Velvet, I just read your last response. Funny, I thought about starting a new thread but decided against it. Partly because, as you said, it brings one the memories of how much has happened/changed and how much one has endured, etc. So I decided to stick with this one.
First off, I am literally so exhausted that many days, I wish I would not wake up anymore. It is three months now since I was evicted with only 40 hours notice and since then … war is hell they say; life should not be … but then, I no longer consider “this” life, only existence and “survival” but for what? More of the same?
After I was thrown out, only some of my things were put into storage (per the order). My car was constantly overheating due to a failing water pump, but I was afraid to change it then (plus didn’t have $$ for new part) because if it was harder than I thought, I would be completely without transportation.
I went down (that house is 40 miles from the reasonably sized city I moved to) and supposedly, a couple in-laws were going to be there so I could get some of my things … they left many (probably most of what was useful/valuable) in the basement. Nobody was there.
So Monday, I went back and the brother agreed to meet and “supervise” although he made me come an hour later than I
wanted to. At noon, he said he was taking a “lunch break”. That lasted until 4pm; I was not able to get anything done during that time … just sit around and cool my heels. So I got a few more hours done, was able to get help from one person bringing things up from the basement for a while (I called many, many churches hoping to find some help). He took off, ostensibly to find out where “the others” were and I never heard from him again.
The next day, I was late getting down there due to overheating problems. I had a couple hours bringing things up from the basement; the previous day I had been allowed to load the truck with whatever I had brought up to the driveway, even after he had left. So I tried to bring up the most valuable things and personal papers,etc. There was a dumpster in the driveway; the day before, I had found many of my personal papers and even new things (mine) trashed in the dumpster. I had retrieved what I could and hoped to check for more after I was done bringing things up.I had also called the police department because I anticipated trouble; the brother had snatched our daughters years before, when they were 5 and 6, precipitating (undiagnosed for 5 years) panic attacks in me and helping his brother (CG) who filed divorce promptly after.
At noon, out of nowhere, the brother ordered me off the property. I did not have the truck, I had parked it at the nearby lot from which I’d rented it as I could not afford to drive it back and forth. I was going to get it after I was done bringing things up … and the brother knew it. He had asked where it was earlier and I’d told him I couldn’t afford mileage charges. He watched me go up and down the stairs hauling my possessions up, knowing I was not going to be “allowed” to take anything that day and would have incurred extra charges for the truck, having kept it the extra day.
We’d been forced to take our cats to a neighbors when I was evicted … one was hit by a car and one we had not been able to find when I had to leave. It was next door at CG and brother’s mother’s house; brother had told me he would get her when I was leaving. I did not get her back, either. It was all lies.
The other brother has a business selling things on-line and I had started selling books on-line when CG had a heart attack about 5 years ago. I had purchased more books with salable valuable since the divorce and had other new items, etc that were stored in the basement. So I am guessing that is where my personal possessions were destined … as more profit and another “take that” to me.
I called the police officer I’d spoken to before and pointed out the order didn’t have a time, etc. He called the brother, then called me back, telling me the brother was “being an a**hole”, “playing games” and he was sorry for what I was going through, but he couldn’t do anything. I went to the Court then (twenty miles) and wrote out a plea and complaint for my possessions and cat. I just learned the other day that the (foreclosure attorney, also representing brother) items were considered “abandoned” by me on motion of brother’s attorney. I can’t think too hard about it all because I will cry.
I haven’t been able to get a job, yet, either between dealing with having things in two storages (plus fees) and having to stay with daughter (which resulted in my sleeping in my car several nights as well) and having her own anxiety issues come to a head several times, revealing her lack of trust in just about everyone (I feel the same sometimes). No credit, no money and no place to move the things in storage.
So I had to collect more cans and stuff to supplement my disability check. Somewhere along the way, I was bitten by a tick and got some sort of infection. I didn’t know there was a tick on me, I started feeling pain on my abdomen one night and thought I had a rash coming on but couldn’t see anything. It hurt the next day and I had a closer look; I saw a round circular red area I took to be a scab and showed it to my daughter. “Mom, that’s not a scab, that’s a tick,” she told me before removing it as well as she could. I went to the urgent care and was given an initial dose of antibiotics and the rest of the mouthpiece was removed. Pretty much the costs negated many of my collected cans; had I not been collecting them, I doubt I’d have gotten the tick.
