Trials and Tribulations

Trying to take care of things, but living out of a car is hard. Especially when there are two of you and a dog, and the human Male has ADHD and a short fuse. A loud fuse. He was spoiled by his mom throughout his life and lives that reality. Facing the daily truth is too hard for him since it is his brother’s doing. But Gary isn’t dealing with it. I am. Someone has to, because Will shouldn’t die like this. His mom would never want that. I respect Dorothy’s memory too much for that.

Paperwork is “misplaced”. Keeping track is hard, especially when he moves stuff and the car is “messy”. I try to keep it clean, but he shoves trash in nooks and crannies to be “throw out” later because his back hurts so much. I keep a trash bag and place trash in there and he stuffs that into a clear cranny and it is overlooked until the smell starts. Yuck. Cleaning the car is a weekly chore I go through and he fusses he’s tired.

It’s like being married without any sex. That’s why he’s a trophy husband. He makes up for it 95% of the time. That 5% is a challenge due to my disability, which he doesn’t really understand part of the time. He doesn’t understand I can’t control the emotional outbursts. They can improve with therapy, but my neurologist doesn’t know how to refer me with MediCal.

That meeting was so depressing yesterday. My deficits are no doubt permanent. If I have another stroke, go to Valley Care/ Stanford Medical, otherwise good luck. No further follow-up, until I have another stroke. Gee thanks. That’s what I wanted to hear. UCSF was more upbeat than him, but they didn’t send him the notes from the last meeting, so he had nothing to review or reference.

It seems I have to make sure everyone gets the information they need as it happens. No one talks to anyone else, or faxes the documentation to the referring doctor. I’ll follow up with my new PCP. She is on top of referrals and medication, more so than the last one. I got my optometry referral already. I see the doctor next Friday!

I talked to Social Security today and updated my address. The appeal decision can take 2-3 months, more than likely 2. They are improving! Until that has been typed into the system, nothing moves forward. 2 months!? I can’t handle this, especially since Contra Costa screwed up so bad. I have too much to pay out when I receive the Award, whenever that is and if they don’t question something or they want something else. I just know other’s who have had issues and it doesn’t help my paranoia.

What I need to take care of in the next month:

– My car registration that was due 12/8/2018

– My main storage unit that they have offered to let my pay half if I get it moved out within 3 days of paying IN CASH approx. $1500 and not including a truck or helpers to load to a truck(s)

– Paying my 2nd storage unit because it’s behind as I didn’t have the funds when it was due. Cell phone and car insurance has to be paid and there wasn’t enough left over for that since the $320 a month for General Assistance goes to gas for the car too. And we have to go to the doctor’s and move around or be sited for loitering.

– A motel room for 1 night a week for a shower and to sleep flat. Will needs it nightly, but 1 night a week is ok for me. My back readjusts and I’m ok for a week. He needs his back surgery and a referral to an oncologist.

-My car fixed. I “beached” Cutty (Dad’s 1998 Oldsmobile Cutlass) on a median in the dark and in the rain and it has happened before to others, including a car that a tow truck helped an hour before me. My alignment is so off, I had to have 2 tires replaced and the back strut is “peeing” (must be replaced). I have no money for that. I used what I had from a small inheritance I received for the tires so I could drive and that’s all gone now. Kevin, my new mechanic of choice, said the strut would be another $250, not counting the alignment or whatever else is wrong with Cutty as she creaks more than she ever did. There is more damage that we don’t know about.

That is just some of it, but the most pressing. A home would be nice, but not in the horizon with all the issues having to do with project specific paper work and no award letter stating I am receiving SSI. I have nothing and no hope for the future, because if my appeal is denied, I can appeal again and I will give up. I can’t go through this again sleeping in the car. And there is no help with Homeless Services. That is just a joke. I can’t get my car registration paid without getting an updated bill from the DMV as if they would pay it then. I have given them a bill, a printout, with dates to pay by and they blew right past those. I can’t trust or depend on CityServe.

Please help if you can or share. I need help because the services for a person like me (disabled and not an Addict or with a record) aren’t there. I am able to be “well”, supposedly. No, I’m not and either is Will. We can wait, if we don’t die first.

http://www.gofundme.com/life4wng20

Homelessness – the True Crisis in Our Communities – Ongoing series

The “border” crisis is a Trumplandian myth. Our real crisis in our country is homelessness.

