It was starting to get hot even at 10am as I sat at Stewarts and thought of being up to the Sacandaga Lake. I liked sitting outside at the new outdoor patio now and could get a toasted bagel and cream cheese and some hard-boiled eggs. I was getting stronger and felt good that my body was starting to feel like my own again after the seizure I had and all the trauma from the arrests, evictions, and constant assaults plus the ongoing symptoms of Menopause I was constantly dealing with. My body hadn't felt like my own in a while. Some alien had moved in and she had her own idea about how things should go.
I had prepared myself in my 40s by reading and working out all the time. I wanted to stay active to be able to live the life I had wanted; boating, running, and skiing, but that all came apart when the nightmare of my Divorce started. At a time when I needed to be the sharpest I had ever needed to be, I found myself needing to sleep all the time, would often go blank from the anxiety and stress, and just could not put things together as quickly as I used to be able to. I was good at juggling things, but would often have "brain fog." This was common in Menopause I read and I was horrified that my ex told me that I would be in Menopause and would have problems and no one would want me. I know now he had it planned for that time as it would make it harder for me to deal with things. He had older parents and his mother had many sisters, so he had some idea about Menopause and the problems associated with it.
I had built a career and was starting a business I loved, a dream come true of my own Art Studio and I was managing the Lake home with my ex and also the properties we were taking on as a rental business. I was looking forward to finally setting my own schedule and not punching a clock. I was getting tired of commuting, I had done it for the past 20yrs and was looking forward to not having to do it in the winter anymore. All these plans were brutally torn apart leaving me struggling to understand how all this could happen and how so many people had hated me so much they could have planned such a nightmare over such a long period of time.
I felt a sadness that's been harder to bear lately—that of never going up to the Lakehouse again. I had worked so hard to make the place a home we could retire to. I had recently been collecting wax and candle items at garage sales to make candles. One of my mother's boyfriends and I had made them when I was a teen. I loved the Yankee Candle ones, but so much wax was wasted in the bottom that I started collecting it and knew I could make candles from it. I was collecting Oil Lamps and other kinds of solar lamps to have on hand in case of emergencies but also because I had become so economical that I was amazed at the savings. I was also taking my ex back and forth to the hospital all the time for surgeries and to check his pressure—he had Glaucoma. There had always been concerns he would continually lose more sight, but it had been a real concern with the new surgeries he was having. He was regularly assuring me our plans were still to retire at the Lakehouse we had worked on all these years and we were going over retirement plans all the time even though he was making fun of things like my candle collecting.
I had buried my MIL as difficult as she had been and I had felt a sense of accomplishment. I had taken care of her all these years and I was looking forward to all the promises she made about leaving us her home so we would have rental income in our retirement. She had been extremely demanding over the years, but I never once was not there for her. I thought of her as old school and I looked at it as learning to get along with her to make my marriage work. I thought we mostly did even though she could be very strict about how she thought things should be.
I was not given any gifts or cards for Christmas, my birthday and other holidays were not acknowledged. At the end of the marriage my MIL and her sister gave me one of those cards that I had always wanted, you know the ones that are so lovely, and say to my Daughter-n-law. They were expensive and usually cost about $4.00, which was why I never complained, having been promised her home was more than enough. I was not the spoiled type and was far more grateful for that gift rather than gifts and jewelry all those years. I was to see at the end that I had more than earned her home. It was elegant back in the day, but I had been young. It was only a modest 2-family that now wasn't worth all that much. I had given eldercare to a blind woman for close to 30yrs and she had been using my money, labor, and time all along. I was to learn she had also participated in the deception and when we helped her clean out her things from her home when she went into the nursing home in her 80s, my ex tossed me a roll of wedding pictures still in the packet from the developer. It was hurtful and shook me, but I still didn't know the extent of their deception. Why didn't she put them into an album? Even a cheap one at the dollar store would have been fine. I had gotten nothing else from her and by that point, I wasn't waiting on her in my home for holidays as I had done for the past 20yrs, but continued to visit her at the Nursing home.
Christmas was like a "Toys R Us" for my inlaws children because they got so much. My ex and I were expected to always buy what they wanted and usually was the American Girl Dolls, which were often hard to get as they had to have the latest ones. We would spend months stressing over getting these dolls. One year when digital cameras first came out we got each of them one of those. I never got any gifts or even a Thank you note from them. I didn't make a fuss but had grown increasingly upset over why they never called me Aunt. When I finally expressed my concern, I was told they were spoiled and it was no big deal. My BIL could laugh in a dismissive way as if what I was saying was so silly it didn't matter and whatever you were talking about with him would end. I know now this was all done on purpose. It was extremely hurtful to know the girls were taught at a young age that I was not to be acknowledged. They were toddlers when I met my ex.
