Anyone “Into” Real Estate, Wanna See Weird?


3 bd2 ba1,493 Square Feet

6025 E Colorado Blvd, Spearfish, SD 57783

Est. payment: $158/mo

2018$11,837 (+454.7%)$771,090 (+320.7%)
2017$2,134 (-0.3%)$183,270 (+5.4%)
2016$2,141 (+6.2%)$173,810 (+5.5%)
2015$2,016 (+2.1%)$164,760 (+44.7%)

Price history

7/1/2020Listed for sale$30,000 (-98.8%)Date: 7/1/2020, Event: Listed for sale, Price: $30,000 (-98.8%)
Source: Great Peaks Realty
8/6/2018Listing removed$2,560,000Date: 8/6/2018, Event: Listing removed, Price: $2,560,000 (0%)
Source: CENTURY 21 Associated Realty
3/23/2018Listed for sale$2,560,000Date: 3/23/2018, Event: Listed for sale, Price: $2,560,000 (0%)
Source: CENTURY 21 Associated Realty

Facts and features

  • Type:Single Family
  • Year built:1937
  • Heating:No Data
  • Cooling:No Data
  • Parking:No Data
  • Lot:160 acres
  • Price/sqft:$20

Home value

We don’t have enough information to calculate a Zestimate® for this home.Zestimate history




$252.8KMar 2019Forecast20122014201620182020$50K$100K$150K$200K$250KSee more Zestimate models


And I’ve heard mortgage insurers and investors are going to be using Zillow as a form of appraisal??? Wow.

Baby Monarchs & Baby Brussel Sprouts

An Interesting Perspective On What The Pandemic Is Doing To Some Impulsive Personalities ~ Sam Vaknin

This video is interesting to me, and gives me affirmations that this IS time for me to excuse myself from therapy. This new therapist triggers me, for whatever reason, in a way that I don’t trust her. If I was to put a finger on the issue, its that she seems to be looking for things outside what is obviously known; what the doctor and Joe have done to me, what the psych drugs did to me. I didn’t go into therapy to review my childhood, to go over my interpersonal relationships, or to make adjustments in how I ordinarily handle my life that isn’t related to the medical malpractice and the psychological trauma the ensued. And, I don’t trust this new person to step outside our purpose to make incorrect judgements based upon some minute quirk or prejudice from her own personality issues.

I have confidence my team help me navigate ending this “relationship” in a positive way, so that I can proceed on my own with confidence, and without negative baggage from poor judgment reports or quackery.

Quackery, as we know, is a serious matter and for me a huge trigger. Facial studies in therapy is a form of that and is one in a number of red flags that I don’t like seeing, no matter what the therapists conclusions are about of what she’s seeing.

But, no, there was no twinkle in my eye over the idea of “getting even” like Gone Girl did, nor was there a twinkle in my eye over the detailed understanding of what happened with poor Baby James. If I had a sadistic streak, that would have been discovered by now by my team. Taking steps to test that, if that’s what she was doing, is rightfully insulting to me and to the team I’ve been working with since late 2018.

I may be misunderstanding and wrong about her, but that doesn’t matter. I’m acting properly for myself.

I’m not the person the medical doctor pretended to the world I was. I am pretty sure Joe realized that. I do hope for Joe he can redeem himself. As for me, I’m still looking for closure and I’ll not have this progress I’ve made disrupted by anyone.

To Sam Vaknin:

Brussel Sprout
1 second ago It seems to me this event has brought out the worse in control freaks, because this is something they cannot control. Whether or not its from their character by bullying, or not, I don’t know. I only know it seems like the world has gone mad. Something I have noticed, and I am practicing it too, is that people wear their masks below their noses. Meaning, the masks keep their spittles off other people and off everywhere. I suffocate in the masks so I do that too. But also my immune system has been compromised, so I do think this winter I am going to get the next go ’round of the flu and that is not going to be good. Maybe that’s what a lot of people are fearing who are being bullies. I’m not going to be a bully like that. Sooner or later we all die, right? Thanks for the video, Sam Vaknin. To be honest, I’m not sure the mental health field is prepared for the truth of what is to come because most still are not understanding what has been. God bless.

Nobody Can Live 16 Days Without Sleep!

That I have, blows my mind. I remember quite a bit from during that time. A lot I remember that is surreal. I’ve already told about how I thought the television sports casters were mocking me during the Pro bowl. And I’ve written about how as I looked out the kitchen window towards Seattle I thought the Columbia tower was ablaze and it was a sign from God. Probably I didn’t write it stated this simply or clearly, because I have been pushed over the top by the professional manipulators and I have been ranting hysterically about it ever since.

