Jackie S! Please stop telling me on various sites that you want to talk to me. I can only assume it’s about Kim and about forgiving her and being friends with her again. It took some time, but I have forgiven her. However, that doesn’t mean I wish to resume our “friendship.” So with all due respect, I wish you both the best, but please back off. :) There are millions of other fish in the sea. No need to waste time on boring people like me. :)

Got a box of Russell Stover assorted chocolates and OMG! They are SO good. Expensive, but good. Tom hates anything with fruits and nuts in it, so he’s having the truffles. His favorite is vanilla and mine is caramel. I love maple, too.

I gotta work out after I’ve gotten hungry enough to get some real food into me, even though I’m totally not in the mood to. I read and listen to music while I work out and it helps make it go a little faster. I have to work my arms and abs, too. The better shape you get in, the longer you have to work out, so that means I have to throw myself on the floor and do 10 minutes of ab crunching before I really start feeling the burn.

Later…

Took a shower a while ago and ugh! Someone needs to tell that bastard up the hill, NO MORE FUCKING BLEACH, YA HEAR? NO MORE!!! This isn’t Phoenix, Arizona and this isn’t a fucking swimming pool either! Now I have to stink all night long no matter how much perfume I wear or incense I burn. Yes, yes, yes, I am TOTALLY ready for what I DON’T want! I’ll take another old single-wide to have normal tap water, cable Internet, and all those little things we’ve been missing and having to do without for so long, that so many people take for granted.

After we leave then the bastard can overload the water tanks with bleach all he wants. He can even add it to his coffee if he doesn’t already do so. How can his mutts stand to drink this shit? Can’t imagine living here without bottled water.

Old enemies popped into mind while I was taking my bleach shower and I felt myself tense up with that old familiar rage. I realize that whether or not you can forgive someone who has victimized you in whatever way, you can never forget. It’s just never going to be anything I can look back on and shrug nonchalantly and say, “It’s ok. Shit happens to everyone at some point.”

Yeah, shit happens to the best of us, but it’s NOT ok. Never has been, never will be. I know what they did can never be undone. Not even if they gave me a heartfelt apology and handed me a million-dollar check, and not that they’d ever do such a thing. I don’t have to be a mind reader to know that they truly believe in their minds that what they did was ok. In all actuality, though, it was no better than anyone else who does something vengeful out of spite. The only difference is that they “got me” through the law, and sadly, what they did was legal and the part of it that wasn’t legal was covered up and swept under the carpet. Swept so deeply under it that no one can ever do a damn thing about it. Even if someone were willing to reexamine the “evidence,” it’s gone now. I read that all evidence is destroyed in cases after 7 years unless it was used in a violent crime. They may have pictures stored digitally or something like that, but any altered journal excerpts or threatening letters either typed up by them or sent to them by someone else would probably be long gone by now.

Not even months of therapy – that they ironically ordered – could help snuff much of the anger their abuse, railroading, manipulating, and shafting that I experienced on account of them caused. You learn to live with it, but it isn’t always easy. Just like a rape victim never forgets the horrible experience she went through or someone who watched someone be brutally murdered, there are those that play the victim and then there are the true victims. The true victims never forget. The anger, anxiety, and bad memories live on.

It shames and embarrasses me to say so, but I was terrified to try to legally fight them off and expose them for what they’d done once I realized what had transpired, which to their benefit, was too late. They also withheld valuable info that could’ve been a great service to me and a great disservice to them, but there was no way to prove it. So for me, it was a case of A, not being able to prove some things, and B, not being able to get anyone with the power to help me that gave a damn. Especially in a state that favors minorities. No matter how much you insist it was about their actions and not their color, people just don’t want to hear it.

But I find it therapeutic to write about these feelings and experiences even if I’ve already done so a million times, again, ironically recommended by the therapist that THEY caused me to see. What I mean by “they” is everyone who had a hand in screwing me. The “victim” and all the other corruptos within the system. The only ones in the system that felt bad for me were the detention officers I would encounter in jail. I actually miss some of them at times and wonder how they are these days.

