Feb. 28th, 2012

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Michael went to the post office, and a letter from our lawyer was waiting. It contained what was faxed to Bette's lawyer, and what answer he got.

Basically she is basing her entire claim on a piece of paper, which could've been written at any time, saying that she can take payment for our house. It is dated January 2007. The signature is a scribble, and is not identified by a typed name below it. There is no witness or notary.

In the meantime, we got another letter from her attorney, claiming that the "public auction" which supposedly took place already, resulting in the 3-day eviction notice, is now going to take place on March 15. Yeah, wrap your head around THAT temporal displacement.

I just cannot fathom what it's like to think you're so much better than someone else to the point where you can toy with their lives and security like this...Even the times in my life where I was doing fairly well, I never thought myself to be better than anyone else.

The title search still shows the deed as belonging to Buenaventura Capital. If it had been "sold" to BG, the tax liens on it would've come immediately due. While Norman Flam seems to be shady in his dealings, I'm sure he's smart enough to know those taxes would come due - to him - if the note was sold. The taxes are tied to the house, not to me, personally.

Basically BG's lawyer is engaging in scare tactics that would've scared 90 out of 100 people out of this house - and likely has in the past. To them, we're nothing but white trash, so it's incomprehensible to them that we'd have the brains to lawyer up and actually fight this. It still seems to not have registered on their radar, even after receiving a letter from our lawyer.

If Olaf and company shows up in front of my house for this supposed sale on March 15, I am calling the sheriff on them. Not only would it be disruptive for them to do such a thing in the middle of this MH park without permission - he does not have clear legal standing to be selling anything.

I don't know yet where we need to go with this, but it's obvious we're going to have to pay our attorney a retainer. I would like to personally thank those who have already donated to that cause. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it, especially with this coming after the Oathbreaker drained our savings AND stole my family inheritance.

I'm already seeing signs of personal stress from all this. I cried, on and off last night, till I was too tired to do anything else. My thought processes are being affected; this is a part of the multiple sclerosis and depression I deal with on a daily basis. I find myself going into a room and having to stop and think of what I went there for. I find myself trying to take care of simple tasks requiring thought, and my brain just kinda does a "what?" sort of thing (that's the best way I can describe it). I'm having trouble remembering the simplest things.

If it weren't for Michael, I'd be in a pickle. He's my rock. He's my memory. He's the one who can get the simple tasks done when I can't think my way out of a wet paper bag.

Unless you've had brain damage, from MS or another cause, it's hard to explain how stress like this can fuck up your thought processes. Things that come easily to most folks get derailed easily. Your train of thought refuses to follow a direct path to conclusion, often going into black holes where you can't for the life of you remember what it is you have to remember. It's very frustrating, especially for someone like me, whose IQ tests off the charts. IQ doesn't matter if the neural pathways have damage. The harder I try, the more of a moron I come across as, especially if I'm trying to communicate with someone else.

I'm not a moron. I'm a disabled, decorated USAF veteran, with the equivalent of a college degree and then some. I can say that, and even produce the paperwork to prove it, but that doesn't matter if I still come off as a wide-eyed moron who behaves like someone just hit me in the head. That's what this kind of stress turns me into, a wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights, blibbering moron.

I am going to go distract myself for a little while now, before I just give up and go back to bed.


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Marie Wonka

December 2012

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