If it is to be believed, in 2017 HUD stated there were 500,000 homeless people. Half a million. Last Thursday, I heard a worker from Alameda County state there were 300,000 people just in this County. No doubt she meant 30,000, but still. In this County. Alameda has twice as many people as San Francisco City & County and their homeless crisis is worse. Here’s a link https://www.census.gov/quickfacts/fact/table/alamedacountycalifornia,sanfranciscocountycalifornia/PST045217

It is troubling and considering who the Head of HUD is, I doubt it is anywhere near correct or actual or TRUTHFUL.

Consider the town where you live. Do you see homeless individuals? I know you will see individuals who are “chasing the dragon” since we have an opioid epidemic in this country. Immigrants are not the crisis. Our “native” population of citizens are. And if not opioids, meth or other elicit drugs.

I will tell you about Sue, a 66 year old woman who is homeless. She has a housing voucher, a precious commodity in this County. I know another woman who has had a voucher for 2 years and is still homeless but not disabled like Sue is. Sue has rheumatoid arthritis and is scheduled to have spinal surgery in 2 months. Sue is wearing a neck brace as the arteritis has become so disabling she is risking becoming paralyzed without the neck support.

She is homeless and living in her car. Just like Will and I. And as a disabled woman on Social Security Disability she isn’t receiving help to get housing. She has a voucher! Like that is security at night when she’s sleeping in a car.

When she has surgery in the next few months, she will be in a convalescent home for up to six months, but where will she go after that? One night a week, a woman she met at Walmart let’s her sleep at her home and can bathe. One night a week. Imagine if this were you? How long would you do that?

This lovely lady, a former park ranger at Yosemite, is vivacious, intelligent and mentally sound. She was given a shelter bed at Sojourner House (I was called about that women’s shelter, no follow up after I gave permission for a background check) and she lasted 3 days before returning to sleeping in the car. Why? The chaos inside Sojourner House with the addicts and psychologically challenged who ran the place instead of staff. And that is a huge issue, the addicts, users and mentally ill are a huge issue for those who are “normal” but disabled.

Sue and I agree. There needs to be a separation of “services” within the homeless community. Neither of us are stating those people don’t need help, but those that are disabled and have difficulty managing their health should have priority over an addict who makes the choice every time they use. A clear decision. Sue and I don’t make a choice about “being sick” or disabled. That is what life has given us. What our Maker has chosen for us. Respect us as humans without choice. Loose dogs are treated better. They get taken to the pound. We just get harassed and told to move along.

I have the ability to write. I was once a public speaker, something I can’t do anymore due to the stroke damage. I am slow and my speech is laboured in the delivery. I have to think of the words to say as often I fail to remember or mispronounce or slaughter them. That is difficult for me as I was the queen of enunciation and articulation. And rapid fire comebacks. Oh, how I miss that! I could shut Will up with a brief and cutting remark. He is long winded, shall we say. He commands the audience – 1 person or a room full. I love him to death but my ears and mind get tired. So tired.

As I have written, homelessness is a crisis in this country. I would ask you to see this video from KOMO News, Seattle is Dying. A tragic but informative documentary on a beautiful City I have visited often, but not since 2012 and boy has it changed! Here is the link https://youtu.be/bpAi70WWBlw

Learn. Educate yourself. Be aware. It could be you or a loved one who faces this event.

And, of course, our GoFundMe for the beginning of change

http://www.gofundme.con/life4wng20

Homelessness – an Ongoing Tale

I am homeless. I am writing this on my cellphone. I do have one modern technological luxury. Thank God.

I sleep in my car with my friend Will and our dog Andy. It’s tight and uncomfortable, but there is no other choice. A bus bench maybe. The ground. We had a cold hard floor in the Livermore Homeless Refuge and a thin yoga mat. You try it. That sucks.

Will has spinal stenosis. A bad back that requires surgery. Sleeping as he does now or on the floor or ground is painful and difficult. I have had a stroke and am disabled and suffering from incontinence. I have done the “walk of shame” from my car into Safeway or Walmart because I didn’t make it before I overflowed my Depends undergarment before I could reach the restroom. I am 53 and have no children. My “rig wasn’t wrecked” by childbirth. Just damage to my central nervous system when I had vascular lacunar strokes.

In that sense, I have no one to blame but me. My body failed me and I failed my body by not taking better care of it. I have diabetes and high blood pressure and I smoke. I did when taking care of “mom” and she threw out my meds as I was an “addict”. That is a long and ridiculous story of a narcissist who thought she was above everyone else and killed my father and tried to kill me over prescription drugs that she didn’t feel were necessary in her opinion.

