I don't remember very much at all those next couple of months, if anything. I don't even remember the initial hearing that followed in December. I can't even remember Christmas that year.
I remember being at odds with my husband. I couldn't pay the gas bill and it got shut off. I left him there while I took the kids to spend the night at my real dad and step-mom's house. I think that was that time anyway.
I just remember telling him to figure it out. I was done. I couldn't do anything about anything.
I was sick of him not caring about me. I was sick of everyone not caring about me.
Disclaimer: This blog may contain cursing and vulgar language. Not suitable for children under the age of 14. Having said that, this is my blog - so feel free to fuck right off if you don't like it. I'm trying to heal my own emotional traumas and wounds and maybe help someone else by doing it. I apologize in advance if you don't like how my memories and feelings make you feel - but thats on you. That's on you to heal ;)
Thanks for reading!
Most of my friends and family stopped talking to me over this.
Yea, my Aunt, that I had, at one time, wished she was my mother.. Her and her daughter, my BEST FRIEND cousin was angry with me because my Gram had given me money to pay for the attorney and to get out of jail.
I remember my cousin texting me, "you could have just used the public defender". She said something else about her being in a bad financial position and she could have used some money.
I couldn't believe it. My best friends. My blood family. I had two best friend cousins at that time and they both didn't want anything to do with me after all this had happened.
My mother did stick up for me with my aunt and they still don't talk to each other to this day over it. Honestly, I think my mother just was really waiting for an excuse to cut my aunt out. My intuition tells me it had more to do with my mother's own self hatred, resentment and jealousy toward her sister than defending me.
Regardless, I was ignorantly happy to believe that my mother believed in me and my innocence that much.
And I can honestly tell you that if it hadn't been for my Gram helping me - I would not be here today. And I think she knew that. I was in the darkest time of my entire life.
(So, October 2013 the State charged me with 6 felonies. If you've been following this story, you'd know that back in June 2013, I had went down south for a month and stayed with my step dad. I came back in July 2013 and started a new job right across the street from my ex employer.
If you remember, at this point, I have already told my husband that I didn't want to be with him anymore and that I wanted to split amicably.)
It was January 2014 now. I don't remember my son's birthday that year either. Was he 8 now? I missed out on so much while being right there the whole time. Literally, a living zombie. Did I even make him a cake? I'm sure I made him his favorite dinner.. I do that every year.. I did, didn't I?
My husband had accused me of cheating in January 2014. I admitted to it just for the shear fact that he didn't believe that I just wasn't happy and that I just didn't want to be with him. I had spent the last 3 years having sex with him every other day just to prove a fucking point. To prove that I wasn't the one to ruin this relationship - in the end, none of it mattered. He was never going to change or compromise or care about me - period. So yea, he asked me if I had cheated and, at that point, I said, "I sure fucking did". And that's all it took. lol. I swear, it seems like that's the only way to get a man to leave you alone.
I was so fed up with the fake bullshit that I was surrounded in. I didn't care about proving my point anymore.
By the end of the month, he had filed for divorce.
I mean, I wasn't filing for divorce. I had to do everything. I had enough to deal with..
During that divorce process, he was such a fn victim. Poor him. I had hurt him. I had cheated. I was the bad one. His mother and father and sister all looked at me like I murdered their son. I didn't care what they thought.
Not one time did any of those people that were supposed to have been my family for the last eight years, cared one little bit about me or for me. LMAO
I laugh now, thinking about it.. I was so upset. I have mourned soo many fake ass people in my life during all of this. You really see people for who they are when shit hits the fan.
Turns out that the divorce proceedings were being held in the same court in front of the same judge as my criminal case.
I don't want to get too much into my first husband's marriage and divorce because he has a very special story I'm writing. lol
Ok, anyway, he didn't even tell me he was filing for divorce.. Which is whatever. I was glad he did it. I know I was done. I don't think he was though. It was clear that he wasn't going to move out and even said that I didn't need to move out right away. Which seems bizarre to me. Why would you want to cohabitate with a woman who cheated on you in that tiny two bedroom house? Did he still want me to sleep in bed with him and have sex with him every other day?? Probably lmao.
I had managed to save what little money I could along with some help from my Gram and current employer; and I applied for a low income apartment.
For a few brief moments, things seemed to be okay and I was going to be fine. I could do this on my own without a man's helping hand holding me down. I didn't need to beg or plead with a man to allow me and my kids for a place to stay. I was gonna do it on my own.
In that same instant I felt hope and a tiny smidge of relief. Everything was going to be okay.
In that same moment, hopelessness set back in as I answered the call from the apartment complex.
They had denied my application due to my PENDING felony charges that showed up on my background check.
And there I was, crying.. again.
I don't remember how long I sat sitting there in my hopelessness with my face in my hands. I just remember one minute crying and then one minute I was equally enraged and angry.
I felt fn bi-polar most days. I didn't know how to overcome these emotions and get my shit together. It seemed like one fn wave after another and the current was drowning me, sweeping me out to sea by the undertow.
