Go BYU!
So fully of integrity. Making sure you double dip on what you charge.
Yes, I know you are watching. Analytics expose your stalking.
So I'm posting just for you this time.
The True Christians that you are.
Now who is that is actually the stalker? Or is it an exploiter?
Quit watching me and quit attacking me and then doing whatever it is you are doing with the Judge to get him to demand that I pay you for it.
It's psychotic.
And gross.
If I stop fighting this battle then what?
What do I have left to work with?
So many holes and voids from lost relationships, lost opportunities and lost potential.
But many of those opportunities, relationships and potential were not lost rather taken from me through defamation from accreditation.
If I quit fighting, then what? What is left of me after all of this?
Disability? and Disdain for it?
fatigue and failure?
Failure to prove my value as a human?
Or
All the failures of the "systems" and "institutions"
Of checks and balances
That are supposed to protect
equally
and the vulnerable especially, but not actually.
Anger.
I am left with Anger and Pain.
I am left with degradation and knowledge of incompetence being practiced at the highest levels to the detriment of the most vulnerable and most easily exploited. The Least of These.
Left knowing that he is still practicing with patients he can so easily exploit and they are allowing it and covering for him.
Or they told him and have directed him to lie and he is a victim himself- doubtful though, too much the victim played and preyed on by him.
He can and will lie to your face, but you cannot be mad because he did warn you in his cryptic and not so cryptic ways, he warned you that he would not admit to anything that might expose who he really is and what he is really up to.
Even if you catch him in the lies, the title and prestige they will not compromise
for the likes of you.
And Cortney watches with her henchman Sean, because she is pathetic and so is he. and because they thrive on the knowing they are causing pain. They thrive on knowing that they can keep the pain caused by others going indefinitely. Mercilessly.
Enjoy the publishing of anything about you -you narcissistic sadists. Then pretend like you have never read this in your pathetic attempt to deny me the satisfaction of knowing that you are paying attention to the likes of me; A satisfaction that is your own fabrication, not mine.
Keep on working to fill your life and lips with injections of products that are as fake and toxic as you are.
Keep working to crush the already crushed so you can fool people into believing the radiance reflected off of their crushed pieces are somehow reflective of your own brilliance. But you and I both know you are a mere Fabrication of Illumination. At least that is an Impressive feat for the Obsolete, I'll give you that.
Pretend. Or threaten and use it to show and say "see she's.." whatever you say to twist things your way in the moment of that day, -BYU sticker proud of your clearly defined deceit and conceit.
Keep on reading you leach
POS.
Not where I wanted to go with this today, but frankly, you were never invited -so leave. Don't you know the cool kids don't hang out here. Be gone you fascist fool, go stomp and clomp in your trying too hard heals with your Scabie Stooge Sean right at them.
Or stay and keep coming back to flatter me. But since I am being honest, I will admit, you are not a flattering audience.
It's not my thing
and it's not my scene.
But my body has changed and I am getting older.
Running does not work the same anymore, yet I still need the exercise. I also need to strengthen my core to accommodate for
the lower back injury that now objects to many things I used to enjoy, like running and sleeping on the ground in a tent.
So Gym seems like a good idea.
We have a week free, to try it out. I went once with spouse and son and it was surprisingly fun not that bad. I liked the versatility of the activities I could do, my core seems to approve, and my energy and focus felt better upon returning home from the outing.
Today son is working and spouse is snowmobiling. I have way too much to do on the legal end, but am feeling overwhelmed. So I think Gym would be a good new friend to start my day with. ...
... But somehow, all dressed up with somewhere to go, movement starts to become rather slow. I give myself the pep talk and encouragement I seem to need,.. But instead of my feet moving towards the door, tears start to flow and I find myself frozen as I stare at my exit trying muster the strength and courage to leave. I don't understand why this is hard for me and why tears are streaming down my face in response to my desire to go to the gym.
It's almost as if all my recent efforts to improve myself and society have been fraught with frustration and degradation.
Maybe that is all it is.
And I am afraid
To leave my house
and leave it alone
to try and improve the quality of me alone
in an environment that is new
but supposed to be something and somewhere built for the masses for the purpose of improving ones health...
ahh
now there it is.
blogging it out proving productive -or is it seductive- again as a few last stray tears find there way out of the mayhem inside that will forever be pressing for resolution and solution
Now...
Do I stay or do I go?
Go.
and hope for the best. as always I guess.
Except that now I am exhausted again
and tilting;
my eyes pressuring me to close
...
...
Originally published on 2/3/24 at 9:52 am
Now it 12:13 and I am back from the Gym.
It is very strange how the universe works at times for a person who rarely runs into people she knows.
As I walked the track to cool down I noticed a grey haired man shooting hoops who seemed familiar. He looked a lot my previous physical therapist. The one who had pointed out that I reminded him of his friend Jan Broberg, partly because I was behaving like someone whom had been groomed to protect their groomer. He was the physical therapist I saw after the ankle surgery that occurred amidst the ongoing malpractice, when I was mess after being "terminated" by Dr. P but still being treated by Dr. R at the same Neurosciences Institute that was denying the mania and then failing to refer so I could get appropriate care and diagnosis.