It was always acknowledged her house would become part of our rental business and we would have that. My SIL had her as a constant babysitter and my MIL had her children all the time. It was difficult and my ex was there all the time. I was often alone as he had to go to her house all the time to make sure everything was done. I was still at work most days, not arriving from Albany NY until after 6pm. He would leave work at 3pm and be at her home until I came home. I would make him dinner and go to the gym in the early days until he went on the 2nd shift. His mother was always a constant companion or we had to concern ourselves with what she needed; Doctor visits, items at the stores, repairs for the house. The work and care for her were constant. We argued about it often, but I was always assured that all the difficulty was worth it not only because "Family comes first" he would say, but because the rental income would help us retire early.
I knew as things got harder in Corporate America Art jobs would get harder. Graphic Design was a young person's career and as much as I loved it the computer skills changed quickly. It was hard enough to have an Art job in my small Upstate NY community and at 50yrs old, I could see where it would get harder plus the commute I was doing was difficult with the older cars I always had. When I started to get more promotions and raises I bought a new car and it became easier but using sick days for snow days wasn't being allowed like it was. Everyone had an SUV now and it was expected that even with snowstorms you had to be at work. Having everything paid for by then and working a less stressful job was the plan, something part-time in the community was my idea of retirement. I had liked working at Macy's after college and thought a part-time job at Marshall's would be fun after the demands of a full-time job. I was also constantly studying computer skills, doing some IT and it was becoming exhausting. I didn't see myself doing that in a Corporate setting later in life. I had dreamed of my own art studio. I was constantly assured this was the plan and in the end, had my whole Art studio set up and was getting clients. I also had everything set up online, but none of it was to be.
I missed the Sacandaga Lake like you miss a very dear friend. I had told my ex how my Father had brought me up to the Lake camping as a little girl and how he had a band and used to play around the lake. I loved the lake. I also told him the story of how my Grandmother had lost the land she had up there and it had been devastating. There had been so much history that I could not have imagined none of this had mattered to anyone that was involved in setting me up to make sure I was never going to retire up to the lake also. My Father had been forced to leave and my Grandmother after the land was sold never talked to her family again over how brutal it was all done. Learning her sister was involved was just more confirmation of the filth of it all.
"She didn't help you either, did she?" my mother sneered. I had no idea at the time what she meant. I hadn't seen my Great Aunt since my wedding and had no idea why I had asked her to visit but she never did. She came to my Grandmother's funeral and after the bad blood between her and my Grandmother I extended the invitation and also after that around Holidays, but I never heard from her again. She passed recently and it was another relationship that I had no closure with. Her children, my cousins have had RVs in the same Campsite down the road from my Lakehouse all these years and I never knew until recently. I met one of the male cousin's ex-girlfriends that I had recently been working with at a Physicians Association as a Communication Manager. She bragged about how wealthy they were, "do you remember the horses?" she had said. I had gone with my Grandmother a couple of times when her sister had borrowed money, but things were always tense. It was hard for my Grandmother to talk about "the Land" or her siblings. My Grandmother always had so little, but they were all wealthy. I had no idea this Aunt was involved in my personal business also after making it obvious she didn't want to see me either. Having my Mother confirm this was strange at the time and even more disturbing now.
I headed down to the river. I had been there once recently and it was okay, but the place seemed to already be falling apart; broken steps, chipping paint, and weeds were everywhere, but I thought maybe I was too upset about not being able to go up to the Sacandaga Lake and I would give it another chance. I thought of having to drag my suitcase with me and it was a concern but I was getting stronger and thought I would be able to do it after a day relaxing in the sun. I took off positive and happy that I could have a nice day and come up with something else to do without transportation here. I had heard that now the local beach in Fulton County anyone could go to. It used to be just residents and I could never understand why, but that was also a possibility for a place to go swimming this summer.
As I crossed the bridge they came forcefully walking right at me. I hadn't seen them since I had been assaulted by their son at a party they all convinced me to attend—a reunion of friends they had insinuated at a wedding we all attended. I almost didn't know it was them. I had been so out of breath trying to get to the RiverLink Park that by that point I needed to sit. I was winded and tired, but glad I made it and looking forward to just relaxing by the river they had redone to accommodate yachts and made into a park. As they barely moved aside to let me pass, I looked closer and shuddered—it was them! His posture was menacing and I remembered the last time we spoke and he threatened me about being careful driving with the insinuation the police would be watching me. This was when I still had my car before they violently took it too and arrested me for no insurance which wasn't true. People had already been calling the cops and that's what he was threatening when I stopped by to talk like an old friend of 20yrs asking what was going on? I had assumed that it was all a misunderstanding that would be cleared up immediately. I left being threatened and just about shoved off his property in an aggressive manner like he was going to hit me. The cops were waiting for me when I had gotten home!
