If they take me to jail at least you all will know! THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE! ❤ ❤ ❤
Today was the hearing. Jade, the judge’s clerk, told me to call tomorrow to see what the judge has decided to do. Now I’m thinking, today was such a pretty day even though I came in and napped a lot. I read too. I’ll read some more then will fall asleep. Tomorrow is supposed to be pretty too. Knowing tomorrow isn’t going to change anything. All through this anything coming out of the courts has not been good for me. I don’t think I will call tomorrow. I think I will enjoy tomorrow. I will enjoy the rest of the week. I will wait for either the Sheriff to show up to arrest me, or I’ll wait for whatever comes through the mail telling me that I’ve been saved from the devil. I’ve done all that I can do to save myself. I’ve had some friends trying to help save me too who have done all that they can do. Now I am going to stay relaxed until whatever happens does.
I have a friend who is dealing with something terrible in the courts too and she is stuck with a public defender who is a jerk. Right now she is being given the option to plea and accept something like a $35,000 fine and one year probation (!) (does that even correlate) or take the matter back to trial due to Brady and other violations, including exculpatory evidence having been withheld. Because of all the evidence proving her innocence she expected the judge was going to dismiss. She was wondering tonight to me why the judge didn’t just dismiss it. The only thing I could say is that they always have to be doing something. I don’t know why they don’t just dismiss. But I told her I would never make a plea deal. Being found guilty of something we did not do will never bode well for us.
Look what Leroy McCullough did to me. And then the man who was freaking out because he’d raped me turned that into something against me with the King County Crisis & Commitment Services. The Kent cops knew something was seriously wrong. They’ve always got to be doing something. But, oh, not taking reports. Oh no they can’t take reports. How many have I tried to make? Yet they can take tons of them from the rapist. Go figure. I wish more people slept in and skipped doing something. If they did then we’d all be a lot richer and a lot better off. It still amazes me these people can get their clutches into us, even rape us, then rip our lives apart because they have to be doing something. Sleep in, people! Do us the favor, please!
Thank you people! Wow! Thank you.
Now its 11,989! 🙂
Mill concedes that following convention may lead a person to a satisfying life path and keep him out of harm’s way. “But what will be his comparative worth as a human being?” he asks. “It really is of importance, not only what men do, but also what manner of men they are that do it.”
Wow! And that was written in 1859.
If not for that I got screwed out of the $325 and was frightened to death being pulled out of a safe place, I’d sort of be laughing. Its hard to laugh though, except that I have a good nature. Maybe, though, this really is the end of all of what’s been being done to me. Maybe, they will arrest Kevin. Maybe, yesterday that was their way of saying they’re sorry. It can happen, right?
There was a question about what we would change in our lives if we could. On the most part I’ve liked my life. I don’t even mind about the terrible things because its all taught me a lot about myself that is better that how it is for people who have had it easy. By easy, I am talking about people who have never really known adversity. There ARE people like that. And, sort of, as parents we try to make it so that our kids don’t have the same adversities. Being a parent is hard when we’ve had our own adversity. Anyway for me it was. I was always struggling a) to not be at our house the way my mom was in her house (no offense to my mom because she did some wonderful things too, and honestly I remember those things much more often than I think about the crappy things. That’s the way resilient kids are) and b) I wanted to raise my son to be independent, strong and to think for himself. Yes, thinking for himself was important to me. So where many people want their kids to be popular or to know how to get along, I always wanted my son to see how important it is to think for himself. I think I did a good job with him. Maybe I’m not perfect but I do think he’s gotten the gist. And Jackie O once said to the affect that if we bung up our kids nothing else we succeed in life at really matters. I’m proud of my son. I think he’s gotten all of the good qualities of myself, his father, his step father, my mom and my dad. On his own he is popular, and he’s got a good sense of family and a good sense of community too. Yep, I’m proud of him. I think he’s seen adversity. No! I KNOW he’s seen adversity. I think like most kids do, he might wish he’d have listened more. But that’s okay. Not listening all of the time is part of what it takes to develop a free thinking person.
If I had to do it all over again, and could change one thing what I would change would be reading. We weren’t raised with reading.