After I was vindicated and the “cop” eventually changed professions after what was no doubt God only knows how many complaints, I was terrified of the thought of them coming after me. Clearly, they were obsessed with me, and I knew my vindication had to really piss the hell out of them. They were part of why we left the state. Not just because of what the state did to me, the barbaric laws/sentences, and the treatment of non-minorities, but because I felt like such a sitting duck. So when Tom lost his job and we lost our house, I saw that as an opportunity to escape their radar. I was terrified for a while to even so much as dare write about them in a paper journal that wasn’t online.

Then one day I realized I was letting them win by being afraid to speak my mind, and that I no longer wanted to hide like a coward. I had been their victim long enough and I wasn’t about to let the aftermath of their destruction continue to victimize me from afar. The memories were enough. As long as I wasn’t making any threats or posting any sensitive info, I had every right to express myself online in a blog that was public same as anyone else in the world, and I knew it. I don’t make any attempts to hide. Anyone with the proper know-how and determination could find me. They could be reading this right now, but if they are they would cower in the shadows and not make it obvious, and they would do so not because they were curious as to what I may say about them, but what they could “get” me for.

Now don’t get me wrong. The thought of them coming after me and harming me is still a very real and scary possibility. It’s very unlikely but I don’t rule it out. Instead, I made myself a promise – that if I lived through whatever they did to me I would see to it that they ended up with less than a potty to pee in. THIS time I would fight back and THIS time the system would work in MY favor. They would put an awful lot of money in my pocket while they put themselves in an awful lot of trouble. THIS time I could buy the house of my dreams in nearly every country on the planet while they got to experience a helluva lot more cold showers, bland food, lost sleep, and emotional trauma than I ever did.

I love the idea of being filthy rich, but still… I hope I am never forced to keep that promise. A promise that doesn’t just apply personally to them, but to anyone who may have bad intentions in mind.

Later…

I was reading about this woman who hit some newspaper with a libel suit. She lost, not surprisingly, since most reporters are slick. They print the lies they know can’t be disproven. Sometimes it’s lies they make up on their own for “entertainment” purposes, and other times they take the word of those they’re interviewing that are bullshitting them, checking to make sure that whatever they were told can’t be proven to be the pure bullshit that it is. That’s why I’m not afraid to use first names in my blog, besides the fact that I haven’t found any law yet that says I can’t. If these people can get paid to libel people using their full names, I’m not the least bit worried about stating facts, thoughts, beliefs and opinions on a first-name basis for something I don’t profit from and that’s not threatening or providing one’s sensitive info or anything like that.

Anyway, do I think this woman was slandered and libeled? Probably. It happens quite a bit, unfortunately. I was both stunned and appalled one time when I came across a site several years ago that briefly mentioned those involved in hate crimes.

“How many more people have to die?” screamed the headline in big bold letters.

Then I spotted my name and was like, whoa, wait a minute here! Who the hell died in my case?!?! Also, I was NOT charged with a hate crime. Never have been, never will be. Just thought I’d set the record straight and give you the facts because others are going to print what they want.

I swear, though, some people make their own haters. Yeah, some people will automatically hate people for no reason at all. But sometimes we make our own haters whether we like it or not just with our actions and behavior. Did anyone ever think of that? That sometimes it’s not about where you’re from or what you look like (that was never what it was about for me) but because of the way you act and the way you treat others. So no, I don’t like the people responsible for slandering, libeling, and railroading me in the name of hate and revenge one tiny bit.

But as much as I wish to hell I could undergo a lie detector test and have the results posted on national TV, I really, seriously never did 99% of what I was accused of doing way back when. I swear. I also wish they would make lie detector tests mandatory in most cases because from what I heard they’re pretty damn near impossible to beat.