I was stunned and if not for their friendly dog would have been more upset than I was. The dog had jumped up on me repeatedly and I thought how friendly but ill-trained the dog was. I also saw the little toy breed they had and was concerned about seeing her run to catch up to the bigger dog. The neighbors up to the Lakehouse treated their toy breed dog the same and she ripped the skin on her little legs apart. "She's just a dog," this neighbor remarked as I held her at a get-together I attended before they all threatened me. She smelled horrible, was shaking, and extremely nervous. This neighbor kept making fun of her "not being able to take it!" She calmed as I held her and I knew it was because she was being treated as one of the numerous dogs that ran around menacing everyone. I was angry they would treat a toy breed like this and I had no idea the horrific way they would all come to treat my toy dog "Bentley" and then violently take him from me with the threats of him "being a bait dog." Dog breeds are different and what they were doing was animal cruelty.
Before I could think about it they passed me and kept going. "Filthy Fucking Scumbags!" I said under my breath. I didn't care if they heard me and found they're stalking me was increasingly getting more and more disturbing. It was the first time I expressed anger over what they had been doing for so very long. The first time I had thought—Enough! You're not going to hurt me anymore! I thought. How could they keep this going for so long? Why were they continuing this? It was my fucking right to live my life and here these people were constantly making problems for me. I then thought how it would probably be a problem now for me to even sit down by the river without their scumbag friends picking a fight with me or some other threat to call the cops. I couldn't believe that I could finally face them even if it was just in passing. They looked liked I should have seen them all those years ago but had been prevented from. I could not believe that I had been taken in by these people all these years.
I remembered sitting in the psych ward at St Marys having a guard push me into the wheelchair preventing me from standing telling me they weren't going to let me leave. Cops had busted down my door, told me I was agitated and put me in handcuffs, and took me to the hospital. My ex had been downstairs at our 2-family again causing trouble and he had called the cops again—it was a regular occurrence. He was getting people downstairs that were completely destroying the apartment. It was a beautiful apartment we had lived in the 20yrs we were married, but now was being destroyed.
I had initially tried to report being sexually assaulted after lured to a party by my ex and his friends, these very people, but I was ignored and told they had only met me 4 times and "didn't even know me!" I sat dumbfounded, confused, and in shock. I was being told I was "crazy" and had a "psychotic break," that these people don't know me! I thought of all the years I had known them and became dizzy and stayed seated as they filled out paperwork to have me admitted to St. Marys for a "psych eval," one of the many I was to endure when this all started. I told them repeatedly from the beginning what had happened but it was all ignored.
Her hair was an ungodly white color like too much bleach on a white shirt not washed properly that becomes yellow and was so over straightened and overdone that it looked clownish. A gaudy bright pink shirt that looked like it was from the 80s and a pair of out-of-date skinny jeans. The look was cheap and ugly, not the high-end wealthy woman of the world she had always pretended to be. I remembered my ex saying her sister had pursued him constantly years ago and they had dated and fooled around. I had assumed "fooled around," meant sleeping together, but he was trying to paint himself then as a good guy and wouldn't really say, other than they all were pretty "slutty," and were often out to the bars drinking especially after the other 2 sisters had been divorced young. She and her sisters had quite the reputation back then he had said.
He was dressed in a similar way. He had always been a big man as was my ex, over 6', but now overweight and slovenly. What the hell was on his T-shirt I thought? Some awful colored decals in a musty green color with matching shorts and tube socks with sneakers. I could not stand the look anymore. I remember asking my ex numerous times to wear the Dockers I convinced him to buy and the decent clothes I had bought him. He had continually dressed like some ill-kempt person towards the end of the marriage. Soiled sweatshirts, old wrangler jeans, and the old sneakers he wore all the time now with ugly white tube socks. I knew now it was to make it look like he was the abused spouse. I could not believe I had spent all these years not feeling good enough for these people. Here I was now, sleeping on an abandoned porch and homeless not knowing what the hell I was going to do, dragging the only things I had left in a small suitcase behind me.