About that ranting, when I went to the Victims Assistance people in this state asking for help I was ranting, cussing and swearing too, and talking very loudly. Talking very loudly is something I still do now. Its part of being made hysterical that sort of sticks with me.

At any rate, going there for help while I was hysterical was useless because although those bimbos are “in the business” to help, evidently they live in an educated assumption s of what emotional trauma should look like. In other words, a human being’s hysteria offended their privileged sensitivities. With that in mind they were, however, open to phone sex with the charming rapist. They liked his approach with them a lot more than they liked my own.

Talking about that last week with my new therapist, she was compelled to make sure I understood why they were offended. Quite honestly her making sure I understood how offensive my behavior was has offended me.

But back to VAP, there was an older woman, polished of course as they are. Clearly she was a piece of work put there by powerful people to be a buffer, and it was her job to get rid of women like me. She came in, set down, and acted like an attorney to force me out. She was denying my right to file in the courts for protection. I nailed her, and asked her, point blank, “are you acting as an attorney here?” She didn’t know what to say. Yes, she was, and she was trying to get me to go away, to not file a request for protection, because I was more of an inconvenience to them then anything else. I’m glad I went ahead and filed that request even though the VAP ladies didn’t show up to lend me support and even though the case got thrown out. The ladies at VAP didn’t show up, and of course they wouldn’t. They’d already chastised me for my previous blog, and for being mean to poor Joe. So, they were busy receiving phone sex from him. Good job Victims Assistance Program and Magistrate Gordon! Good job!

So, okay, they invited him here. Whatever.

The point of this chapter is the denial of its being 16 days that I went without sleep. “Oh, no,” said somebody on one of Diamond & Silk’s videos. “No, Ambien is a hypnotic. You were sleeping but you didn’t know it.” Uh, no, sister Ramona. I wasn’t sleeping and I was traveling all over from place to place asking for help. Uh, sorry, sister Ramona. I lived it. I was having a text book negative reaction to Ambien. I didn’t sleep for 16 days. In a just civil court this would be very well understood with little reason to doubt. But, there’s no such thing as justice, just like Ammon Bundy said. He was talking about Federal courts, but I am (and Yale & Cornell Law too are) talking about ALL courts. Unless, of course, someone’s got the big bucks, and big backers (like Jeffrey Epstein had) the judges are working a deal.

But, yah, it was 16 days. Joe asked way back when just exactly how many days was it? He asked either when I started up this blog or on the previous blog shortly before it was taken down. For a long time I didn’t really know. In fact I’ve struggled with math ever since the Ambien. I’ve never really recovered that to as good as it was. I did recover it to the degree I was able to make a living again. But the doctor’s group could not have that, oh no.

Although I finally got to where I could make a living again, my math skills have never really returned to what they were before. Therefore I do lack confidence when I toss out calculations off the top of my head.

About how many days it was that I didn’t sleep, while I was going through the hell afterward (without the hard core records) I would go over and over that in my mind. I’d look at an online calendar and then I’d count. 1 – 2 – 3 … “was it a Monday or a Tuesday he gave the Rx to me? Oh pooh I can’t remember.” I was never confident in what I was reporting. “How many days was it really,” often I wondered that myself. Just by wondering, you’d think I’d have sought out the records right then and there. I was in no condition to do that, to think of it, though. I was trying to survive, I was overwhelmed, I was being drugged even more, I was trying to recover, and I needed to be making a living. All of the people around me were becoming involved, but not helping. And, for the first time in 28 years I was making all the decisions by myself against the odds, because my mind had been broken. I was trying to figure it out while they continued laying it on me heavier and heavier. Yes, they were. I was in a fight for my life. So, on the other blog sometimes I’d report it was 10 days, sometimes I’d report it was 12 days. I wasn’t sure.

Finally, and probably to Multicare’s shock, in 2018 I received those medical records. And, despite all the lies that doctor was writing to cover up; bi polar, alcoholism, marital problems, suicidal homicidal ideations, and despite all of the incompetence that is shown in those records, what I could take from them was exactly how many days I had gone without sleeping.

To my own horror, it was SIXTEEN days. Yes,16 days.

Twice during that time I went to the doctor telling him something was wrong. He didn’t want to hear it. He wasn’t going to hear it. Thank God my mom showed up that day, on February 24, 2005, and told him if he didn’t do something she was going to call the police. She also told him she was going to kick his ass for what he’d done to me. That was my mom. I miss her so much.

