Photo taken at: Creatives’ Center
Think You Got What It Takes?
Leadership, “Madness,” and Empathic Power : Mockingbird
What makes the great ones?
Ask almost anyone anywhere, and you’ll get the same response: some form of personal exertion, “determination” or “perseverance” or “vision”.
Ask almost anyone, and you’ll receive a response rooted in the individual’s uncompromising leadership–they’ll speak of the necessary qualities which brought him/her to helm in a time when he/she was most needed.
Others might go so far as to say that this kind of leadership sits within us all, but is only activated when one realizes it, believes in oneself, and confidently makes the strides towards achievement.
This mythology speaks for presidents as much as social activists or stadium rockers. It is the “I will” and not the “Can I?” that brings one beyond one’s constraints…
Listen to He Walks With Me (In The Garden) “Song for Grandpa” by Tina and Herbie Niblick
He and my grandma Madonna conjured up fifteen kids to fill up an old large white house on Hessen Cassel in Fort Wayne, Indiana. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to go to school with the Niblick kids. My momma has a clue, rumor has it that it was not just one, but at least two of the Niblick boys that she’d dated.
You’ll note that there are just three girls, and twelve strapping handsome boys—my daddy is the long haired one, cross-legged, front and center, Matthew Raymund Morris Michael Niblick.
In 1983 when my daddy died, I remember my momma “getting sad” from a song on the television. It was Judy Collins on the Muppet Show, Send in the Clowns (video below).
Until now, it had never occurred to me whether or not any of her sadness came from the fact that his daddy was a clown,… and how it must feel for a parent to lose their child. Isn’t enough that she was just 21, widowed with two children, and pregnant with her third?
Sometimes life just isn’t fair.
I had wanted to talk to my Grandpa Niblick about his time in Nicaragua. A little bit after my grandma died a few years ago he up and moved to Nicaragua.
It wasn’t entirely shocking as my Aunt Tina had been in Barbados for what seems like forever. She, known in her work as Sister La’el, tells me, “he clowned for MANY years, even while in Nicaragua. During the service years he was also in Africa and Greenland.”
I think it’s only appropriate, twenty eight years later, to play Send in the Clowns.
This time, it’s for my grandpa, who was always the only clown that mattered in my life.
From D.G. Wills Books, Dennis took it off the top shelf for me to gaze at adoringly.
Dad’s statement of events July 10th & 14th
Dad begins with July 10th, as I call him and let him know something strange has happened, but not to worry, I’m fine… I told him I’d explain more whatever it was that had happened after I’d have a few weeks to “come down” from all the drugs they had just pumped into me.
10th? Angela in Hospital 1st time
Get out called, said she — not crazy external —
2 or 3 days later called grounded
euphoric wanted me to promise to come out
had plenty of money, personal chef, chauffeur, etc
→ had to sit down, wanted to walk on beach, had to sit down
14th next day or — Matt called said police called taking her to hospital not coherent
Mom’s statement of events
I knew you were in hospital—how?—I was upset they let you go without us being there for you.
- Mike PERT message.
- Called back spoke to Mike with you in the background,
- Instructed us to call Wednesday… meanwhile…
“Info from family member, probably be taking her to see some drs”—Mike Hammer, July 14th voicemail hides truth; took me to county mental
14th We listened to Matthew (my brother; see note about police above)
15th Carry on all night. Booked flight
16th Left (next morning) [from Charlotte for San Diego]
July 15th: Notes from Momma’s conversation with Barbara
She is still there, the friend was mistaken
AB called & wants me to have her released. I said you are addicted to pot, she said can you call my mother please she can get me released. I said no and hung up. She should be trying you next.
Sticking together here.
Mom: She must have called, couldn’t hear. Is she in Alvarado Hospital?
Don’t know she is in the psychiatric hospital for the county.
Still not ready to listen but on lithium for bipolar.