They both looked like some low-class elderly Walmart shoppers trying too hard. After catching my breath, I had to laugh just a little. What the hell did I even see in these people all these years? I had cared about them like family. I had been humiliated all those years ago when they first invited me to a "Superbowl party" that was part Football party and partly a party for their son's Baptism. It was the same at the next party for his Birthday and the next and the next until I was no longer invited and the last one where he sexually assaulted me. I had no idea really about "Organized sports" or Football and wasn't into either, but had been excited to be invited. My ex had talked of "Football parties," he often attended and had been a fan of the Giants, but had drifted away telling me when we married that he was not all that into football anymore. By then, we were regularly up to the Sacandaga Lake, and on the boat, we kept at Driftwood Marina before we bought the Lakehouse when we married.
I had come to learn they were very wealthy and didn't accept me at all. Each party was just another example of how unacceptable they thought I was. She told me and others repeatedly that I had kept all my ex's friends away and because I didn't have children we really had nothing in common. I was invited to a few parties in the early years, but there was always something I did or didn't do that caused another one of those misunderstandings I was to see happening with so many people. I was blamed and blamed myself and just accepted I was not in their social circle. Her home was extravagant and she had everything. I remember when Walmart first opened and they had these green color kitchen accessories, I had saved up and bought a couple small matching house bric-a-brac things. I walked into her home and she had every conceivable thing from the line, even things not in the store, it was like a room with the entire line in it, like a store itself. It was so overdone that I told myself that I didn't need that much and I was never one to be envious anyway, it kinda looked awful. I should have known then like one of those red flags you ignore and tell yourself to give people a chance or you quiet that still small voice not really believing it.
They seemed glamorous and were more socially involved with other wealthier people that I had been lead to believe I was just not good enough to be with. Not having children was a sin I was not to be forgiven for because having children was everything I was told. I was often signaled out at these parties and often asked point-blank why I didn't have them yet and when we were going to. At the beginning of the marriage, it was a constant humiliation to have to somehow answer to all these women with children that had already been married over 10yrs and they all "didn't have to work!"
I never knew about the famous Journalist brother he had that worked for ABC News. My ex remarked at the beginning of us dating when I first met his family that he had a brother that did some stories for what seemed like Vietnam, but it was no big deal really and he never spoke about him again. Vietnam seemed like a remote time to me and so I left it at that. We never watched FOX news and that seemed crazy too, not that I was a fan, but memories of this man never came up? All these people had gone to the funeral where O’Reilly had actually given his elevator speech at the guys funeral and gotten a job after following him to ABC News—how disgusting I had thought. It reminded me of what my Grandmother went through at her Mother’s funeral over the Land. “They were arguing over the casket, she had said in a hurt and incredulous way—it had been appalling and resulted in my Grandmother having to leave and make her way alone with a young daughter in the city.
When I found out the truth I was floored. I had been Googling Bill O'Reilly about all the Sexual Harassment charges and there was a mention of a “Joe Spencer.” I Googled his name, but there was really nothing. I wondered why there was no write-up about him? "Why would I talk to YOU about my brother?" he had said, the contempt dripping profusely like the sweat beads forming above his snarled lips when I asked him about his brother all these years later.
I had kept all these good friends of my ex's away all these years and she in particular let me know it all the time along with the fact of not having children. My ex would assure me all the time that was never the case. He was married now, wanted to be with his wife, and was not into going out to the bars all the time like in the past. We were up to The Sacandaga Lake every weekend, holidays, and every vacation. He talked about how once my cousin had gotten into Heroin and gotten divorced all these old friends and the relationships had changed, but I still repeatedly invited them and had been broken-hearted they didn't like me. I had no idea that it had all been done on purpose to keep me isolated and alone with no one but my ex. He ended up controlling all the communication with all these people and I ended up almost not existing because of the extreme gaslighting that went on with all of them.
In spite of the rough start, I talked to a few couples that pulled their yachts up to the docks. I talked of the little runaround we used to have, a little 21' that had a cuddy and they told me of their trips. One couple was from Texas another was from Indianapolis and another from Canada. I had just gotten back from Maine and spoke of all the Canadians in Maine. It turned out to be a nice day, but that often happens here. People start out nice and then are told a bunch of lies or turn out to be friends with these people and the next thing I know I'm attacked and people start screaming they are going to call the cops. I thought of telling these people how crazy it is here now, they were already having trouble getting things to dock here. I imagine if they were a certain type of person they probably would have problems. It had become so violent here. I don't feel bad for not traveling all that much. Partly was seeing people talk about their cruises and my inlaws constant traveling but a little bit away from the "tourist traps," was the extreme poverty that kept it all going. It all always seemed so fake to me, just like the parents of the man who assaulted me did today.
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