I will write a book about my life with her. It will make Mommy Dearest read like a cute fable. Gunn had nothing on Joan Crawford other than insanity and an ego.

Back to me. I will document here what Will and I are going through, what we are experiencing, what organizations are giving us service’s and how we are progressing medically, psychologically and emotionally.

Each is it’s own world and combined is simply a wait at death’s door.

In Alameda County, San Francisco Bay Area, there are 1.69M inhabitants. An annual census, to be released this summer, will show 17% of its population is homeless and that figure will be low as it was a visual count done by volunteers. I was to be one of the “paid” participants. At some time, I will recall how that initial meeting went, which was a joke. You can spot homeless people with cars from the urine puddles. Really Mr-not-in-my-backyard-jerk? Puddles!? The maligning the homeless go through is atrocious and, as one of the homeless, completely offensive. I do not urinate outside my vehicle. I did once and fell over and almost broke my glasses and sustained road rash that lasted for days, along with humiliation. My balance is unstable. I fell. I am disabled and just needed to do a human bodily function as there were no rest rooms nearby that were open or available. I don’t have a penis with which to aim and write my name. Or a Gatorade bottle.

Will and I unfortunately discussed this at great length. Ggggggrrrrrreeeaaatttt length. I do not want to discuss peni or male bodily functions ever again except for brief medical processes that discussion can be complete in 30 minutes or less. This may be beyond Will’s capabilities. (Love you Trophy Hubby)

It has been 13 days since we bathed. There are no location’s for the homeless community to bath that is handicapped equipped without someone screaming for you to hurry up as soon as you enter the area. Forget about even turning on the water, if it’s working. The cement floor is slippery and very cold concrete with 0 handholds or ability to sit. But they are “trying”. As a disabled woman, no you are not. Two separate locations maybe twice a week if you can get on the list and if they call you without someone else jumping ahead of you. I would rather stink than deal with that chaos since I have a TBI with cognitive impairment. I emotionally break down when my brain overloads and get banned from one location for “making a scene and being disorderly”. I am disabled police officer. Go away as I told you. You’re upsetting people.

It is wrong. It is against God’s Word and lessons. And that is what I will write here. How we fail to treat our brethren with love and respect.

Stay tuned. I will not proselytize. Just write of real life occurences.

It’s Getting Too Hard To Live

It will be the 2 month Anniversary in 3 days of my sudden and incomprehensible homeless status. That in itself is depressing.

Thanks Myrna. That wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t such guilt-filled tool to your spoiled and ungrateful adopted teenage daughter. As my generation says – Fuck that noise. But I lecture, and she knows everything. I’ll refrain from saying something truly offensive since you still have my property under tarps in your backyard on earth which is probably muddy and a quagmire.

That’s one issue I have to deal/live with.

There is a housing crisis, and women witg children in dire situations have priority. Or assicts seeking recovery. Or newly released felons that want a path back to a normal life. Everyone else, get on line. The cities don’t fully comprehend how severe the homeless situation is.

Later this month, an organization called CityServe out of Pleasanton is recruiting homeless individual’s to help their employees find and meet homeless people they might not have had contact with yet. To get a number.

The homeless will hide, stay away, because they know nothing will happen, nothing will change, they can more money from the state but the homeless wil still have to scrap and fight to stay alive.

Lee, a very fastidious and generous homeless man, who washes his clothes and stays feed, yet gives food, clothes and blankets to other homeless, was attacked and sustained a severe facial injury which destroyed his eye glasses over what the prep thought he might have – $40. It was caught on tape at the Safeway and that prep is now cooling his heels at Santa Rita Jail.

Lee is almost 70 and bothers no one. And he was targeted because it was assumed he had money and couldn’t defend himself.

And the weak don’t survive on the streets.

Livermore has a Volunteer Group that runs the “Warming Center”. Good people and a faith based project involving church’s and parishioner volunteers. It has a good foundation, but it is temperature driven, and Weather Underground is the site they use.

For instance, it will be 48F tomorrow morning – no rain, but a wind advisory (35 mph). 100% chance of rain today – before midnight. The Center is closed tonight and based on the projected temperature will be closed tomorrow.

I haven’t been staying there anyway. Too volatile and mentally toxic for me. And a potential TIA threat.

Just before Christmas, there was an incident with a young man who couldnt keep his mouth shut. As a courtesy, my friend Will told him he couldn’t secure his bike to the railing for the steps that led to the Church chapel. The church is over 100 years with old with narrow steps. I have difficulty negotiating those steps in daylight holding the a rail. He was taking one out of commission.