So she told someone…
I Googled drug interaction tips. Good info. (I meant intervention.)
3853 Rosecrans St.
San Diego 92110
July 17: Notes from Momma’s conversation with Barbara
Definitely caffeine addiction, favorite place Bird Rock Coffee in Bird Rock neighborhood. AB runs their blog —Editor’s note: not true never had anything to do with their blog— she is there every day
Told me tried all hard drugs in South by South West conference in March including LSD —Editor’s note: also not true, as my friends know— May be interacting with other drugs.
Yes did tell me there was an accident but she was all ready not sleeping 5 days when that happened. It was NOT the match so to speak. —Editor’s note: again, read the diary, and you’ll see she got it wrong.
She was brought in by PERT team from Boo Radley‘s house on Saturday a week ago that fact was told to Mike Hammer the PERT officer from her area when she w—
She was picked up on Thursday —again
Editor’s note—Momma is recording notes from her conversation with Barbara and is now piecing together just how long I’ve been MIA in California…
was picked up on Thursday.
She is also bipolar or something other serious psych issue. If you read her blog at SpunkyGidget.com she outlines her issues herself. The by products of bip—
Editor’s note: funny, even momma couldn’t write her notes without breaking here… I’m not bipolar. My mother knows this.
—olor include mania. Paranoia, High sex drive and other factors.
My mother stops taking notes.
“Info from family member, probably be taking her to see some drs”—Mike Hammer
Brother called left voicemail, you called in AM…
[Insert photos of my mother’s documenting the interaction details.]
She used to be the clerk of court for the Statesville, Iredell County, North Carolina courthouse.
“Angie has so much potential. I hope she will work hard to achieve the maximum.”
5th grade, studied Self Actualized Leadership, World Community Systems, Communication & The Media, Science Technology & Energy Sciences, Geometry and Spatial Relationships.
Only satisfactorily respects the ideas and opinions of others and expresses ideas clearly. Noted; something’s don’t change much.
In fifth grade they said I’d never finish, and in 8th grade I knew they were right. In 9th grade I dropped out to go to college, but they wouldn’t let me in until I was 16. Thus I started college on December 1, 1995.
My last “good” report card: Note the number of absences. Never was good at sitting still when bored out of my mind. I have crazy feet, Dr. Seuss diagnosed me so.
Of course, the Mona Lisa, The Beatles, Judy Blume, and Scarlett Johanson remind me of you as well. You seem busy, in all the right ways. I’m glad. 🙂 It would be fun to get coffee with you this Saturday morning. Shall we plan on it? And, have fun with Roxie. 😉 Marlowe says “hi”.—Johnny Fernlund
a homeless person called 911 & reported the client was “5150”
He took the word of the guy he labeled a “transient” “homeless person” over mine taking me while leaving the “homeless person” in my unlocked home…
Read along as I explain what happened the summer of 2011…
July 9, 2011
I’m taken in handcuffs, held and drugged against my will. I was released the next morning.
July 14, 2011
I was again taken, drugged and held against my will.
It is important to note that the paperwork refers to my “mother” who put me in—this is a lie. When my mother found out that I had been institutionalized and immediately bought a ticket to California to rescue me. See also my parents documentation regarding the events, notations regarding timelines and deceptions…
They refused to release me to my mother.
I was held until July 19, 2011 and released by the hospital “against recommendation” just prior to my case being heard by the judge. I was too tired to wait to see a judge to have my ‘case’ heard. So I accepted their offer of release ‘against their recommendation’ instead of waiting and taking my chances with the judge… at that moment being free was more important that exposing injustice.
The above person’s condition was called to my attention under the following circumstances:
Client invited a transient to live with her a week ago. This homeless person called 911 & reported the client was “5150”. Daniel Rhodes 940-217-7649.
Determined that client has not slept in past 3 days, eats little, irrational, talks non-stop to herself, & talks to people not present. Client stays in a tent in her spare room, & the bedding was odorous of urine. Birth mother, Arlene Baxley said client refused from CMH 3 days ago. Hyperactive, illogical and unable to sleep.
