It’s pouring rain, not sure where to go now. I came earlier to Stewart’s, but it was mobbed. This goes on where ever I go. It is busy at times, but mobbing me has become a regular thing here now. I was recently assaulted and threatened at McDonalds, my food tainted at Dunkin Donuts, and menaced at Planet Fitness. It goes on now wherever ever I go, involving my family also.
I stopped counting all the attacks; bullying, threats, dirty looks, rude service regardless of how much I spend, and now the threats to kill me, rape me, or dispose of me. I guess “Disappearing me!” wasn’t enough.
I sat earlier in the week at the dirty bus stop watching a gentleman sleeping. A lady came by and tried to wake him. His name is “Jim,” and he suffers from Mental-illness and Alcoholism, according to the nice friends he has that try to help him. I met both of them as they told me stories of how our Social Services treats people here in Amsterdam NY.
Jim was shabbily dressed with dirty, stained clothes, one sock, no coat, and was yelling profusely in between bouts of sleeping. I asked originally if he was breathing and his friend, a woman that explained his situation, was trying to see. He wouldn’t answer, seemed unresponsive, but she said that he was breathing. He continued to lash out, crying out in pain and anger, then go to sleep. It didn’t seem right. He seemed in pain.
I wanted to call someone, but cops have now made it impossible for me to even ask for help even if it’s someone else. I checked again with the woman I had talked to and she said that yes, “Jim went to the hospital.” He had infections on his legs that had maggots in them. I cringed and asked how this is possible. Can that happen?
Why the fuck would someone be in that condition? Doesn’t someone check on him? I knew the answer as my continuing nightmare was only getting worse—Social Services had now just become another front for corruption.
Jim had care workers, case managers, and others, but here we sat as I struggled to understand why I was being treated so poorly, threatened, had all my assets taken with false allegations of being “crazy,” and here was Jim, obviously in need of care and being ignored. I was angry and disgusted with what was going on in my community and the people that let it go on!
I told his “friends,” I was writing about this very issue in Amsterdam NY and I would talk about Jim. They also said they had tried, but got nowhere. I knew they were telling the truth. I was forced by a contemptuous cop who told me to “go to Social Services,” snickering, when after my ex-husband threatened to put me on the street and did, I had at first called and asked them about his threats. I was shocked, why would I have to go to Social Services? I had plenty of assets. They were for people that had nothing, were disabled, or had children! I had none of that having grown up on Welfare, I knew how horrible it was and had been determined to create a life and career that was so far from the poverty I grew up with. They told me they would be there if there was an “incident!”
When they came not too long after, they slammed me down and pepper-sprayed me as I sat in a chair. My ex-husband yelling that “nothing is yours,” and he was putting me on the street. I sat in shock trying to comprehend the absurdity of this—I had lots of assets!
“Your crazy,” the cop sneered. This was to be the response each time my ex-husband called them along with false allegations I was a whore and “Prostitute.” It started a nightmare that rages on and has resulted in the theft of everything I had, which by that time amounted to quite a lot.
Girl grows up on welfare, does well, works hard and is grateful she has achieved a nice middle-class lifestyle; new car, home, vacation property, and a career she loved, but these Men were going to make sure that was not my story at 50yrs old. I also had my dream come true of a small Art studio and had just been selling my photography and doing small Graphic Design jobs—all that destroyed now!
“You have to spend down what you have,” the woman snidely remarked. I was forced to go to Social Services again after put on the street, which was a regular joke now by abusive cops. “Go to DSS,” they would laugh sarcastically.
I sat humiliated explaining I had assets, but was being prevented from them, told I was “crazy,” and would be put in some kind of Assisted Living Facility, “The Sentinel;” Supervised Housing or other managed care facility—I sat in shock. That’s Welfare Fraud, I said! this was the second time I was forced there! armed with some information and determined now to understand what they were doing to me and what seemed like a sick game.
“We can’t help you,” she said condescendingly. I was only 50yrs old, had been forced to take an IRA my ex-husband had at his work that was now closed, a local Mill in town. I had no idea what stocks were in it or how it was managed, obviously not well! I would not receive it until 59.5 yrs old, which was signed by an abusive forced Adlitem when I wasn’t even there after being violently put on the street, my new car taken, and no place to stay—in contempt! the Judge said, “crazy whore,” cops joked and threatened!
I took care of my ex-husbands Aunt that was Bipolar and on Lithium my entire 20yr marriage. Her “spells,” kinda scary when I was a young woman. She would go from comatose to talking so fast that it wasn’t hard to tell how she wasn’t the joke of being “crazy,” that people often use to control others behavior or shame them, especially woman. I had never seen anyone talk like that, go from one topic to another in jagged sentences that were disconnected and didn’t make sense to days where she was so depressed that it seemed she would expire on the spot. Irene could be friendly and talkative when on her “meds.” I got used to her moods, often learning on my own. I was to learn early we didn’t talk about mental-illness with my new in-laws. Even when Irene was committed periodically and released a short-time later. How nice she managed on her own with my then husbands help and mine, so much so she was making large, complicated decisions about my financials I had no idea about—our monies, properties co-mingled from the start!
Irene left me nothing after promising for years to leave me her house. An old house that wasn’t what I would have wanted, but I was as only 30yrs old and owning property was a goal. “If she wanted to leave you something,” she would have the Judge roared. I sat dumbfounded—Irene was mentally-ill.
She had been allowed to make these decisions that were life threatening for me, stay in her home, receive the best of care, and here I was struggling to stay alive. Irene always had “lawyers,” she would often quip whenever I asked questions. Her, my MIL, and my ex-husband frequenting lawyers assuring me everything was fine. I made too much of things and was starting something, often polite way of saying I was money-grubbing. I believed all these lawyers meant things were in my best interest also—I was young!
I sit today realizing people like Jim and I don’t have advocates like this wealthy Aunt that promised so much after I gave her so much care and in the divorce viciously not only didn’t leave me what she promised, but left me on the street—impoverished. The games had started as soon as I met her; conspiring to get my care and pity, but deceitfully plotting to just use me as a “Polish slave!” her niece telling me one time there are good Polish girls and bad ones. Irene would often put together “care packages,” for Polish women and also had women from Poland come here—what could be wrong with that? I thought I had been good to take care of Irene, but today know that was not the case! She had been a spiteful, quietly vicious woman who had an illness—a real one the courts and lawyers here encouraged. Slavery is an abomination! Jim gets no help, I’m falsely accused, but Irene does such horrible damaged sanctioned by lawyers, hospital here, and judges—I might never recover. We have a long way to go here.
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