I hope this missive finds you better. I am sorry for what you have lost. I am sorry that your dog died, that your pseudo-husband abandoned you, that you lost your job, that you've been mocked in print and on the web. I am sorry that you are lonely, sorry that you are focused on your wounds, sorry that you seem not to be making much progress.
The world is not unlike a computer in a sense: you send information into it, and it spits responses back at you. One would think, given the responses that you've received, that you would learn, but apparently that is not the case. You need to move on, for your own sake.
Revisiting things on the web is about the least helpful thing that you can do now, for yourself. Hurting others, in a sort of under-motivated Frankenstein's monster way--only hurts you more. The rest of us have gotten on with our lives. Why can't you?
Psychically, I think you would incur a world of good by apologizing to those whom you've attacked. I don't think you will, but there you have it. Your attempts to injure my family, whilst bootless, have not gone unremarked by me. But if you examine what's actually been said and done, I think you'll find it almost as curious as I have that you're for some reason worried about me.
If you'd like to apologize to me, I wait at receipt of toll like some kind of amoeba, or paramecium, pumping water but not really expecting anything at all, as my organelles dilate and contract, alternately.