But, yes, it was 16 days that I did not sleep.

The video I’m sharing isn’t providing that great a description of what happens when somebody goes 11 days without sleep. The one thing I took away from it, though, is how we can go on “auto pilot.” I’m sure I was on “auto pilot.” But by day 16 my “auto pilot” was failing, and failing big time. That, and knowing I was driving and planning to drive to Ohio, is what threw my mom into action. She was terrified for me.

Like I’ve said already, as I was driving around, then coming up on red traffics signals on Kent Kangley I would wonder if I was going to move my foot to the brake pedal to stop. I didn’t know if my body was going to respond, or not. When it didn’t and I drove through the pretty red light on Kent Kangley at 104th I watched myself driving through that red light during one of the busiest times at that intersection. It was shocking. Pretty much, since then I have lived my life in a state of shock.

I still cannot believe I made it to the Multicare that day. And, in that condition, if my mother would not have shown up while I was there, without hesitation, that doctor would have sent me back out of his office and on my way as if nothing was wrong with me. And I would have tried to drive to Ohio to find my son so that he would get me help to sleep.

Wow. I am crying, the memory of it all is still this upsetting.

Yes, it was 16 days that I went without sleep.

Except, people don’t live from that, and my own life and testimony doesn’t matter.

Your Mind Is What You Feed It

What my mental health clinician realized and shared of Baby James’ death that I had not realized is something I’ve been grappling with ever since.

Here’s the deal. I don’t want to know those things. Here’s the deal. I don’t have to know those things. Here’s the deal, I’m tired of being forced to know those things. Is this selfish? No. I’m in fucking trauma therapy, and I feel like I’ve just been pushed farther into the rabbit hole, versus being pulled out of it.

Truth is, I’m ending my mental health therapy. Why? I’m now stuck with a clinician who talks more than I do, and what she says isn’t really helping.

If the point of her sharing her thoughts about the “technicalities” of the perversions Baby James’ father did to that little baby’s body was to offer the visual of how far worse this world is, even more than I’ve endured myself, it was a success. But, that’s not the point of my being there.

What I think is this particular therapist has her knowledge and education, but she lacks the insight to see that she is not my friend. She is not there to teach me anything, and she’s not there to push further into my psyche. I am getting the impression she is doing that, and I’m getting the impression she considers herself some type of psyche “cop,” instead of a mental health clinician.

In fact, taking me to such a horrible place by creating a verbal visual of what was done to Baby James has set me back in a sickening way.

I’ve been thinking about it overnight, and have been thinking about this woman’s approach, and I’ve decided the difference with this clinician is not the same as the differences with the other that needed addressed. Remember? The other matter was part of my team believing if I “let Joe go,” I’d have nothing left, and that was such an insult to me and to the life I had before those assholes used me and destroyed me. With that part of my team I got things straightened out. With this new addition to my team I don’t think I can. This woman wants to do all the talking, and when I’m talking she is formulating judgements and deciding how to manipulate my thinking. Evidently, her perception is that I’m being refined. About her perception, as much as she appears to be pro woman if you will, I don’t believe she is. In fact, I feel like she’s testing me. Especially when she brought up that Joe has a lot of money. She watched my face and my reactions when she says certain things. With her, I feel like I am in some type of CIA or Nazi research. I don’t like it. However “deep” she thinks she going, I don’t trust her because whether she knows it or not, she’s on the same path of Joe’s. And that’s not about me. Its about them. Next week, I’m bailing out.

I went there to be pulled out of the rabbit hole, not be pushed farther into it. From this point forward I’ll take care of the rest myself. Not because I’ve got anything to cover up, but because I don’t need to be further insulted.

Where this clinician did yesterday and might continue to take me is offensive, because its not anything I particularly want to know. I’m not a cop. I’m not an investigator. I’m an average woman, without even a job anymore. I don’t need to know those things. Its not my world. For me it was enough to know that Baby James’ father had battered his little body, and that somehow semen was foaming out from his stomach through his mouth when he died, and the baby’s mother is so stricken by grief of that and how the courts actually gave the baby over to the baby’s father they already new had raped her, so she needs our little FB emoticons to help her get through this. That’s all I needed to know. I didn’t want the visual the clinician gave yesterday. I protect my mind. My parents tried to protect our minds. I’ve tried to protect my family’s minds. Our minds are what gets put into them. I understand that. Nobody has the right to put into our minds what we don’t want in it.

I know babies don’t have a choice. Of course they don’t.

