Gaslit: Walking Through The Fire

Most books about gaslighting are written after the healing This one is written from inside the RV While he sleeps twenty feet away

Jennifer Pittman is a descendant of the Freedmen Black slaves of the Cherokee Nation Her grandmothers name was Myrtle Freedman She carried the name of her people in her own name every single day of her life She wore pain like the finest of diamonds And she passed something forward that could not be owned

Jennifer did not find out about the betrayal from a distance She was there in the building both times Thanksgiving morning she walked the dog for fifteen minutes and came back with a recording that split her life in two Christmas Eve she was downstairs while he was upstairs in the same house She had the proof She had the recordings She had everything

And three people looked her in the eye and called her schizophrenic

Gaslit Im Not Crazy is not a memoir written from the other side Jennifer is still in it still in the RV still navigating the threats and the coordinated denial and the daily fog of being told her own perception is broken She writes the way you talk at 2 am when there is no one left to call raw real and without a single apology

This is a book about what gaslighting actually feels like from the inside About loving someone who needed you to doubt yourself About holding the truth in both hands when everyone around you insists it is not real

It is also the story of Myrtle Freedman Of Brenda Fae the Earth angel who glowed when she died Of a Heyoka empath who pressed record held her mothers hand galloped down a purple street in Knoxville and claimed her birthright

Freedom

If you have ever been told you were imagining things by someone you loved this book was written for you Not by someone who has healed By someone who is still fighting Still standing Still turning pain into power one page at a time

Even the dimmest of light can pierce the Armor of Darkness