I had talked with this therapist and cried to him quite a bit about the situation I was trying to understand when I was both his patient and theirs. He was the therapist who had asked, "what's the worst possible outcome," in regards to the scenario I could not then fully comprehend or accept.
"That he's a grooming psychologist and I have to stop him," was the automatic instinctive answer I provided to him then.
As it turns out, the grey haired man shooting hoops was precisely that physical therapist. He still remembers who I am and he was curious to know if anything was ever resolved.
What an odd coincidence.
Or does God still work in mysterious ways?
Today, while we waited for my sons turn to virtually speak with the Judge in the 1st District Court, we had to wait for a hearing impaired lady, we'll call hear Ms. H, who was called to address the Court ahead of my son. It was very hard to witness as the interpreter, county prosecuting attorney, and Court tried to figure out how to effectively communicate via small virtual boxes that were broadcasting each person from entirely separate locations and when Ms. H could not see well enough what was being signed due to the limitations and complications of the virtual court environment.
It took far longer than it would have if they had all been present in the same room so it was a bit hard not to be annoyed with the 1st District for this shortsightedness. But at least the Judge and prosecuting attorney were patient with Ms. H, the interpretter, and the circumstances.
After they got all the kinks worked out well enough that communication was seeming effective, Ms. H asked for extra time to pay her $150.00 fine. It hurt my heart when she explained she was not sure if she could pay it by February because she was currently unemployed and actively searching. It hurt my heart because I know far too intimately now how discriminating people really are against differently abled people and with a disability like that it is even harder to find a job and fair pay. Although she is likely and hopefully receiving some form of SSI, I also know from family members and friends who have had to rely on SSI for disability, it really is not enough to pay for anything extra like this and I just kept hoping the prosecuting attorney and Judge would knock more of the fine off for her.
Alas, they did not.
HOWEVER
A man, we'll call him Mr. T, who was also waiting to speak with the Judge asked if he could just pay it off for her. At first we, the audience, were not sure if he was just feeling impatient with how long it was taking or if he was genuinely wanting to help this lady out the way my heart wanted to (-but cannot because my extra money has to now go to IHC's own attorneys because they are very effective at misrepresenting things and especially me and my own assigned Court buys in)-. The Court initially seemed to be ignoring Mr. T, but as he persisted, it became obvious that his intention was honest and made out of compassion. Still the Court had not acknowledged his offer and considering how the 3rd District Court has treated me in regards to disability related issues, I was genuinely fearful the 1st District Court might chastise this man for speaking out of turn AND somehow take it out on Ms. H.
But alas, THEY DID NOT.
Finally, having worked out the kinks of communication, the Court acknowledge Mr. T as a "good Samaritan" offering to pay and asked Ms. H if she would be willing to accept the offer. She asked, "can I pay you back?"
To which Mr. T simply answered, "no."
The interpreter explained that it was not a loan but a gift and Ms. H graciously accepted.
Of course the Judge called Mr. T's case next and even announced, in a playful way, that if any of the rest of us waiting wanted to move our own cases up in the line, we could make a good Samaritan offer. The country prosecuting attorney also jumped on the bandwagon of good deeds and reduced Mr. T's own fine to zero dollars. He still got the reduced speeding charge but no fine.
What a nice change. And what a breath of fresh air.
But the fresh air did not even end there.
When it was my son's turn, neither my husband nor I got chastised or accused of "practicing law without a license" for assisting my son with speaking. Nor did we get told answering our questions would be giving legal advice. In fact, the Court actually offered to assist and told us how and what my son needed to do for the discovery process AND the County prosecuting attorney even offered his assistance with that. No guessing or chastising for not knowing, no degradation for even asking. It was a good thing my husband was here to encourage my son to ask, because, after all we have been through with that same District and in my case in the 3rd District, he was terrified to ask or say anything.
Speaking of terrified, you should have seen both my son's and husband's reactions when I attempted to respond to Mr. T, via side chat, to let him know he should be able to pay that to the court, without the Judge's permission or approval, with just Ms. H's name. While waiting, unknowing if the Court would respond to or acknowledge Mr. T's offer, and wanting to try and prevent him from being chastised, I wanted so badly to make sure Mr. T knew how he could follow through with his offer of help. I also wanted to thank Mr. T for his acknowledgement of Ms. H's hardship and his compassion as teared welled, But alas my own dear family has been so scarred now by the courts' reactions to me in regards to my own disabilities that the fear of involvement was understandably too high and I had to refrain for their sakes. Tears welled even more knowing this.
Stark Contrast.
At least some faith in humanity and our courts in general have been restored for a moment.
Jumping through everyones hoops
only to find the hoop is a lie
into an abyss of lies
that drowns humanity, civility, justice and truth.
Hoops of Lies
aka
Our Judicial System
Bipolar?
TBI?
Welcome to the Land of the Least of These.