Describing some experiences from when he was a little baby, I asked my son, “I wonder what tiny babies are thinking when they’re being packed around?” He replied, “Nothing.” I think that is true. Of course its true. They’re experiencing everything for the first time. Their thoughts are being developed. I thank God the thoughts in my own baby head were not horrible. I thank God the thoughts in the heads of my family were not horrible, too. I’m sad for the babies who’ve had horrible thoughts put into their heads when their thoughts were just formulating. I pray for them, and understanding it is why I’ve remained sympathetic to the ones who have done unbearable things to me.

The good that I will make of what that clinician has said is this, I no longer have delusions about evil being the victim. Of that, I’m now very, very clear. Its not been my job to fix Joe or anyone else. Its only been my job to represent what I know is good and right in hopes of setting a positive example for myself and for the people I might influence. That’s all.

I found mental health therapists to pull me out of the rabbit hole Multicare threw me into, not to get pushed further into it. Yep, the rest of the way I’ll go it on my own. This clinician is reading way more into things she’s not being invited by me to review. She asked the other day if I am really fine or if I’m pretending to be. Its not the first time she’s mentioned how she can read better my moods and expressions even more than I express them myself. I don’t like that. I’m not a big believer in that type of analysis. Reading body language and facial expressions helps us in life. However, what I’ve learned is that the ones who are best able to mask their own are the fakers. To know she’s purposefully triggering a response while she studies my face bothers me. Not because I worry my face will give away anything that I don’t want it to, but that she’s studying me that deeply looking for something that isn’t there in an effort to “diagnose” me as something other than what has already been diagnosed. Do I think she’s evil? I don’t know. All I know is that she’s not right for me and my team has gotten me so well that I’m quickly identifying it to remove myself in a positive way.

I feel good about my decision to end the therapy, versus starting all over again with another one. Why is this? Because having spent a good amount of time dealing with the losing end of manipulative, professional assholes with other purposes in mind,(like Joe and Dr. Sargent’s) changing therapists can be made to appear as me not getting along, me being difficult. Receiving different insurance coverage in June has been the cause of already forcing an unwanted change in my therapy team by giving up one of them to this new to me therapist.

The one original therapist who’s been part of my team is in the sessions now as an unpaid observer, with my consent, to help me transition. This week and the week before she was on vacation, so she wasn’t present. Through these two weeks I realize things are not comfortable for me with this new one. Also I realize through this one, I am as good as I’m going to get in therapy. I’ve proven this, and am not going to hang around to have my mind taken into places I’m not interested in going. My face doesn’t need read for truth. I’m in touch with my own truths. I don’t lie to myself. I just needed help getting Joe out of my head and help out of the hysteria he and Multicare drove me into.

I’m very happy about this decision to leave therapy, and I’m glad I’ll be seeing my social worker part of my team this week and also next week I’ll see the original clinician, too, so I can tell her goodbye and thank her for all that she’s done to help me.

In all the years this has been going on against me, all the doctors, hospitals, psychiatrists, mental health therapists, recovery therapists, police, attorneys, and government department people whose hands I’ve gone through, this team is the first who have actually listened and done what was needed to help me. They are the best, and I hold them in my heart as such, and I think if I ever need to go back I hope they’ll still there.

On another note, thank you to whomever shared with me the “Head of the Snake – Les Wexner.” I wish it was better at applying dates to all the events. I think doing that would help not just me but a lot of people watching who are familiar with things in that type of cult. And maybe even it would better help the ones who have been harmed by that particular cult to come forward knowing its all been recorded?

I’m going to watch the video, again, to see if there is anyone stated in the video to whom victims can trust to contact. I really don’t think Robert David Steele or Lynn Rothschild is that. To me Steele seems to be as much of a douche as Trump. But…maybe even douche can end up doing something truly good for women? I don’t know. I haven’t met a douche yet who is able.

In This Country The System Would Not Have Given Her Closure Another woman said they felt sure Joe was recording with them. I’d have to guess he records everything so that he has better recall for his writing. When he did that to me it was in an office he shared with his then business partner. That business partner helped him attack another woman. I’m not sure, but I believe that former business partner changed her ways. But, learning, they were into BDSM and kink makes it hard to know if they have stopped or not. Either way, I’d imagine once somebody gets into that they’re surrounded by others into it, and getting out is impossible. That’s why its better to not start it to begin with. At the time, though, Joe was hooked up with Dishrag, too, as a partner in others ways. She was another recruitment who was happy to oblige for the scraps he’d throw her way. Unlike the man in the linked story above, the ones I’ve dealt with are professionals. Because they are, the system will protect them. The system relies upon them to keep itself protected.