Ed Taylor, my neighbor in Kent before he died, used to set almost every night to read. We would see him across the way from our big window into his big window, and there he’d be reading. I’ve read on my own but not as much as I wish I would have done. Sure, I read The Red Pony, The Outsiders, A Wrinkle In Time and Gone With The Wind, but that’s all fiction. The books I wish I’d have been introduced to would be philosophy and the truly deep thinking of the likes of Karl Marx. A woman told me, after I’d read The Communist Manifesto and said that it was incredible, that he was truly a genius. She said but sadly, probably for money, he ended up manipulated by Engels who was a Freemason with an agenda. I believe that. And maybe I’m missing something in The Communist Manifesto but what I read, right or wrong, the dude was practically a prophet. So maybe it was The Communist Manifesto that’s inspired me. Not that I’m a Communist. The book I read didn’t have that list of how to take over that everyone refers to. Maybe there’s a second volume. I don’t know. I do see one of Amazon called Manifesto of the Communist Party. Maybe that’s it. All I know is that not even Alister McGrath’s The Big Question has inspired me the way Karl Marx has. The woman told me to get Das Kapital: A Critique of Political Economy that was written before Engel’s influence.
But right now I’m reading Justice, What’s The Right Thing To Do. In it there’s a quote so intriguing to me that I want to read the book it came from and I’ll put the quote here. It is from a man named Mills, and his book was On Liberty. He says, “The human faculties of perception, judgment, discriminative feeling, mental activity, and even moral preference, are exercised only in making a choice. He who does anything because it is in the custom, makes no choice. He gains no practice either in discerning or in desiring what is best. The mental and moral, like the muscular powers, are improved only by being used……He who lets the world, or his own portion of it, choose his plan of life for him, has no need of any other faculty than the ape like one of imitation. He who chooses his plan for himself, employs all his faculties.”
Yesterday morning while I was slumped into the back corner at the courthouse everything was gone. I could not even muster the sense of understanding what really was going on. In a way, I could laugh about it, sort of, right now. Except the truth is that the psych drugs and what Kevin did to me destroyed me, and instead of people actually helping me they have done me more harm. What the officer bad perm did just to see what emotional trauma looks like, if that’s what she was doing, wasn’t funny. It wasn’t funny, although I guess the Chief got a chuckle with the Sheriff over it when they came here with the papers being delivered from the rapist’s attorney.
This, whatever its been, between Kevin with me has not been right. Its been wrong. Its the same as what was done to me by Dr. Sargent and his cronies, and they too got their chuckles over it. But what they have done is violence. Its been a violence that Kevin has been thinking he would get by with. Maybe he will. I won’t know until tomorrow.
What I do know is that he’s been directing everything along the way. He, and with people who have been manipulating things. When Kevin told Judge Finkle that when this is over he wants me to know that he doesn’t ever want to see me again, he’d better have meant it. But all along I figured he was just saying that for his ego. Maybe he didn’t know it, whatever “it” has been, would go on this long. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe he just wanted to fuck with my head making me wonder. Either way, or no way, he’s never let up. Either way, he’s a sociopath who sodomized me and there is nothing funny about that. Either way, if he ever shows up here I will kill him. There is no doubt about it. I’m sure I’m not the first person who has said that to him and I do believe the prevailing bullshit of taking me in front of the easily impressed Judge Finkle was for his own ego more than anything else. There was no reason for Kevin to do that, except for fuck with me. He had Nazarita make that weird sound that she’d made before on the phone when he had her on it although I didn’t know who she was. He’s been fucking with me all along, and he’s been using people through Facebook and even in my personal life to do it. I really don’t care what his purpose is, or even if there is any purpose at all. The only thing that I do know is that if I ever see him I will kill him. That he can take to the bank.
If the judge wants to issue a two way restraining order she is more than welcome to do that. Because I do need protection from that asshole, and he ought to be put into jail. Oh, except the Seattle P.D. and all of the I.T. guys are masturbating over what he’s done. For that reason I’ve had to take matters into my own hands, and I did that right here.