The following information has been established: (Please give sufficiently detailed information to support the belief that the person for whom evaluation and treatment is sought is in fact a danger to others, a danger to himself/herself and/or gravely disabled.)
Upon arrival client was hypomanic, hyperverbal, mostly incoherent & unresponsive, illogical, derailed thoughts, rambling, when asked her name she stated “just follow the river to the mountain.”
Birth Surrogate mother, knew client over 10 years stated “She not able to care for herself, she’s not safe, she’s not in the real world”, Barbara Yager, 803-487-1502. Barbara explained client in TX for anxiety since 2007 believes client is bipolar.
Based upon the above information it appears there is probable cause to believe that said person is, as a result of a mental disorder:
Client has no viable plan for self care.
⌧ Gravely disabled adult
As evaluated by,
Mike F. Hammer, LCSW #0494, 7/14/11 11:30am, 619-884-5149
Norther SDPD PERT, 1401 Broadway San Diego, CA 92130
Bringing Down the Hammer
What does it matter that if a person is transient or not when it comes to determining the case? “Daniel” has a driver’s license with a respectable address, is known in the neighborhood, and it’s simply Hammer’s judgmental attitude showing immediately in the documentation when he calls the person reporting a “transient”. (That’s “Daniel” photographed below.)
Likewise, you can’t say I invited him to live with me, and then call him homeless. As a matter of fact, he lived with me until the end of the summer. You see, after getting out I made sure I wasn’t going to have been punished for inviting a transient homeless man live with me and not actually have him live with me!
has not slept past 3 days
At this point it should be pointed out the confusion between Hammer referring to my “birth” mother and a “surrogate” mother, both individuals he refers to being in North Carolina, and thus says who, the homeless transient who lives with me? Meanwhile, ironically, not sleeping had everything to do with having been drugged against my will on July 9th, 2011.
My mother notes that I had a refrigerator full of food.
I had a friend, Lea Dennis, prepare some amazing food (see below) which stocked the refrigerator.
I’m also known for my routine coffee—and occasional pastry—at Bird Rock Coffee Roasters, to be followed by brunch at a diner, like Harry’s or Cass Street.
I plan my day around food.
Should I have to prove that I eat enough food so as not to be institutionalized? Whose right is it to judge me?—and on what days? To come into my home, and to take me away, and to hold me, and drug me, against my wishes?
My Mint.com transactions for the “Food & Dining” category for July 1, 2011 – July 15, 2011 are below.
I don’t have a surrogate mother.
I’m not, nor ever have been, bipolar. See my Mom’s notes on the false documentation. Saying a thing doesn’t make it so. Making lots of documentation about it doesn’t make it so. Institutionalizing me and treating me for it still doesn’t make it true.
So July 2011 overnight on the 9th, and from the 14th through the 19th I was held in mental institution under the recommendation of someone who called 911 from North Carolina about a person in California. This person was not my mother—my mother flew to California to rescue me, but San Diego County Psychiatric Hospital refused to release me, even to my mother’s care.
On July 19th rather than allowing me to see the judge they planned for the “AMA” release.
That’s my dog Roxie. I got her back, but we were only together for a few days before she died—run over before my eyes.
The cops would come to my door one more time that summer to threaten to take me away.
“Pet owner who is 5150 and is going to county mental health dog had marijuana and other poisons. Dog was on its side not responding when I first arrived. After a few min dog became alert.”
They tested her for drugs twice failing to find any evidence to substantiate Mike Hammer’s report. Roxie wasn’t unresponsive on her side when he arrived—she was resting in my lap. Hence, see, trouble: I was unable to allow Mike Hammer into my home, as I was sitting on the couch with my dog asleep on my lap… so, let’s talk about due process.