Yesterday I was told the story of some medical doctors who were selling babies in Ohio. How it came to be a business first was a medical doctor had an out of marriage liaison that impregnated a woman. The medical doctor convinced her to have the baby (pro life, I guess) then give it up for adoption. What he actually did was sell the baby. Evidently to him that was such easy money he began caring for single, pregnant women from affairs of highly influential people who didn’t want scandal. Oftentimes they went to the doctor for abortions, but he convinced them to carry the child, instead. This doctor became and go to guy to handle the pregnant women, and even the medical doctor housed some women through their pregnancies. During the time they were carrying he’d arrange for adoptive parents to purchase the babies. The women didn’t know the babies were being sold. They only knew they were being adopted to loving parents.

The situation was so easy he began telling women who wanted to keep their babies their babies died at birth. Then he’d sell them too. Evidently this was a busy practice that expanded over the years to including the medical doctor’s medical doctor son, too. They practiced that way for at least 20 years.


What medical doctors are able to do, and are willing to do, playing God would shock a lot of people. Its no wonder removing organs and body parts is so lucrative. I am currently fortunate my medical doctor doesn’t see us as dollar signs. Now knowing, its very clear the difference between a doctor who sees us as human beings and is not threatened by us, and doctors who see us as money to be made.

I tried for people in my Washington circle to see it but they couldn’t. Most of them were hooked up with the medical system, and with that came a certain amount of egotism. “MY doctor wouldn’t do that. MY doctor cares and is like a friend.” Successfully hooking up with a medical doctor in that way made them feel influential and connected. I know how that is because when I first went into real estate loan originations I targeted doctors for business, and did that successfully. In fact a realtor I know was working the same circles, and we did it successfully as well. It was through that work we saw how some of the doctors “operated.” It IS an ego system. Its a good old boys network. Yes, it is. Even if the M.D. was a female, you can bet she’d be operating in that mean, lean, money making crony network.

You do not EVER want to step between a medical doctor and his money, just the same as you NEVER want to step between a real estate money launderer and his money. Not even by accident. Not even if you don’t realize you have. Anyway, that is the way it is in Washington State.

Here, like in Nebraska, it seems more we should not step between some insureds and their insurance agencies. Not even legitimately, not even by accident. Not even if you don’t realize you have.

Anymore its smart to ask an employer who’s insuring them for liabilities, including workers compensation, and then decide if that insurance company is one you want to work for. Because, ultimately, it IS an insurance company you’ll be working for when the company breaks you. How they manage their business is no different from corrupted medical doctors and corrupted real estate lenders.

I wonder if anyone has put in a claim against Joe’s license in Washington? He would have had to be insured, being licensed, wouldn’t he have been? It might be interesting to see how and by whom those insurance coverages are paying out on claims. Because they’re surely not covering honest liabilities, so who IS getting that dough, I wonder?

Who keeps track of licensees’ insurance?

Oh no. Did I just do it again?


He told the Luciferian judge Michael Finkle he wanted me to know when this is over he doesn’t want to see me. He said he believed I thought he would. Do you really think that mind fucker didn’t know what he was doing? So, he used me as bait to make money….lot of money. Yes he did. How do I know? I know because only a few years before they set me up he was poor and depressed. So much that his apartment was filled with bags of trash not taken out. When the set up worked he knew he’d hit the jackpot. And he did. Except saying his name on the internet was risking it. Everyone’s finding out he’d raped me because I wasn’t “hungry” the way the “boys” had hoped must have been a blow to his enormous ego.

When he took me back to court for about the 4th or 5th time and said that to the judge, especially when he kicked Dishrag as a signal to make that strange sound she’d made on the phone the previous year so I’d know that has been her, I knew he was FOS and so was she. One can only wonder when dealing with people like that. What compels them? Well, the ONLY thing that compels them is money and their love of it and the power it affords them. We all know that.

Now, in my life, emotionally I’ve gotten myself back to where I was in 2004 before all of this happened. That doesn’t change the financial destruction, does it? No, the previous financial situation didn’t bring me happiness. What it did was it brought Don and I security for our old age. Don lost a lot, too.

Among the maddening things is the way Joe duplicated what he believed went down between myself and the doctor. Yes, he did. I’m so glad I went berserk on him. He deserved more. In fact, if the judges weren’t whores his name would still be on this blog, and his name would be mud in the academic community he likes to think he’s leading. And so would that moron who helps him set up a lot of women (and men too, I guess) to be fleeced by whomever is paying them those negotiable fees.