In the past I was rooting for Kevin to get well. I don’t do that anymore because now more than ever I know he has been getting money to do this while I’ve been being driven into the ground. Maybe if I’d had a chance to read more while I was growing up I’d have seen the freight train coming. But probably not, because he’s screwed over some pretty intelligent people. For me the whole problem was the psych drugs and all of the losses they have caused me because the doctor’s group and their insurance is more interested in killing us. Kind of like Jamie Dimon who said at the University of Washington that they always expect to lose some. Its all in their numbers. They decide the winners and the losers, and they refuse to deviate. What they make off the Big Pharma is worth the losses of life. What they’ve paid to judges under the table, to attorneys and to Boileau to get rid of me has probably cost them more than if they’d just made a settlement to help me. Instead Dr. Sargent chose the low road. He’s a piece of shit. So is his dad and relative CEO. Chances are so is his kids.
So, no, when I start to chuckle at myself I have to stop. Because there’s not one single thing they’ve done to me that is funny. And if I see Kevin around here I WILL kill him. He can take that to court. OH, and by the way. He should be receiving shortly a summons by the courts here for him to come to Ohio, and when he does I’ll have with me a gun so that I can kill him if he does show up.
He sodomized me, and that isn’t funny.
Can you hear me now?
Its hard too. Especially at my age, with all of the experiences.
But I remember when we were kids my mom would tell me to stop second guessing her! Well, heck, why shouldn’t I when I knew what was coming? I was the middle daughter between two perfect ones, so in my position even if I didn’t do it I did. Yes, that is how it was. Its true. Its not that my mom was any nicer to them, per se. It was just that they never got, or very rarely, got the snots knocked out of them for things they did and I always got the snots knocked out of me for things I didn’t do that they did. It was a very strange dynamic to navigate. And to be honest I never really did learn to navigate it.
Its still talked about today of the time when my little sister called me while she was between jobs living at home with my mom and dad. She told me she’d called the police to take my mom’s guns. Well my mom’s guns happened to be a couple of antique rifles that belonged to her brother. No big deal, probably hadn’t been shot in 40 years or more. But my sister and my mom were fighting. My mom was always fighting with us. I don’t know why. Even living away from my mom on the phone she’d start a fight. It was weird. My own house wasn’t operated that way. I didn’t like to fight. Neither did Don. But if a fight came my way I wasn’t one to back down either. I guess y’all have already figured that out. What I hated, though, was when my sisters were fighting with my mom. Because that was always, inevitably, going to end up in my lamp with me getting the snots knocked out of me. And that was no different on the day when my sister called to ask if she could come over because mom was going to kill her for calling the police to have the guns taken away. Of course I asked her why she did that, and she did because she was afraid mom was going to kill herself with them. Well, because I knew this was going to end in my lap, when my mom called over to my house to talk to Tammy (or yell and scream at her anyway) she started yelling and screaming at me instead. sigh, so that I said well maybe she should have let you keep the guns to kill yourself with, I don’t know. I wasn’t there. Wow, that was the wrong thing to say. But really it never mattered what I said or didn’t say. Either way I was going to end up at the short end of the stick. I got to be that I quit answering my phone. But that day I answered and said what took my mom’s focus off of my sister and put it onto myself. Typical. It was the routine. So the next thing I knew my mom was in my driveway. I happened to be out there because some friends had stopped by so we were there chatting. Then my mom stormed up and started beating me up. I was like….28 years old, I think, and there was my mom beating me up and pulling my hair right there in front of my friends. Then my little sister was out there kicking off her shoes and calling my mom out. Well that was a new twist I kind of appreciated, and it seemed to back my mom down. But it was what it was. I hated it.
It never took much to second guess my mom. When it came to the three of us I was going to lose. And that seems to have become my legacy. But through it all what I’ve figured out is that when I’ve second guessed its always left me more prepared then if I just set around today pretending the judge might do what is right for me instead of what is right to the real bad guys. I’m sure the judge would hate me for second guessing what she’s doing today, but at 62 11/12 years old I’m kind of used to being prepared. I don’t think that is anxiety. Its just reality. The same reality that allowed Chief Chuck to cost me $325 two weeks ago. The same reality that yesterday the court pretended to me to be nice guys while they were screwing me out of $85. If not for that I’m worn down yesterday I would have given them hell and I would have walked out of there not owing a dime. I should have walked out of there not owing a dime. I don’t owe these fucking people. Its funny how they seem to think I owe them something.