He was offended and defensive and threatens Will. He knew his car and his dog. Steven, that punks name, has gang ties and knows others. He even knew someone that night and asked if that man still wanted to kick Will’s ass. That Stephen had an issue over Will’s friendship with his “woman”. Will’s gay. What’s your issue? That “woman” Stephen loves so much, that he referred to as a “whore” (a HOT button for me, Thanks Gunn) was mad at Stephen, so he wants to take his frustrations out on Will, and Little Steven (both have been referred to as “Lurch” by Will and I – for looming tendencies they display – the latter is Little Lurch) knew this and figured he had an in for destruction. He even told Will daddy was a Golden Glove. So? Daddy you don’t live with is going to pound a grown man of a similar age because he shared to you that thing was inappropriate and not acceptable?

Sure, why not? If he’s as mentally unstable, of course he would defend his offspring. Ugh.

Others tried to defuse the situation, but Baby Lurch (oops, my bad) wouldn’t listen to reason. Even one guy who just eats there said “come on, she has a point. Did you mean that old gay guy? Ignore him.” Another hot button. But BL wouldn’t drop it since everyone saw and heard he was in the wrong.

I even said, I’ve had a stroke and this was very upsetting and dangerous for me and could he please stop. He didn’t. And it kept going until my blood pressure dropped, I started spiralling because of the coginitive brain injury and chemical imbalance in mh brain that is still unmedicated until 1/10/2019, I was rendered speechless, was dizzy and my whole body was shaking, until I was finally able to scream “Go to Hell you sick fuck! I won’t let you kill me. I’m sorry Lord for those words in your house, but I have never wanted to see someone burn in hell like him!”

Everyone saw how bad I was. I made my way out to the car where Will was and asked him if he could take me to the hospital. Donna asked if her husband Bob could take me, but I declined. I needed my new bestie.

We went to Valleycare/Stanford Medical, and they kept me overnight due to it being my 2nd visit that week and third in a month. They wanted me to be evaluated by a neurologist to insure I hadn’t had another TIA. I didn’t, but I’m in a high risk category.

And I haven’t been back to the Warming Center since, because Baby Lurch is still welcome there. I have run into him at other homeless services and had to leave because of his mother mouth and I was so upset. Will and I cried in the parking lot after that incident.

I avoid Baby Lurch at all costs. I can’t deal with that. It will kill me, as if being homeless isn’t going to anyway.

The other incident with another homeless woman sent me spiraling when she accused me of lying about her. I wasn’t even awake or in the room where she was when it happened.

There is too much drama in the homeless community and the Warming Center is volatile and toxic. Not just my opinion. Several people, including a sweet older gentleman who had a minor heart attack a few days after he was banned from the Center for having empty 1/5ths of vodka in his bag.

As if alcoholism doesn’t exist in the homeless community. Ban it and they won’t be alcoholics anymore? Give me a fucking break.

I’m tired of this and loosing it and Will doesn’t know how to cheer me up or make me smile.

Well, for one thing, I’m broke.

General Assistance os screwed up because I didn’t send in an income form for 3Q. I have submitted it now, but my worker isn’t back until tomorrow. And I have no Food Stamps either. Will gave me his GA. He has nothing but trusts me with his money.

My car tags are expired. I have no money for that or the bogus ticket I got in 2017 for supposedly “running” a red light. Couldn’t explain then because words were still hard, can’t explain know because I get so easily upset and wail.

My cell bill is due. My other storage unit is due. My stuff is still at Myrna’s, like my chairs I’ve had for 30 years that were my brother-in-laws, crystal that my parents received throughout the years, my Keurig, my Kitchen Aid Pro Mixer, a lot of good stuff that I was supposed to give away? I did that when I closed down Mom’s house. Fucking jerks.

I’m pissed. Can you tell? I have coginitive dissonance? That isn’t the same as a cognitive brain injury witchy-poo. Read a book other than fantasy or romance. Or ask your husband since he’s got tons of books. Study the brain and get to know about it, and not pop-psychology. The Reader’s Digest version isn’t quite enough.

Anyhoo, back to me. I’ve been told I’m condescending and have no self awareness. From my friend and practical brother since we were 13. He threw me out of his life a few years ago (via phone and endlessly yelling ‘Fuck you Wendy” – I don’t know what I did) and I’ve been trying to reconnect. Stubborn ass just shut me down. Sent me spiraling again. He doesn’t care.