Of it all, the bottom line is what they did between Don and I. Here’s the thing, though. None of them can know what has been between Don and I. They’re too shallow, as they tool around wrapped in their delusional self importance. The truth is, hardly had I hit the publish on the chapter before about how Don is more valuable than 100 of them, then a text message came in from Don. Don and I were connected from 1968 until 2008 (the latter was our trying to make our way back together after the Ambien.) 1968 to 2008.

So its “funny” to me how hard Joe tries to portray himself as this rock solid guy, when nothing could be further from the truth. He, like Sargent, rely on others to keep him stable and stand up, or at least appearing stable and stand up. Which makes it all the more insulting they spent so much time putting me down, calling me unstable, and criticizing someone like me who cannot handle the break up of the long standing marriage/relationship that was mine. Truth is, if Joe “lost” Dishrag he’d come unhinged even more than he’s already unhinged with every woman he comes across.

Trust me when I say I’d rather not be hear giving my opinion and perspective on the whole matter. Maybe soon I won’t be anymore. Maybe I just want to be sure he is understanding now that this is over I don’t want to see him. Because I think he thinks I do, and I need to be sure he knows I don’t.

I was glad to see Don’s text come through, because we still have in common having raise a child together, and that person thinks the world of Don. There are some other relationships that need to be mended, and I’m looking forward to participating in that all happening. Its funny how growing up changes perspectives. A lot will need to be processed.

Joe and probably Dr. Sargent, too, will never grow up, and that type of childish mental illness is not endearing. In fact, its troubling. So much of my life has been wasted just trying to get through this, to reach this space in adulthood I would have reached many years ago had they left me alone. But, they couldn’t leave me alone. Attacking a vulnerable human being is just too much fun for demons. And they are demons. Don’t forget that people. And don’t forget they really were trying to make me commit suicide. And they walk among us as if they’re decent people, they even believe they are the ones desirably “refined”, when really they are simply disgusting demons. Yes, they are demons.

I’m sure Joe was expecting this. I’m sure Dr. Sargent doesn’t care.

Birdbath In Last Drying Phase

After therapy I did visit one of the gardens. It is adequate, but I want to see a couple of other areas before I make a decision on this. The first birdbath is in its final phase of drying. I think its pretty, and still love the clever idea of repurposing the old glass into birdbaths.

Also, I think I’ve got a good idea on setting up a location to sell the baths, and also I’ll be able to sell some other items there too. I’ll need to research better incomes issues and any unknown penalties I could face by adding income to my situation. So, time will tell. I can’t get my head around unreportable income because I am always expected to be precisely perfect in everything I do, while people like Sally Yates can fuck things up badly and still push her garbage through. Its boggles the mind.

Anyway, here is the birdbath in its final drying phase.

Tomorrow I’ll start building another one.

Constructing them straight is something to do.

Earth Moon & Stars.

A New Realization About Baby James’ Death, & Joe & Dishrag & What Multicare Has Done (Aug. 10, 2020)

Okay, call me stupid, naive, or blind. Any of it, either way, when something as simple as the most revolting William Fulton telling me to impress his trolls on Twitter I’d be excited to see his ass in jeans made me want to puke. Certainly he knows he’s revolting, which is why he says such disgusting things. And, that Joe got next to Fulton as circle jerk buddies makes Joe to me as equally disgusting.

Something I was able to affirm this weekend which I’ve not been able to affirm in quite a while, especially because my parents are both passed away, is that my family didn’t talk dirty. I didn’t hang out with people who do, and that I don’t is a reason my little sister facetiously calls me St. Judy. Joe knows how to talk dirty. I’d suppose so does Dishrag know how to talk dirty. Probably a lot of people do, and even today on the radio some guys talking about the death of one of them spoke about the time they went to a porn convention in Las Vegas. I had no idea there was such a thing as a porn convention. My guess is Joe, Fulton and my little sister might be comfortable at one. Just sayin’ I think early in his life Joe made his was in porn, which is one of many reasons he said I would never respect him.

As the mind fucking he did to me flowed through and is on its way out the door, the things he told me during the process that came out of his seemingly exceptional education and filthy mind has left me susceptible to learning shit I’d otherwise never have known. In fact, my ex husband knew many things but, like my parents, we were not part of that knowledge. The things that were done to me in high school neither I nor my parents would have had the vocabulary to describe. And, neither would I have been interested in being taught early on in the event I needed to describe. Between the shock and awe and having understood in advance just how evil men are and what they can and will do, I’d still choose the shock and awe. The only thing I wish about the things that were done to me would be wishing my parents defied “authority” and would have told the schools I, my sister, Don and Pam WILL be going to the same high school. Versus splitting us up the way the schools did. I believe had we 4 been in the same school things would have gone better for me. My older sister would have been present, as well as so would Pam’s older brother have been present, too. What was done to the 4 kids who lived next door to each other is the same thing that has been done to the family. The system has purposefully destroyed the family and also broken up good neighborhoods in order to take control of everyone through inserting insecurities for exploitation. Yes, my mom spoke to the schools but they said no, and my mom accepted the school’s “authority.”