I pushed my body back, slumped in my chair, head pointed towards the ceiling as if I was waiting (or hoping) that something would just fall on my face and either give me an answer or kill me..
I would have welcomed death at that point. I was such a mess then. I wish I could have picked that fragile little girl up and helped her then.
Lol. My poor best friend co-worker. She shouldered a lot of my burdens for me when she knew I couldn't. She was such a light for me when I needed one. I know for a fact that if it had not been for her and a few other key people - I would not be here today.
As I sit here staring at this screen, my fingers gently resting on the keyboard preparing themselves for a flood of words that will ultimately take form on this page. I can only sit here and stare at the screen as I think back to that day. Sitting just like I was back then in my work chair, I tilt my head back and remember that day.
The feelings swell in my throat as I replay those first few moments of that telephone conversation with the apartment complex. It was like slow motion as I put my phone down on the desk.
Per usual, I was crying in defeat.
I slumped back into my chair and let my head fall to rest against my chair. I let my arms fall over each side as if I was silently praying, "Lord, just take me now". I sat there for a few moments, trying to calm myself down. I remember hearing myself say, "calm down girl, you don't have time for a panic attack right now. Get your shit together and let's go."
I'm not really sure how much time had passed at this point, but I jolted up and began my research.
I remember being very anxious as I read over the guidelines regarding eligibility for the low income housing complex. It clearing stated that convicted felons would be denied housing. I also remember feeling okay about submitting my application because I was NOT a convicted felon (and if I had anything to say about it, I would never be one either).
But still! I hadn't been convicted of anything.
Slamming my hand on my desk, I look over at my bestie co-worker and say, "This is a violation of my 5th Amendment. Aannd discrimination, damn it!".
I spent the rest of that day drafting my letter to the housing authority, the apartment complex, the board of directors of the apartment complex, their parent company and sister company along with cc'ing my attorney.
I have no idea what that letter said today. Not a clue. I just know I worked on it for an entire day. I researched the 5th Amendment, cited cases that supported my violation claim. I researched housing authority discrimination; along with discrimination in general and cited cases that supported those claims.
I remember emailing it to my real dad to review and mark up for me. He's the only person I knew who had writing experience and would give me an honest take on it.
Of course, he reviewed it for me and made correction and/or suggestions. I can't remember if I picked up his corrections that evening or maybe the next morning before work?
Come to think of it, I don't even think I consulted my attorney to obtain his wise council first. I don't even think I cared. Man, was I furious with this whole situation. Just fuming from this giant fn inconvenience that this man has put me in.
My face still seems to turn into my mug shot when I think back on what that fn man put me through.
I was researching him today while I wrote this part of my story. I saw his picture online and I was immediately filled with disgust for the human I was looking at.
Actually, I hadn't felt any sort of way until I found an article on him from last year's newspaper. He had been suspended from practicing law for 90 days after the Indiana Supreme Court found he engaged in professional misconduct.
I continued to read on to learn that, "he was representing a man against a woman who had petitioned for a protective order. At the deposition, he confronted the woman with several 8-by-10 color copies of intimate photos she had sent his client, putting the pictures on the table for all the individuals in the room to see. He then asked the woman, “Why do women who seek the aid of the court send these kinds of pictures to men?” He ended the deposition and told the woman the pictures would become part of the public record if she continued to petition for the protective order. However, he said she could prevent that by filing a dismissal. Then he proceeded to advise her on how to file for dismissal. Afterward, he bragged to an associate about how he got the woman to drop the petition by threatening to have the photographs become part of the record. He was found to have violated Professional Conduct Rules:
4.1(a): Knowingly making a false statement of material fact or law to a third person in the course of representing a client.
8.4(c): Engaging in conduct involving dishonesty, fraud, deceit or misrepresentation.
8.4(d): Engaging in conduct prejudicial to the administration of justice.
The Supreme Court went on to say, "that he engaged in deception that was “part of an intentional and purposeful plan he devised to coerce and bully the petitioner into dismissing her case under threat of having her intimate photos exposed.”
He only received a three month suspension. LMAO. SMFH
However, the fact, that he was still on his bullshit of abusing what little power he had in this shit show of a community, kinda triggered me.
I'm sure my dad gave me hug when he saw me but I don't remember. I can't seem to remember the little stuff from that time period. The little stuff, you know, daily mundane activities and routines. The shit people seem to be so bored with and tired of... Not me though. I love those activities today. I never miss a sunset unless the clouds save it for themselves that day..
Anyway, I remember making the corrections he gave me at work that day. I found all the email addresses online that I needed to defend my constitutional rights as an American citizen. I was not going to go quietly this time. No. Not. This. Time.
I remember almost throwing up as I built the courage to click that send email button. "Just do it", I heard myself say, "What's the worst thing that could happen here? You get denied? Again? LMAO. Give me a break girl".
I hit send and prayed.
I think that's all for tonight - Sweet dreams friends.
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