We received some help to get into the place we have moved to (my younger daughter and me) or I have no idea what we would be doing … it’s cold as heck already and I have been forced to get more cans to come up with my share of the rent.
Last week, I went to use my debit card and it was turned down, even though I had just transferred money. When several more attempts had the same results, I went to the ATM, which said my account was overdrawn about $200. I called the bank and was told my account had been garnished. I have only disability income and that isn’t supposed to happen, except for a very few exceptions which I knew weren’t the case. The bank was closed when I called (on a Friday evening I was hit with all this); I was able to find a branch open on Saturday. The manger was very nice, but told me I need to go get a Court order about my account to give to the legal department.
I can’t even find a case with garnishment (civil collection) on the on-line docket in which I haven’t met with the involved attorney and explained and told them I would get in touch when I have a job. And to get a job … I NEED some peace and sanity. I have to either keep paying on storage or lose what little I have left … and on the one storage, I was not able to pay for November, it is now December and right now, I have only $6 to last me for the next 16 days. $107 is due in about a week for car insurance …
and the day before that, one of my molars broke off, leaving a sharp edge(s) that is gouging my tongue, making it not only difficult to eat, but I have been getting pain on swallowing and near my ear on that side … I have no dental insurance, so I guess I have to wait until it really becomes a medical concern. I used to grind my teeth when I was asleep and this apparently became quite a habit when all this divorce and terrorization started up, years ago. Just another wonderful effect of being the unwitting spouse of CG, I guess. I keep wondering what type of employer will hire me with all the holes in my mouth I am getting … this is the third tooth that has broken partially, it has been “grin and bearit” because I have had no choice.
I still have heard nothing back from Gam-Anon and there is basically no support. Even though I still go to therapy, it feels like an exercise in futility. I haven’t done anything wrong and I can only see that I am being punished and deprived of choices, freedom, possession, peace of mind, health and being forced to pretty much watch as my life is stripped away, while the CG and relatives are rewarded, with my possessions and Court award, as well as unearned automatic equity … and nobody here gives a darn. Occasionally, I’ve thought that MAYBE, just MAYBE, someone would take the injustice seriously and have the power to do something or publicize it. I feel completely invisible and as though really, I don’t “exist” except for the nearly constant (though I am grateful for the periods where it ebbs for a while) pain in my mouth, as well as the pain in my feet from toxic neuropathy, the apparently permanent result of having to take medications I never needed, having been misdiagnosed for years, from the machinations of the CG and his mother, who was quite active in supporting her CG son’s fraud.
I can feel myself going into and out of emotional shock, too. I know that and the fatigue are dangerous, as despite even KNOWING I have to, I’m too exhausted and without hope to even force myself sometimes. I’ve done nothing wrong, and the CG has accomplished his goals, the cruel relatives who’ve helped him in past and currently are profiting from me directly and I don’t even have a say in Court about matters that have basically stripped the last 20 years of effort and accomplishments from me and even worse, destroyed me financially to the point where I end up often having weeks out of the month with no money for gas, minutes for phone service or other necessities.
I guess the worst part though is that I have no idea what God expects me to do with or about the situation. I find myself crying a lot, because there seems to be no answer and no way out … just pain and everyone else having rights … while I am supposed to “accept” and “get on with my life”. My life ended quite a while ago, unfortunately, my physical existence didn’t.
I don’t mean to sound so … whatever. But that is basically what I have been experiencing on the outside … and more lately, on the inside as my last hopes for fairness in the Court (per the law of “equitable settlement” in divorce) have been dashed and even the possessions I earned, or things like the sewing machine I was given as a birthday gift when I was 9 years old, have been taken from me as booty for the greedy … sick … or whatever. At this point, I would just call them evil. THAT is how I feel.