Would my life have been changed? Surely to a certain degree, yes. Would that have kept me safe from Dr. Sargent and his family preying on me? I doubt it. And from that Joe was able to do the same thing. Then he writes about what he does, and he calls it psycho analytical research. Oh, except, I did not consent. Oops. Cynthia Sobie, during her investigation of him, should have caught that. But, alas, she was offering him professional courtesies. That’s what they do.

So, today, while my team and I were talking about Mr. Anti Social Bi Polar BPD Psycho analytical Ethicist JD Asshole Rapist my team reminded me he’s got a huge support system just because of who he is. They reminded me he’s got a lot of money, and that he is being protected by people who have given him free reign to do whatever he wants to without consequences. While we talked about that, and about how corrupted the system is, and about how many women Ted Bundy killed before they finally took him in, and how easily OJ Simpson got off the hook for the brutal murder of Nicole & Ron, it stands to reason the system would and has protected Joe and the Dishrag who committed perjury for him. Then the topic of baby James came up. And, as if thinking about Joe’s not being in prison wasn’t bothering me enough (yes, I’ve realized prison are made exactly for men and women like Joe, Dishrag, Dr. Sargent, his wife, his father and CEO Cecchittini) the reality about the death of Baby James put me over the edge. I am sickened and will remain sickened until I can shake it off.

In the recent past I described Baby James’ condition to my team, not really understanding what I was describing. Today my team explained. My team explained babies natural instincts and the scene of the crime and my team made it quite clear what Baby James’ father had done to him that killed the baby while the baby was trying to survive, as babies do. Now understanding that, I pray Baby James’ mother has figured it out. She’s young, so maybe she hasn’t. Maybe she’s still too traumatized and confused about her baby’s murder to figure it out. Maybe its just too much for her to know. Its too much for me to know. And now knowing I can only wonder why the father/murderer/sociopathic psycho has not been put to death. Now knowing its even more understandable why that judge who put Baby James in the custody of his lying father who then murdered him, gave him custody without factual evidence to support his allegations against the babies mother, the baby’s mother who he had raped and gotten pregnant with Baby James, the raped woman who when she found out she was made pregnant chose to have him instead of eliminating him from her life, and then found she brought the baby into the world to die in horrible death at the hands of the demon who had raped her….yah that judge….he resigned.

So why do the courts make decisions, as they do, based only upon allegations? That’s what they did to me in Multicare vs Judy. And, in fact I’d proven and the doctor testified to that I could not have done what he was accusing me of doing. No, what’s happened to me is not nearly as serious as what was done to Baby James. But, what was done to me exposed me to being set up for being sodomy raped by Joe. Yes, I’ve decided, Joe would too do well in prison. Prisons are made for rapists. And, the truth of what Multicare did to me and of what Joe did to me is clear. And, as Mr. Bi polar the Rapist moves forward with his overly happy life then crashes into reality, chances are he will do again to someone else what he’s done to me. Chances are he already has. Yet, as a predator he’s protected. Just like Baby James’s father was given more regard, without his even providing facts to support his allegations against the baby’s mother, the predator rapist got his way.

As I detach more and more from the trauma I still think of the things that Joe said. Today my team mentioned the same thing, and its that I’ve been broken down to my core. I said to my team, “Oh no, that’s a trigger for me.” I was asked, “Have you never heard of the Malan Triangle (of Conflict?)”

If you haven’t, here is a link to an article published that will tell you.

And here is an article from Psychology Today expanding on that:

I said, “Let me tell you, Joe told me he was needing to get to my “core.” So that reference isn’t going to endear me, okay?” “That’s because what Joe (which we all know isn’t his real name because having his real name here would require him to confront this like a man, and he’s not a man. He’s a pussy with a penis, who hides behind skirts to save him from the reality of who he is) did has been negative,” was the reply. “But, here we are down to the core, and we can build up from there. Its a refinement process.”

To myself, “I’m still breathing, right? Check. Check. Yes. keep breathing. You can do this. Breathe.” Oh no oh no.