‘wow, I haven’t seen you since you were, like, a teenager!’ — Darryl messaged Angela
First Facebook message July 12, 2011 7:05pm
“Ang just thought she saw your Angela.” — Mom responds to Darryl
Momma responded July 20, 2011 5:13am
Via SMS; Accepted Facebook Friend Request: August 8, 2011 6:29am.
I saw her first.
Well I spent the day bumbling through my daily Bird Rock walk. The 3am walk with random neighbors brought me a philosophy student from Oxford and his two friends. We walked the darkness towards light as I wove the stories that keep the memories bright. Ever haunted by the corner where you turn left, inevitably to miss the home of my charming Chandler and the woman he loved.
We walked to our cultural center, known to the outside as Bird Rock Coffee Roasters, or just “Bird Rock” to us. I told the story of the families memories that haunt me, the jukebox that should be and the future that seems unsought.
Back home, I slept the rest of the night, as it seems I’m on a 4 hours on, 4 hours off schedule. I think about all the Microsoftie’s who brag on the few hours they can live on. I miss my eight solid hours. It seems the culprit may be the intense bright light across the street which shines in on my bedroom… well, until last night when a stranger took to removing the bulb leaving me to sleep in peace. I think of circadian rhythms and how my sleep cycle was affected by the lack of sun living in Seattle.
The day? Well, that’s the usual stuff you know. I went to Bird Rock, met and talked to the new people, the by now old friends. A potter chose a bike for me, as it’s obvious to all that I need a bike rack. Off I went in pursuit, first leaving my car to have the convertible repaired, on foot.
That’s when I ran into Loni and her puppies, and Rosie became Roxie as our bond formed in the serendipitous sunlight of the day.
My walk home (the bike abandoned, what would I do with a bike and a dog?!) was long but a labor of love. I wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible in transition. It’s so easy to see the “humaness” of an animal. Their eyes tell all, their body language. … I think of my own body language and wonder what it is that makes some so afraid of me while others so delighted.
I met the brains behind an outfit on Bird Rock’s main drag. I’ll leave that to later, as he may wish to introduce himself.
Rosie (not yet Roxie) and I crossed paths with a jogging Physics teacher from Bishops, and the day progressed into kind of intelligent conversation on which I thrive.
Here I am, 10pm and tired. A amber colored silken Roxie by my side, and thinking of how much more of the day I’ve failed to recount. I’m sure it’ll be fine, as tomorrow begins anew with more stories.
I’m looking forward to working my crew tomorrow. Plans are exceedingly underway. Larry comes in about three weeks from LA. Ori and Tara likely sooner. I go to San Francisco (oh, how I hate to leave my little stretch of Windansea/Bird Rock) to meet the founder of Burning man on the 19th. (Heads up you SF’ers!)
Time seems so short between now and Nicaragua. I can’t wait to see Gaia though. Turns out the physicist has the same plan, long term.
Most of all, I can’t wait to introduce Roxie to Kingston.
“If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber’d here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call; So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.”—Dead Poets Society
My spirit carries no bruises, though my skin tells tales.
Tonight I lay my head down in peace, and Roxie lays her next to mine in a symbol of her humane love. I wonder if she misses her babies, as I adore mine.
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar: I love not man the less, but Nature more.”—Lord Byron
One Saturday night I accepted a date from a stranger, a man I now refer to as ‘the Boo Radley’. I had already had plans to go see Gregory Page play at the Westgate, and so I met him for wine, and he joined me for the show…
When you fall in love, you can’t eat, you can’t sleep. But it didn’t happen quite like that, then again, this isn’t a story about falling in love. I love food, I love my sleep, and for the moment, I might have thought I loved him. Alas, while I ate with a passion, as I usually do, loved like it was for only a moment, as one should, I did indeed miss my sleep…
We’d met that weekend, a weekend of fireworks—hey! don’t judge—I say that with only a touch of corniness, it was July 4th, after all.