I doubt he ever did after age 40.

It’s been a lousy few months and I’m fading.

I don’t want to, but the body can only handle so much.

My SSI hearing is in March 20, 2019, but I have just found out that my friend’s sister was granted SSI, after several years, and she still hasn’t received a check. Trump has the government shut down, so will that impact government business to that degree OVER A BORDER WALL TO KEEP OUT MEXICANS?

He makes me sick. Fucking traitor. Putin’s Puppet. Rich toad.

I need to bring awareness to mu campaign. I need to raise that money TO SURVIVE AND LIVE. I can’t trust the government. I can’t trust homeless services. I can trust a small group of people that are keeping me alive.

Share this. Direct people here. I will write amd update as I can, but if I don’t pay my cell soon, it’ll be turned off. And this site is up for renewal also.

I can’t do this and I can’t get anyone to share this in newspapers (I tried – too much to write about – if it’s all true), TV (too much for a segment), on and on. I barely get a share on Facebook for my campaign (thank you Mark and Claudia – you’ve been my team, the other’s haven’t participated).

http://www.gofundme.com/life4v

Thank you. I will endeavor to bring more stories and hopefully some sunshine on a cloudy day.

Christmas is here again….bah humbug

I’m not looking forward to the next few days. They won’t be enjoyable, at least from my little niche of the world. I’m homeless and disabled? Happy Holidays! Sure. Whatever.

Ebeneezer? Party of one? Table for one!

Being homeless sucks. I’m trying to find the bright side, but it’s getting too hard. Between the chronically homeless, Tweakers, addicts, and general crazies, it’s wearing at me. I need to write this shit, but time isn’t with me.

Will is my new fabulous friend. I’m the Grace to his Will and with Andy, his therapy dog, we have laughs and chuckles everyday.

Then there is Eddie, another friend who suffers from hallucinations. More about him later.

Barbara, bat shit crazy Barbara, who set me off when she accused me of lying and other things, just because she also slept at the Homeless Refuge, but broke the rules. She came back after being told she wasn’t welcome. Not by me, but she sensed weakness and exploited it. Bitch. That is one thing I hate about the Homeless community. Weakness is prayed upon.

Please, I can’t do this anymore – mentally or physically. It’s Christmas and I have nothing – no money, some food stamps, General Assistance isn’t available until 1/3/2019, my car registration is due, my car has issues….my life is a mess….. http://www.gofundme.com/life4v

Please help

Giving Tuesday

The holiday season is in full swing as we are a day away from Thanksgiving. I will be spending my day at St. Raymond’s in Dublin, California with my homeless friends enjoying a notable spread. It sounds exiting. I miss Thanksgiving with my in-laws. I miss Thanksgiving with Dad.  I have no family, so this is the closest I can get.

I wrote a letter to the East Bay Times today. I am including it for your edification

Email: local@eastbaynewsgroup. com

RE: Contra Costa Health Plan is committing malpractice

Contra Costa Health Plan could have killed me by doing it slowly and painfully. Here is what happened and I have filed with the California Medical Board.

I had a stroke 11/29/2016. CCHP failed to follow standard stroke protocol. My eating issues was an eating disorder. My incontinence was “the Change” though I’ve never given birth. I have Pseudo-Bulbar Affect, a neurological imbalance that can be treated with medication (I wail if I become slightly emotional), but I need to seen by a psychiatrist for my eating disorder and depression. But I wasn’t given referrals as I didn’t have “real” symptoms and the doctors were busy with real patients. Not just one doctor – it is systemic. A Nurse Practitioner, lied to her colleagues and accused me of assaulting her during a routine appointment where she had failed to refill several blood pressure medications, a psychologist claimed I was “grandiose and delusional”, though I had stability issues and used a cane to walk.
On November 1st of this year. I received a diagnosis of Vascular Lacunar Stroke by UCSF Vascular-Neurology Services, and they used the 11/29/2016 scans which showed a history of vascular lacunar infarcts. Something CCHP all but denied.
They said I had a lacunar stroke, an aneurysm, but VLS is specific and a rarity when not in your mid-60’s. I was 51 and it can be an indication if Vascular Dementia, Alzheimer’s nasty cousin.
Being 5150’d and falsely accused was traumatic enough. Getting the bill for the ambulance was adding insult to injury. Not addressing my stroke was criminal and impacted my ability to secure SSI. which I was denied the first time since there was no history of doctors appointments for my stroke recovery.
I have a diagnosed cognitive brain injury and CCHP actively and intentionally committed malpractice, even though they were being compensated by the State via Medi-Cal through the Medicaid expansion via Obamacare.
I won’t bother to go into detail about Contra Costa Social Services. Simply put – they suck, are woefully mismanaged and dehumanize as opposed to “helping”.
Sincerely,
Venka Anderson
And I emailed the California Medical Board to revise my complaints to include Contra Costa Health Plan, not just 2 doctors. Their overall medical practice is atrocious. I can’t be the only one.
I remind you this is Giving Tuesday and I still have my own campaign http://www.gofundme/com/life4v which deperately needs your support.  Please let me know what you think – here or on Facebook under the page @onetinysoapox. Thank you for joining me on this journey. I’m not done yet.

