Okay, where did I leave off. Ahh yes, the interview.
Disclaimer: This is my blog - so feel free to fuck right off if you don't like it. I'm trying to heal my emotional traumas and wounds - 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 ;)
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I remember leaving that interview actually feeling kind of okay about the situation. The nice state detective promised that he would call and update me and that I would be notified if charges were going to filed against me so I could be prepared.
I basically made him pinky promise that because, at the time, my biggest fear was (and my eyes still water thinking back about it), I didn't want to be arrested in front of my children. I didn't want them to worry or be sad for me or have that memory burned into their brain.
Every time I thought about it, I would cry, just fn sob. I mean it was a legit concern I think. I prayed every day, all day, since the day I found out that I might be getting charged with this dumb fucking bullshit, that they wouldn't come to my house and arrest me in front of my children.
I would search my name in the criminal case database everyday, multiple times per day for four months in hopes that it would never find a result and that this would all just go away magically.
But that day, fuck. That day it had found my name. The fn day I had been dreading for the last four months had finally materialized in front of my eyes. This day had been living rent fn free in my head for the last four fn months.
This day that made me lose four months of sleep over. This day that made me throw up what little food I could eat for the last four months. Ugh, I will never forget this fn day for as long as I live.
You know how in the movies when they use cinematic effects on climaxes or ends of scenes; it was a lot like that. In reality, I think I was just fainting lmao (Hey, I can laugh about it now lol)
In that very moment, the very few precious moments I held on to for strength and comfort throughout my life had seemed soo fn pointless and irrelevant. I clicked on the entry and viewed the information they charged me with.
My life was over. Literally in that fn moment it was all over. October 16th, 2013
The State charged me with 6 Felonies; 5 class Ds and 1 class C. My bond was set at $50,000 with a 10% allowance.
If what I learned of law was correct, I was looking at a total of 36 years in prison. I would have never expected them to charge me with all of that. I was god damn shocked. All I remember thinking was, "wtf". Resisting the urge to breakdown on the floor crying again, I look over to my co-worker (and one of my very best friends to this day) and say, "it's filed". I get up, walk to my boss's office, she turns to me and I say, "they filed it. I gotta go."
(I believe it was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon when all this went down and I knew I needed to get to the bank before they closed.)
She said, "Ok" She hugged me and I left.
I called my Gram to tell her that it had been filed and that I had to withdrawal the emergency fund she had put in there for this day. If it hadn't been for her I would've had to sit in jail for god knows how long. If it hadn't been for her I would've had to use the public defender the court assigned to me.
Having worked in the legal field, I saw just how uninterested those public defenders are.. I didn't even ask her to do it. I never once asked her for money. Not once have I ever asked her for anything.
She just did it. All I can remember her saying is, "I will not allow my granddaughter to sit in jail over this.". And fuck was I thankful for her. I mean, I was a complete and utter fucking emotional mess.
Alright, I digress. I get to the bank and go inside to withdrawal my $5k for my bond.
I walk up to the teller and I hand her my withdrawal slip. I remember that teller starring right into my eyes, points to a sign on the wall behind her and says "we require you to request anything over $1,500 at least 72 hours prior to withdrawal." I closed my eyes, took a deep breathe (trying not to bawl and lose my shit at this teller) and I say, "I understand that but this is an emergency. Please let me withdraw my money that's in my account". She replies, "I'm sorry, I can't. It's against our policy."
I don't remember exactly what happened next lol but I did in fact, lose my shit. I don't remember when the branch manager came out either, but that bitch has been at that bank and knows my grandmother for the last 30-35 fn years. All I really remember saying (or more like bawling, begging, pleading, yelling) was that I was going to be arrested and if you don't give me my money, they are going to come to my house and arrest me in front of my children and I won't be able to get out.
Man, was that a humbling experience for me. To say the words out loud.. to someone else.. to a stranger.. Because I cared so much as to what others thought of me, I almost didn't say anything because I didn't want anyone to know. It was fn embarrassing. I was fn ashamed and angry and hurt and disgusted. I was every emotion at one time.. The whole foundation of loyalty and honesty that I embodied and lived by was being attacked from all sides; and I was god damn devastated.