Give me a break, as much as this isn’t a love story, it is a crazy one, and as with the best of them, it begins with that classic boy-meets-girl moment. Continue reading
Stephen Jenvey, as per my style I am listening to waves crash to some
[thesaurus: words for beautiful sounds; retrieve:images, music; sort: color, timbre; todo:look for a better word here. i’m trying to capture how magical it is to be able to think freely and design the future because you can see clearly, now the rain is gone.]
does that designer language speak to your interface?
Date: Friday, September 7, 2007 at 1:35 AM
To: Brian Goldfarb <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Subject: to tell the truth
Here’s one of those moments where I’m sad and vulnerable. I want to thrash myself, and thought like “I suck” come to mind. I say no wonder why I’m not wanted. I’m a disappointment to everyone I try to love.
I’m sad and I miss my dad. I see you talk to your parents and wonder what it would be like to have that. I believe my dad would love me regardless… I know he’d be disappointed in me, but he’d let me come and cry in his arms. He’d pat my head and tell me everything would be alright. He’d let me call and tell him how my heart hurts even in the middle of the night.
They say I was daddy’s girl.
you are my best friend, and you always want to be my best friend
as my best friend you love me and want the best for me, for me to be healthy and safe
your finest moments in loving me are in my worst moments of living where you demonstrate just that. you put yourself and your heart and your feelings aside to care for me, to take care of me, to help me heal, so that i may one day become a secure and confident woman as i remember being as a little girl.
this all feels fantastic. this feels like what love should be. i don’t know what love is, but if it isn’t that, what else is there?
then i am sad.
this is my messed up logic.
what point is there in becoming that amazing me that you and and i believe in, if it isn’t for you? why would you invest so much in me and treasure the outcome? why would you love me so much and not love me?
there are many things i don’t understand. this is the one that overshadows me every day, and has since the spring.
all my logic can do is to say that you don’t love me in that way. but i don’t know what it is that would be missing so that could possibly be true. we connect by just looking into each others eyes when we lay our heads down beside each other. we connect in the most intimate of movements and motion.
so when i lose my sense of self and i say over and over “i don’t understand”, maybe you can at least understand what i mean.
i’m just emailing. i don’t want responses. i just want to share. i want to send the thoughts from the deepest depths of exploring my heart and soul out there into the world to the only one i put faith in.
if we aren’t lovers at least being friends can really mean something.
if i can’t be loved, i just want to be understood.
i was content today when you guys came to see eilon’s house. you seemed happy and i was happy. at little sad, but happy. that made me happy. to see you at ease, relaxed.
Blogs are a new medium of communication which is accessible to anyone with the ability to use the Internet. With the demonstrated power and reach of blogs it is important to examine this medium and the subsequent impact which it may have on mass media. Continue reading
The Internet is a pervasive medium that enhances personal communication, access to information, and freedom of speech, while making obsolete borders, reversing isolation even as it reduces tactile and direct experiences with real people, which retrieves a sense of tribalism a global village.
By means of the Internet, the ways in which we can communicate have been forever enhanced. The Internet is here to stay and it will ever continue to grow in popularity. Continue reading
Date: Wednesday, February 7, 2007 at 11:59 PM
To: Angela Baxley <email@example.com>
Subject: Re: my space plus some, ok a lot
hey got your note and forwarded it to Vanessa. Thanks.
Love the family pics. The last time I saw your mom and dad was in 1994? and I think that was probably the last time I saw Matthew, Heather and Erin to. I still find it strange to call him your dad since I can actually remember knowing your dad.
Do you remember much of your dad? My guess would be more from stories than experiences, though I have no idea of course. Have you ever seen the picture of your dad holding me on his shoulders and we’re pointing toward the sky. I remember that day. Everyone was at our house in Van Wert for BBQ and a storm came rolling in and the clouds were moving really fast and that’s what we were looking at in the picture. Its funny the things we remember I can almost remember the conversation, that is to say I can remember hearing them talking to each other and to me. I do remember a bit it was about the storm and the way the wind and clouds were that day. I remember coming down from his shoulders to, mostly the way it felt. Funny the things we remember. I like that memory.
