“What do you mean I’m 27, have three kids, and live in Ohio?” I asked the woman on the other line. “I’m a 21-year-old college student from California, and I’ve never even been to Ohio.”

“Fraud is against the law,” she told me. “I don’t know who you are, but you are definitely not the person to whom this bill belongs.” There was an angry tone in her voice.

This was a conversation I would never forget. It was the day that I found out there were two of me. There was myself, who I know was me because I spent my entire life being that person. Then there was “her.”

My “Twilight Zone” experience began with the mail. One day I received an AT&T telephone bill with my name on it, so I opened it. I had never had service with AT&T before, so I was a little suspicious. It said I owed $33. The telephone number for the bill had a 612 area code. I looked it up in the phone book, and it was for somewhere in Ohio. I called AT&T, and a representative apologized and said it must have been some kind of accident, and that it wouldn’t happen again.

But only a month later, it happened again. This time, when I called, I was put on hold for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the representative returned.

She asked me if I was the person whose name was on the bill. It sure sounded like mine.

“Yes,” I answered.

Then she read me my social security number and asked if it was correct.

“Yeah,” I answered again.

“Well, our records show that you set up an account about four months ago.”

“That’s impossible,” I replied. “I’ve never set up an account with you, and I live in California. So why would I have an Ohio phone number?”

“Let me transfer you over to our fraud department,” the rep said as my heart started racing. “We will get this figured out.”

I stayed on hold while the fraud department called on the phone numbers on the bill. After each call, a representative would come on the line and tell me what was happening. I was on hold for hours, patiently waiting for this to be solved so I could get on with my day. Finally, a woman named Betty told me that they’d figured everything out. She’d called all the numbers, and determined they belonged to my ex-husband, my mother, my probation officer, my welfare caseworker, and my children’s school.

I told her this was impossible since I didn’t have an ex-husband, a probation officer, children, nor welfare. That’s when she began to tell me that I’m 27, have three kids, and live in Ohio. When I told her who I was, my age and where I lived, she told me I was lying because she even called my “mother,” who verified my social security number.

She told me to wait some more because she had another call.

At this point, I was on the verge of hysteria. The only thing holding me somewhat together was my boyfriend, who was holding me, running his fingers through my hair, and telling me that everything would be all right. It was the only time I honestly didn’t believe him.

The incoming call Betty had was from my supposed ex-husband. She told me to stay calm. Everything she was about to tell me might come as a shock. The ex-husband’s name was Keith, and he had told the AT&T rep just what was going on. She asked me if I was ready to hear it. I said yes, but I knew from the change in her voice that this was going to be a hard pill to swallow.

She said Keith used to be married to a woman whose name was almost exactly like mine. She worked for American Express, and was fired months ago for making charges on other people’s accounts, then erasing them in the computer. She found my file with all my information – social security number, mom’s maiden name and everything else you provide when you apply for a credit card. Because our names were so similar, she’d also applied for a new driver’s license, changing the spelling of her name to mine. When she got her new driver’s license, she went to get a new social security card with my number. It worked, and now she had all the documents she needed to become me.

At this point, I was speechless. I began crying uncontrollably and started to hyperventilate. The woman said there was nothing more she could do for me except advise me to get copies of my credit reports and go to the police. She gave me Keith’s telephone number, saying that he was willing to help out in any way he could.

I spent about six hours on the phone that day, hearing how my life had become unraveled. What was happening was very real, but at the same time, it felt impossible. I had always taken precautions to prevent something like this from happening. I never used my credit cards online, always shredded documents with private information, and never gave my social security number out, unless it was in a secure situation.

That night, after I had cooled down a little, my boyfriend and I went to the Arcata Police Department to file a report. As it was, I didn’t like police officers, but I figured I needed help on this case. I told two officers what had happened, but they started laughing at me.

“What do you expect us to do about this?” one of the officers asked, while still laughing at me.

“What do I expect you to do?” I replied angrily. “I expect you to stop laughing at me and do your jobs, you assholes.” I was in awe that I called the cops assholes, but I guess it worked because they began to take my report.

The next day, I requested copies of my three credit reports, which show all the activity from my social security number. Two of the reporting agencies said they couldn’t send my reports because I couldn’t verify the address, because they had “her” address on file. I finally did receive one, and was amazed by what I saw. I called Keith, the woman’s ex-husband, and he told me everything she had done under my name and social security number.

Under my name she had received welfare in three states, had been divorced, had spent $20,000 with credit cards, had been arrested three times, had received child support payments – not to mention opening accounts for cable TV, cell phone and other things.

I tried to have these things erased from my credit report. The companies would delete my files because it’s cheaper for credit card companies to erase a debt than spend money trying to prosecute an identity thief.

According to lawyers, the woman who stole my identity didn’t defraud me, she defrauded the credit card companies. And, unless they press charges, she will never get in trouble for this. I spent the next year talking to fraud investigators, the district attorney where she lives, welfare fraud investigators, attorneys and credit card companies. Everyone I talked to would tell me the same thing – there was nothing I could do because she didn’t commit a crime against me.

At this point, my schoolwork was starting to suffer because I’d spent so much time trying to regain my identity.

Every time I checked the mail, it was bad news – credit reports with newly opened accounts that weren’t mine, bills for services I never requested, and tax information for jobs I never held.

On the back of our social security cards, it states that it is illegal for someone other than you to use your number. That person could face imprisonment and fines. But a representative with the Social Security Administration told me that “we just put that on there.”

I was frustrated, and tired of spending hours each day on the telephone, on hold.

My sanity was shrinking as my debts grew. I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

Months after the nightmare began, my boyfriend and I got married. We decided to legally change our name to celebrate our marriage and a new beginning. Now, I’m Mariko Amekodommo. We made up the last name (it means “candy kid” in Japanese), and hope that no one tries to steal it. It’s always possible, though, no matter how hard you try to protect it.

My identity theft is now in the back of my mind, and some days I’ll forget about it altogether. A few weeks ago, I got a new credit report, and I see that the mystery woman is still using all my information. I don’t care because credit is a stupid corporate institution anyway, and I’d rather not use it. My husband, Sky, and I plan to move to Vancouver, British Columbia, next spring when we are finished with school. I’ve already talked with the Canadian immigration authorities, and because of my identity theft, I’ll have a better chance to become a citizen. They agree with my beliefs.

I’m a smart person with many talents, a person with a lot to offer to my country. Yet, I want to serve a country that serves me. The United States, its government, and its laws did not serve and protect me. In Canada, from what I’ve read, things like this don’t really happen.

I can’t wait.