AND I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING WRONG TO BEGIN WITH. God, that was absolutely the worst part of all it for me.
I was always getting accused of not being honest or loyal or trustworthy. My intentions have always been questioned. Always. It's been a trigger for me since I can remember.
Read "Standing Firm in your Truths"
So, yea, there I was. I felt like I was literally naked standing in front of those woman. I've never been so dependent on someone in my entire life.. And there I was, figuratively naked, alone, and terrified asf; standing broken in the middle of my bank's lobby. My face covered in my own despair and snot; appearing as though I was a deer in head lights.
After a moment of silence, the branch manager moved quickly through the door separating the lobby and the teller. She looked over the counter and with a small reassuring smile she said, "It's okay. We're going to get you your money."
I remember, almost immediately, my shoulders released in relief and I felt like I could finally breathe again. They just stared at me. lol. Probably not sure if I was going to cause another scene or pass out. Either way, I was grateful and I thanked them.
I even caught myself trying to apologize for my behavior. I mean, how dare I allow myself to become that problematic, right. LMAO. Yea, no. I decided right then and there that I will NEVER be apologetic for how I was feeling or how this is affecting me.
Unless you're facing 36 years in prison for something so fn unfair, unjust and downright vindictive - You have no right to come at me. You have no right to tell me how to feel. You have absolutely no fn idea what I've been through over this fn bullshit.
Ugh, ok. Again, I digress. That part still seems to really upset me. Even rereading it 8 years later. The pain of the hurt is a lot. I can't imagine doing something like this to someone. I wouldn't inflict my worst enemy with that kind of pain. I still don't know how to describe it.
Alright. I get back to my house and walk through the garage overhead door to put my wad of cash in the freezer. My husband at the time was sitting in his chair smoking.
I look over at him and say, "This is my bond money. It's right here, in case I need you to bring it to me or whatever."
He replies with, "Ok, but I don't have gas to get to work tomorrow or cigarettes. What am I supposed to do about that?"
I just stared at him in disbelief. I just wanted to say, "How did you wipe your ass this morning, you fn douche bag?"
At this point, we didn't have any money. He spent more than he made and I was already working a full-time job, part-time transcribing, and part-time fitness classes.
(We lived in a tiny two bedroom rental our entire relationship. I think the five of us were there for almost 8 years. Nothing ever changed or progressed or moved forward. I had been stuck in one fn spot for the last 8 years with no fn end in site. He ended up staying in that rental for the next few years until he married someone who bought a house. And at this point, I had already told him that I didn't want to be with him anymore back in July of that year.)
I handed him my almost maxed out credit card and walked away. I went inside to greet my kids like it was the last time I would ever see them. It seems silly now but I didn't know what was going to happen to me.
I hear my husband leave to go get his gas and cigarettes. All I could think about is how badly I needed to sit down. I knew I had to teach a fitness class in about an hour; but all I could think about was going outside for a smoke.
So, I sat there. In that chair, contemplating not going to class. I did not want to be around people. I couldn't even stop crying long enough to have a normal conversation about the weather. I could barely function most days, let alone complete normal daily tasks.
I just sat there, staring out in front of me, occasionally taking a drag from my cigarette. I hadn't thrown up today so that was good, I remember thinking. And then out of nowhere, I heard it. It was a voice. Maybe my own, idk.
But it said, "go to class".
I sat up from my once slumped position to look around. No one was there. No one was around me. I didn't see any little kids present or animals or anything.
I put my cigarette out and got ready to go teach my class. lol
All I know, is that while I was at class, the police came to my house to arrest me in front of my kids and I wasn't there for it to happen.
My husband told the Sheriffs where I was and that I would turn myself in after my class was over...
That's the day I began to believe in myself and manifesting became a real part of my life.
I think that's enough for this one day..
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