I remember another time at your house in Ft Wayne when I asked about a string art picture they had on the wall. It was a boat I think, a sailboat. I remember looking at it on a table and seeing how the strings were pulled tight around little nails and formed into the picture. I think you were looking at it to, do you remember that? Then I think for some reason we were in a hurry to get somewhere. We walked out the back door and it was dark out. That’s it nothing else on that one. Except that at sometime you and Heather took a bath.
I also remember when they told me he had been in an accident. I was worried. Then I was angry when he died. Not because he died really but because he may not have had to. I remember grandma Schaadt was really angry over it to. I don’t remember who told me but I remember exactly what they said. I think grandma and grandpa still have that motorcycle.
Every time I see a picture of John Lennon with a beard I think of your dad.
Sorry if any of this brings up a bad memory or makes you sad. I just thought you’d like to know and hear something about your dad you may not have known or heard before.
I love you,
P. S. – I know this probably sounds really wrong, so take it for the meaning and not the sound, if you weren’t my cousin you’d definitely be on the “hotty” list. I think you’re really doing great and I envy you a lot for getting to travel so much and to have disposable income, what a new concept. I’m really happy for you. can’t wait to see you.
From: East Coast Hottie
To: East Coast Hottie
From: East Coast Hottie
From: East Coast Hottie
On 9/30/99, 5:14 AM, “angela.benson” <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote:
To: elmojo <email@example.com>
Subject: Re: Sure I do! 🙂
What that thingy at the bottom?
Well we’ve talked, but he’s heavily influenced by his mother. I found the
lyrics to his music, and together with the Awake magizine have found out a
major problem. The music has blocked the holy spirit from us and our house. I
got rid of it (sent it up to him) yesterday. Last night I was able to say a
prayer. It was coherent, focused, and not interrupted by thoughts. Before last
night, I wasn’t able to and really had stopped for a long time trying.
I slept on my tummy stretched out on the bed (gotta take advantage of it while
I can!). My back was unprotected to the “world”. But I didn’t feel vulnerable,
or worried. I slept with a smile on my face, and feel asleep at a reasonable
The music is our problem, just the catalyst. It doesn’t matter how hard we
would try to fix anything without the holy spirit (and add to it the negative
influence and views of the music) we couldn’t get anywhere.
So now. THis morning he called, and told me he was going this weekend to get
his drum set. I told him he couldn’t do that until he had seperation papers
written up. (His car and drum set are the only things holding him to the
marriage materially.) So he basically can’t do that (he doesn’t have any
money). He also wanted the old furniture to take with him. (It’s all mine,
gifts from co-workers, etc.) I told him he’d have to pay me what we were going
to sell it for. ($150) OR
The deal. (a.k.a. The Challenge)
He comes down, stays in the house, and goes to work, the meetings and service.
Two weeks. If in two weeks he’s ready to leave, I get the papers, give him the
furniture, and help him load the truck. And he can say he tried.
I put faith in Jehovah that that music is like the Awake said, that
influencial, and by removing that variable from our relationship, coupled with
his taking the St. John’s Wort & Magnesium, and an open mind, we have a
fighting chance. All it takes is Jehovah’s holy spirit flowing again.
Anyways, there goes… write me back, and tell me what you think. I’m offended
by the Teddy Bear thing. I needed it, but I don’t anymore!
elmojo <firstname.lastname@example.org> on 09/29/99 09:23:01 AM
Please respond to elmojo <email@example.com>
To: Angela M. Benson/USA/BAC@NATIONSBANK
Subject: Sure I do! 🙂
SORRY!! PLEEEEZ FORGIVE ME!!!