They put me on the dark sidewalk in the night all alone to walk home. They did that knowing very well a man who’s sodomized me, and has been stalking me for years had threatened to shoot me to the authorities and had only recently said on the internet that he’s coming here to Ohio. Oh, yah, now he’s on the internet pretending he’s traveling all around the country, meeting with professionals, not just coming here. He’s trying to pretend we’ve all totally misunderstood and he is the victim. No, he’s not. He’s a grifter always running away from what he does to other people. Anyway, this isn’t about him. Its about them, and how they put me on the street in the dark alone to walk home knowing there is a predator out there that I am afraid of. Then yesterday because the guilt of it haunted someone, they took me aside to screw me over instead of screwing me over in front of everyone where they knew I’d go berserk.
I fucking hate these people. And the reason I hate them is because they all think I owe them something. They think they have the rights when in reality they do not.
Am I second guessing the judge today? I don’t think I am. Maybe she wouldn’t like what it is that I’m thinking, because nobody likes to be second guessed. But really it isn’t second guessing. Its just knowing the reality. And yesterday proved the reality that they are going to screw up no matter what. So its possible this day will be my last day to post. Probably the judge won’t see the difference between my blog and Kevin’s. She might make him take down his too. But probably not. She’ll make me take down mine not caring for that its being here is telling the truth. And they do hate the truth. I don’t know how they live with themselves, really. Oh, I forgot. Its because you all let them.
I’ve done my part.
Right now I am speaking as an adult. As an adult who looks at these people wondering why they can’t do what is right. But, no, they’ve got to do something for the BAR. Kevin knows it. It works it. Judge Kato should have denied the restraining order. She should have read what Nazarita handed her to see that it didn’t even support what they’d said. Instead she was moved to disgust by the man who I said raped me. When I said that she should have thrown him out. But she had to do something. And look what that’s done.
Then there was Judge McCullough. Judge Middaugh wasn’t going for that Multicare crap! That’s why they moved it to McCullough. So he had to do something for the BAR. If he’d have read or listened to what I gave and presented he would have thrown them out. But, no, he had to do something. So he bullied me and gave them their order. And Kevin used knowing about that with the King County Crisis & Commitment Services.
They have taken everything that’s been done to me and have made it all against me. I asked the judge’s clerk Jade if the judge will even read those things that have been sent. She didn’t seem so sure. And why would I think anybody would? Nobody has so far. Not even did the police read the report that King County Crisis and Commitment Services made to them even though the police now say they sent it to the City Prosecutor. No they didn’t. Just like everything else, what I send disappears. That Judge Rosen said there is no way to know how many people are in Kevin’s group, and Kevin says there is thousands, that Judge Rosen said that…..its disappeared. You know, file retention rules and all, right? So Kevin claims to have thousands in his group and says he’s going to be around for years to come. What does that mean about me?
Well if the judge reads she’ll see that I’m asking for protection. I’ve given her a lot to think about, if she reads it.
Now I set and wait until tomorrow. That’s what Jade, her clerk, told me to do. So that’s all I can do. I’m trying not to second guess anyone, though. I’m going to go outside. Its pretty today.
Maybe it is hard not to sell the soul when we want to become great. Maybe it starts with illusions of grandeur that gradually turns into delusions. Or maybe its the opposite. Either way I suppose its hard when there becomes an entourage, a group of clinger on that are dependents. I suppose that can weigh someone down, too, or lift them higher. Its hard to say. I just think it was funny that day when I read that letter I was going to send out and realized I was being delusional. Hahahaha! Its possible if I’d sent it out it could have gotten some attention. But that isn’t what I wanted to say, really. Am I better or worse for it? I don’t know. I can only say that isn’t what I wanted. Not because I didn’t want to be successful or to be a hotshot. Its just that I’m not a great thinker. I’m just a kid from the trailer park in Barstow on the Indian reservation. Customer service is my background. I don’t want to be a rock star. I don’t want to create a legacy, to be somebody. I just love to help people and I don’t want to sell or lose my soul doing it. That’s all.