Week Two of Homelessness

Still getting the hand of this different way of life. Can’t type too long. I have a therapist appointment with my MFT Pam. She’s awesome and I have so much to tell her.

These last 2 weeks have been a cyclone.

Donna and Bob – the homeless is their ministry. Donna has been so helpful and caring. A vision of the mother I wish I had had. Kind, caring, compassionate with encouraging words. I want to be her when I grow up! I’m grown, I need to achieve what I was meant to be – an advocate for the less fortunate, the voiceless, the broken. What I’ve always wanted but didn’t know how. This lesson has shown me, and my viking heart has an enemy to battle. No two-handed broad sword, just a voice, a pen and ink – or a laptop and WiFi. Donna encourages me to accomplish this,

I am thankful to have a place to sleep. even though it’s on the floor and difficult for me to get up and lay down, to even turn over. And my back hurts so much! A sleeping bag doesn’t provide much cushioning.

You get home after a doctors appointment and you find the locks changed. You’re barred from entering. You go back to your car confused and don’t understand what happened. You drive off not sure where to go, but you go off to cry because there is nothing else to do. You text later, asking to pick up your life saving meds, some clothes, your laptop. You receive a text q few hours later saying to come and get that. Except everything you had in an upstairs bedroom has been brought into the living room, your clothe in a pile on their hangers, boxes stacked up, bags thrown in. You have to decide RIGHT THAT MINUTE what you need. A folding table is set up in the driveway to facilitate moving things out and to the car because you can’t carry much because you’re so unstable. You bring out the suitcase and it’s almost dark, so you put it in the trunk and the clothes in the back seat because you can’t take the humiliation of “packing” in the driveway. Your food is one a cooler bag. You manage to grab your meds, your laptop, your dirty clothes, your clean clothes, your parka and your cell charger and you leave just as the sun is dipping into the west.

You don’t think of your backpack, or your gloves, or your knit cap you made last winter which would be perfect to over your infected ears. You have one book and on lame knitting project. The rest is under a trap in the backyard, except for the PC Tower which is indoors.  The entire incident was traumatizing, dehumanizing and frankly cruel. The horror I went through the day before determining what mistakes I had made to come to this stage – I’m 53, not 23. I have been a business professional. I took care of my adopted mother full time for 3 years.  I sacrificed my life for that ungrateful, hateful, destructive bitch and for ANYONE to pass judgement of me now?  Where were you when I was going through that? Why didn’t you tell me then I was making a mistake. I wasn’t selfish enough to not give a damn about an octegarian who had no family here to take care of her. Oops, my bad. I didn’t know the extent of her lies at that point. It wasn’t until after her death the truth was known. Was that my bad? Not how Dad raised me. You adjust and find a new path. What we had done for year.

I took a verbal berating from a man I had respected, but abhorred now for his small mindedness, his obvious dismissal, his abject cruelty. I would have parried with a verbal retort, something along the lines his lineage was showing or such an imbecile who claims intellectual superiority, but with my cognitive brain injury I just managed to squeak out “Fuck you Gary”. And he was obviously offended and I was now vicious, no wonder I had been thrown out before, etc., etc. When I stammered out it took everything I had not to drive out to the desert and slash my wrists, he made some comment that it wasn’t  a bad idea. I can’t remember the exact words, but it wasn’t anything to dissuade me from suicide. I’m going to live if only to prove he is a heartless dick. I feel sorry for his wife of 46 years. Being the butt of jokes, constant jibes, heartless goading – it is demeaning and I don’t see it improving a they get older.  It wears at your soul.

Not being heard isn’t that different and I lived with that throughout my childhood and my marriage.  I dreamed of a different reality and it never appeared.