long lost twin, she still had her own internal life. She could've been anything or anyone (I tried to talk to her but she didn’t speak English. She was Polish. All we could do was smile at each other and acknowledge our similarities through gestures). The resemblance, although mind-boggling was only external. Now I know exactly what it feels like to have your life completely taken away. Your internal life. And really, who cares about appearance? We all change over time. Some more and some less. Some people look nothing like their children, the teenagers or even young adults they once were. You can live with the fact that there is someone (or maybe multiple people) who physically resemble you in this world. Maybe even down the mole on your inner thigh. But your internal being?  

I know I keep coming back to this but…what kind of person could hijack someone else's life? Ethically speaking, there must be moments in which you experience self-loathing and disgust? Surely there has to be? I have to admit I do find the psychology of this fascinating. That you would be willing to be somebody else for such a sustained period of time (eight months). Who else have you been in your life? How many lives have you stolen or borrowed? You’re obviously successful at this. Anyway, I suppose the police will sort this out. In regards to my situation, know exactly what you’ve been up to. Of course, it was in my best interest, for the purposes of gathering the evidence, that I get to know your routine in extensive detail. And of course, I was amazed that not only had you taken on my legal identity but that you also had begun to physically mimic me. Clothing, gestures, behaviour. Somehow you managed to make a copy of the street key and the apartment key which gave you access to my building. I have been watching you come and go over the past couple of weeks. The most astounding thing was that you managed to convince not only my neighbours but also my husband that you are in fact....me. I still haven't figured out how exactly you pulled this off. All I can think of is that Keith has always been a fairly easy going and tolerant (to-the-point-of-being-susceptible) person. He avoids complications and conflict. That is why we work so well together as a couple. I am a take charge person and he has always been willing to let me assume the more assertive role in our relationship. I never really understood the extent to which this was true until now. Sleeping with my husband is inexcusable. Not only that, you have also discovered where I work at the language school and have somehow managed to find work there, taking my classes (further compromising my livelihood and reputation). Again I'm not quite sure how you managed to convince other people that you are Carol Taylor. The only explanation I can come up with is mass hypnosis. I understand other people's scepticism when I explain this to them. It sounds a bit ‘out there’. But I have seen it done to many people. Do you honestly think the government does not actively use these techniques to shape and mould our thinking beyond toothpaste ads? (Most people have their thoughts manufactured from the age of 12 onwards. They just don’t know it.

As you are well aware by this point, I have started fighting back. And sometimes my tactics have been underhanded, I'll admit that. This was necessary because you need to fight fire with fire. I will take responsibility for the phone calls and the dead pigeon. But when I think about you in my bed or sitting on my sofa watching my television, wearing my clothes, acting out my life, never letting your guard down, even when you are alone in the privacy of a closed off room. The willpower to do this...my god!

Regardless, I will win in the end. You’ll see. I will continue until I get back what you've taken. Even if for some reason the police fail to show up today, I will get my life back.

Carol Taylor

26/05/2013