I’ve just made this old post from 4 years ago public. When Facebook shares memories it has been incredible to see. Sometimes sad, sometimes happy, but mostly insightful to what I’ve gone through, where I’m at in it, and measuring whether or not I’ve come a long way or if I’m still deteriorating. I think I am still deteriorating. I think that is because I haven’t been let alone by predators We will never heal until the predators self correct. They won’t, and yesterday was proof of that. They will always demand from us to take what is not theirs. That fact gives me little hope today is going to be any different, although today what was submitted to the court was done with assistance. But, still, I don’t have an attorney. But, still, my rapist is an attorney, too. And the Seattle Police Department is off the hook. They are all the same. They have immunity so that they can indulge in all of their sicknesses and deviations while judging us with less. Its a strange dynamic. So, has Facebook really been my savings grace? Does it really matter? Well, it does to me. And today Facebook gave me the memory from 4 years ago to see. What I see is the event that made me realize just how emotionally messed up I was. Of course this memory, this event occurred in on April 20, 2014, which was a year and a half after I’d tried to kill myself with wine and Ativan, so I guess its safe to say I was already pretty fucked up by Boileau. King County Crisis & Committment Services had already reported to the Seattle Police Department that the man was a danger to me. Yet there I was in April 2014 still trying to be productive, still trying to heal myself, still going at it while I continued falling apart. I’m still going at it. Its all we can do. And at least I’ve got a warm bed and a place to stay. A whole lot of people who have gone or been going through this don’t or are dead. And nobody cares. That is what is amazing. Nobody cares, and it is true. Well, Dr. Hicks did care. He was an amazing guy from Ohio who saw that the anti marijuana lobby is a racket. He saw that big pharma and psych drugs was too. Both Dr. Hicks and Dr. Rob’s word inspired me to keep going, to keep trying. They knew. They were professionals who knew. So while I was there, having made the trek from Washington to Colorado in April 2014 what I learned was twofold. I realized that I was so emotionally devastated that I’d lost control of myself from fear. It was when I first realized just how deeply I’d been traumatized, never mind that I’d already tried to kill myself right? Also I learned that there really were other ways besides big pharma and western practicing greedy pig doctors and psychiatrists. Maybe April 2014 really was the beginning for me towards recovery because for the first time I was fairly surrounded by people who knew there was more than what the main stream was feeding us that is killing us. Its good for me to see those memories, and its possible today the judge is going to make me take them down because a criminal attorney is practicing against me for the man who has helped cause all of this destruction in my life. The idea that the judge would go against me is insane, but then again look at the insanity that’s been dumping down on me since Multicare. Is it so unusual that I still don’t believe in this system’s self correcting? I don’t think it is. I think if the system fixes this it would be by a miracle. And the rapist is still on the internet saying that he’ll be broadcasting for years to come, so nothing has changed. But for now I’m looking at the memories of April 2014, remembering how that is when I realized that I was not safe among people anymore, and that whatever I did to fix myself I was going to have to do myself because there was nothing left. All was gone. The trip in 2014 was the last of what little money I had left. It was not just that way with me but it was that way with a lot of people who scraped together to be there. And then Kannaway ended up screwing us over. It did not deliver on its promises that if we supported them in those early days they would make sure that we succeeded along with them. They lied, too. Billy Funk, Charles Vest, Christopher Hussey, and all of them. Instead of building under us they figured out ways to build around us, having taken our money, made themselves CBD rock stars, and left us hanging without a dime. They did exactly what the writer for The Stranger told me they would do, because it was the same thing they’d done in real estate lending too. They were the option arm crowd. The same creeps out of Santa Rosa, the same kind of creeps that were running Absolute Loans & Pinnacle that screwed me over big time too. So what makes me think this will be any different today. The creep Kevin’s hired is one of them, and they are a bread. So he’ll probably wear his leather loafers and silk suit, with his recently coiffed hair into the courtroom to tell the judge it doesn’t matter that I was raped by a pscyho analyst attorney or that he lied to incite the court to get a restraining order that he didn’t deserve. The odds that the judge will not be impressed is good. Just like Leroy McCullough wasn’t impressed by Cheryl Comer either because he knew she didn’t know what she was doing. Well she knew, but she was new at it, so he’d have to do the job for her. And for that he wasn’t impressed. Its hard to say what today’s judge will do, but the one thing we can know for sure is that whether or not she is impressed she and the criminal puke belong to the same country club just as if its the same church. So its a crap shoot at best. It is what it is but chances are they’ll have to leave a piece of my flesh on the table or else they’d have to admit their fraud. It takes a big person to do that. Dr. Hick was just such a man. That is why he left the racket of western medicine to go into natural healing. He was an amazing person, and the time and money it took to get to meet him, to listen to him and to Dr. Rob in Colorado was worth it. They both are the types of people who give others real hope, true hope, and not just some bullshit racket that puts food on their own tables, leather shoes on their feet, or fancy suits on their bodies. This from Facebook is a wonderful memory even though on that journey to and back from Colorado I realized how fucked up I was and how I had zero coping skills left. It amazes me that I’m even still around. Yesterday in that courtroom, huddled against the back wall with my eyes closed, I was wondering that too. And I was wondering if I was going to make it without through that without totally being made to lose my mind. As it is I seem to have been pitted against a man who’s already lost his mind and seems to be trying to drive me to that same place. I wish there were more people like Dr. Hicks. Along the way getting to meet him was truly a great experience.