I wasn’t able to check my email since sunday night. Julie says I can’t give
you the bear, she has claimed it for her own! You know, the old ‘what’s
mine is yours and yours is mine’ thing. I can’t blame her though, it is
So, what’s the news? Fill me in… COMEON!!
Gotta split, keep strong!
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com
On 9/30/99, 5:13 AM,”angela.benson” <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote:
Subject: Guess what!
I told you last night how I collected Brads music (on Monday night) together
and shipped it out to him yesterday. What I didn’t know was how big of a
difference it would make.
Gregg, I prayed and prayed, the four nights I stayed there by myself. I
couldn’t seem to keep my concentration or focus to be able to finish a prayer
at a time though. I kept feeling uncomfortable in a “I need to get over it”
way. I thought I was just afraid of being alone there at night. I went to sleep
when I was thoroughly exhausted.
Last night I didn’t have any feeling of paranoia. I stretched out comfortably,
and didn’t worry about which direction my back was facing, or feeling
“vulnerable”. I said my prayer, it was complete, focused and made sense. I fell
asleep with a smile on my face. The house settling noises were still there, but
they didn’t make me jump, or my heart pound out of my chest.
I don’t care what anyone else thinks. There is a difference, and there’s only
one thing missing from that one night to the next. It even “screwed up” my
prayers. It wasn’t exhaustion either. If I was exhausted, I couldn’t have
prayed better than all the other nights. It only took one prayer, and it made
sense, with a beginning, body, and end, without interruptions.
I wish that there was some way to convey the peace that I felt, how comfortable
I was able to feel to Brad. It’s a big deal that I slept on my tummy. I left my
back open to the world. Even when Brad was there I would sleep with my back to
him, and until he came to bed not be able to sleep.
I used to pray ALL THE TIME. Once when I was working with my pioneer partner I
had asked her, how often do you pray? (Thinking of the scripture, you know the
one, when you lay down, get up….) She said all day. That’s when I started
having conversations with Jehovah.
Anyways, I just talked to Brad. He called to tell me that he’s coming this
weekend to pick up his drum set. To me that’s an indication of separation. I
told him he would need to bring papers with him, because I couldn’t allow him
to take that (for that reason) with out it being “legal”. He also asked to have
the old furniture (it’s mostly all mine). I told him that with the situation
that I am left in I need the money from it, whether its him or anyone else,
because as he said this isn’t about love anymore.
Then I proposed a deal.
The hard way: just as I told him- separation papers for him to pick up his drum
set, pay for the furniture if he wants it, and it’s over.
The easy way: since he’s coming anyways, stay for two weeks. Go to work, the
meetings, service, and family bible study. No music (he’ll leave with his mom),
pornography, and his has to take his St. John’s Wort & Magnesium (and before he
gets here so it kicks in). Have an open mind. He doesn’t have to talk to me,
sleep in our room, or even touch me. (Hopefully he will give it an open mind so
he will stick around the house for us to interact.) If in two weeks he ready to
leave again I will give him the furniture, I’ll get the papers, and I’ll even
help him load the U-Haul truck. And he case say “I gave it a fair shot”.
What do you think? If he needs to talk to someone to discuss whether he should
or not, would you (instead of Pam)? And if he decides to take the easy way,
will you talk to him to get him in the right frame of mind when he gets here?
I’m not planning an attack, just allowing Jehovah’s holy spirit to do it’s
work, with the right actions in place.
Please write back. And thank you very much for talking to me last night.
From: “Angela M.
Date: Tuesday, September 28, 1999 at 6:11 PM
To: Gregg Benson <email@example.com>
Subject: Fw: From your loving wife…
This was a night where it was bad. I wrote this sitting in the dark. I put the knife under my bed this night. I thought he would try to kill me (inadvertently) after he found out what I wrote and told his mom. I told her everything. He didn’t have anything to worry about. She told me I was the problem. That I needed help. I don’t remember what happened. But it was like the rest of them.