Judy Lee shared a memory.
It was a wonderful experience. I am afraid I terrified some people, though. That was emotional trauma. Maybe its all been good, Because I was not quiet maybe more people finally get what emotional trauma looks like. The inside out.
The judge will look at what is before her, she will decide what to do, whether to protect me or to continue protecting the rapist.
I’ve thought to listen to yesterday’s EPIS show because I want to hear an irrational rapist telling his thousands of listeners what violence looks like. As it goes, I cannot listen.
I remember a time when I was so stressed out. It was before 9/11. My dad was diagnosed with brain cancer. I was being accused by my processor of fraud, which I did not do, and I was watching my work being destroyed. One of the real estate offices that I’d been doing business with seemed to be under some type of investigation. One of the owners of that company got so stressed out that it killed him. He and his brother, who was his business partner, had worked together for years. They were elderly men, and they were kind. I loved working with them. It was a family business, and a neat, run down little joint with grit.
As I said, it was just prior to 9/11. Probably December 2000, and I’d just gone from one company to another to another. Where I was working had the worst system, even though it had amazing processors. The company was called Q Point, and they were struggling. I remember setting there at my desk, that’s right, that’s what I was doing. I was at my desk, it was before Christmas, and I was watching all of the great business I had been bringing in to the companies being ruined. Q Point was beginning to salvage some of it, but I was so stressed out as I sat there I believed that I needed to create something huge, something grand, something to tell all of the real estate agents who I’d imagined were hearing all of the things that were being said about me to address all of those negative things. One of the things that was said to me was that I wasn’t giving full disclosures. I don’t think that was true. Now that I look back I think the truth was that none of the systems I’d worked for had a system in place to disclose the variable possibilities in lending. That has changed. But, as it was back then, the shortcomings was not my fault. Nor was all of the rest of the crap, the accusations about committing fraud, the office I was working with being under some sort of Federal investigation, my dad’s cancer, it was all weighing in on me that day in December as I set in the office preparing to address to the imaginary masses who were wondering. So I set out to write to them all a Christmas letter thanking them for their business.
Actually I had more business than most, and during one of the slowest times my pipeline was full and full of great business too. I was popular. People liked me. Real estate agents and their clients liked me. I provided loans for doctors, and for other people who had wonderful assets and great credit, too. I was building a good business. It was simply that I couldn’t find any decent support.
That situation is common in mortgage lending due to that usually the office managers are our competitors. They are originators/producers too who are able to throw us under the bus to scrape up of our business what they can. Most of them belong to one church or another, and their office is filled with people from their church. So when they throw the personalities under the bus, they divide the spoils.
They set in the office to let the personalities bring in the loans, like Nancy Dennehy at M&T did when I was in the field. She would ask me to tell so and so big agent that she says “hi.” That is the way she did her business. She didn’t go out. She was above going out. Going out was for losers. So then they’d let their staff fuck up the deals, then when we fold they’d scrape up what they could and give the loans to either their favorites or to keep for themselves if it was an easy fix.
Nancy let me make $23 dollars on my first closing, and she thought it was funny. I overhead the processor tell her she should help me because I wasn’t going to make anything, and she said to her oh well, and she laughed. Such is life.
I was working with some of the busiest realtors of those days. The office managers were jealous. Anyway they were at M&T and at Eagle where I went after that. So I found myself landed at Q Point. Our office manager at Q Point, Ken, wasn’t like that. Actually I would have stayed and not gone to Chase had I understood that he didn’t think I was some loser due to the things that was being whispered around about my skills. Also the things being said were due to that before I arrived a lot of my business had been ruined by Judy at Eagle. I felt like a loser. Its hard to go out in the field when your office is propping you up as a loser.
Hindsight being 20/20, Ken ended up disappointed that I’d left and ultimately so was I. Q Point was funded by Flagstar, and they had a good group. The company was owned by a guy names Frasier, and although I hadn’t met him yet I’d heard nothing but good about him. No nonsense, they said, but thoughtful and kind. I think I’d have done better to stay there building back my purchase business versus going like I did to Chase where I made tons of money but it was the devil’s.
But back in December of 2000 at Q Point and I was totally stressing out. So I set there at the desk writing to my “fan” base. Hahahaha! I wrote the Christmas letter, starting by thanking them all for their support then creating the dreams I had for the future through the incoming New Year. I got up and went for some coffee and to take a breather.
After the break, back at the desk, I looked at the letter and I laughed. What I saw was what I’ll call delusions of grandeur. Hahahaha! This is true. I read that letter and I thought, “Oh my God!” What am I doing?” The letter was written as if I was some sort of loan officer rock star instead of a woman who had just had the majority of loans in her pipeline ruined by Judy at Eagle by false accusations and innuendo. I was embarrassed for myself. I put the letter into the shredder and drove to the mall to buy some Christmas cards to send to the agents I knew. I’d thank them, and tell them I’m looking forward to the New Year and the business we would generate.
One of the reasons the realtors liked me was because I loved working open houses with them. I was friendly and the people coming to the open houses always liked me. That is where I got all of my business. At that time most snobby loan officers, like Nancy Dennehy or Marge Freitag, would not be caught dead at an open house. Instead they told the realtors that wasn’t a way to get business. But that was not true, and that is why I and my realtors had lots of business when everyone else was hungry.
Yet the office managers knew how to scoop up that business. And nothing’s changed over the years. The same thing was done to me back then through Eagle in 2000 that was done to me in 2011/12 by Axia and Absolute Loans. Its easy to do, that’s why they do it. That’s why I needed to open my own brokerage, and if not for the psych drugs and for what Kevin did to me today I would have my own brokerage. This is absolutely true and people who know me, like my sister and Bernie, know it is true too. But as it is, that hasn’t been in the cards. And, instead of being successful, today I’m setting here wondering if the judge is going to throw me in jail for the attorney of the man who raped me?
And also setting here, I’m pondering delusions of grandeur. I wonder about them because the man who raped me has them. I do get that. Its those human things that I get which makes me understand. Yes, he’s flesh. But he’s not self correcting flesh. Maybe he’s trying to be. Yes, I suppose he struggles with trying to be. It makes me glad that I don’t struggle with that. I am a self corrector. I know because I am remembering right now that day when I looked at that letter I’d written as if I was some kind of rock star.
Maybe I’d sort of gotten that idea we could be mortgage rock stars by all of the ads Shawn Portman was all of a sudden putting out there. He was becoming a lending rock star and he seemed to be a Cinderella story coming out of nowhere. I wondered how he’d done that. Well, come to find out he was committing fraud like there was no tomorrow. But so did all of the heavy hitters end up committing legal fraud with their post 9/11 Wall Street given liar loans. So what’s the difference? I really don’t know.
But as it was in December 2000 I looked at that letter and I realized that I was not a lending rock star. I didn’t even want to be a lending rock star. I just wanted to thank the realtors who had worked with me, address some who had not, and to send wishes for the upcoming year. So, yah, I chuckled at my momentary delusions of grandeur created by all of the stress I was feeling, then I shredded that and went to the mall for some Christmas cards to send out.
And it was good.