Listen. NOTHING that has been done to me by those assholes has been good, or refining. The idea that any of those men thing they have helped me up my game by blessing me with their presence is more than sickening. I’m resisting. I feel myself resisting. I’m not sure what to do. Am I at the end of the trail in therapy? I’ve wondered that before but maybe this is it.

The reality being found out about what was done to Baby James was too much for me. Maybe it was too much for my team, too. I do know my team has access to health care for themselves. I’ll talk with my team about that later this week. For now I feel like I’ve hit some rocky road. In fact, I’m feeling I could be done with it.

You see, there has been NOTHING good that’s come out of this for me. Joe’s stripping me down to the bare bones while he trounced off making sure his money flow didn’t get interrupted, the crooked little bastard, has not been good. Nor has it been good what that asshole doctor and his family and practice did either. No, I don’t want to talk about my core. In fact, over the weekend my little family and I talked about our amazing past lives together, and how we had a very happy time of it. No, I did not have the debilitating issues that medical doctor and Joe the asshole were projecting onto me. No, it was not endearing that as Joe was raping me he was telling me finding myself single after 28 years of marriage ought to have me out every night being found dined and dancing with a number of beaus. The dude was acting like I was Cinderella just stepping out for the first time in my life from a repressive life. No, I wasn’t. My life had not been repressive except for by assholes like them. Why would I want an entire array of assholes just like them dancing me around some ballroom floor? I wouldn’t. I’ve had a nice life, despite the assholes. So, yes, this weekend we spent a good amount of time in heartfelt reminiscing. Let me be clear. I would take back my ex husband in a minute over Joe or that asshole Dr. Sargent. I liked the faux Joe, but not the real Joe. I didn’t like either the faux or the real Dr. Sargent. I was begging for my life from them, and they were getting off on it, and that has become more than obvious. No, I was not unstable. They made me unstable. There’s a difference.

So, yah, now that we’re down to my core, with all that negative emotion set aside, we’re ready to rebuilt a refined me. Uh, no, I don’t think so. I think what needs to happen is Joe, Dishrag and the whole Multicare lot, including Dr. Minehan who fraudulently removed my female parts, should all go to prison. That’s what I think. You see, I’d already been broken down to my core when Robbie raped me while I was homeless and pregnant with my son. I’d already evaluated my deep feelings, and from there I built my life. Don and I had a good life and it was destroyed by a bunch of sick, bitter, assholes who worship their own phalluses and believe should all women fall before that alter. And women like Dishrag do. That bitch is beyond stupid.

How he’s tried to knit a silk purse out of that sow’s ear boggles the mind. Same with Sargent and that nasty thing that showed up in Katherine Moschel’s church parking lot to check me out. That was a sow’s ear, too. Not that I’d care, except that they all gathered around to destroy my life with the big pharma/insurance/banking cabals. And we pay the government and the courts for what? Certainly they’re not there for us. That’s been made clear.

You see, I’m not building from the broken down to baseline core. I’m returning to it. Its not a new place. In fact that baseline is where I lived all of my life until that doctor fucked me up on his drugs and started stringing me along in a weird way to cover up his own mental illness, ignorance, self centeredness, arrogance, and malpractice.

With Don right there in the courtroom, on the witness stand the asshole said he liked Mr. Carswell. What he was saying between the lines was that he was rejecting my advances (that he was fantasizing) because my husband was his buddy. That was a flat out lie. He had called Don into his office months before while he was having me surrounded by security and the administration during my OB GYN appointment. Calling Don into his office was unnecessary. He never told Don I was in the clinic too. He was interrogating Don about me, making Don uncomfortable. No, Dr. Sargent didn’t like Don. Dr. Sargent was a sick, sick bastard. No, Don didn’t believe Dr. Sargent’s act on the witness stand, and neither did Don believe I’d been coming on to that doctor. The doctor wasn’t my type. Now that I know what I do about Joe, I am sure he’s not my type either. Joe was right. I could never respect him. He needs idiots to stroke him. I’m not.

Yes, 1 Don was worth more than 100 of them. I knew that then, and now that those guys have been gotten off my back, I’ve received genuine care and the hurt is gone, I recognize it again, without a doubt. Also, what I know is that what happened drove Don crazy. Yes, it did. That makes me sad. I saw him “going down.” We were working towards getting back together, too. Then Joe raped me, spun me, started mind fucking me, and I told Don. Don told me clearly Joe’s a fraud, too, like Sargent. But, we didn’t know how to deal with what Joe had done. Humpty Dumpty couldn’t be put back together again. Don didn’t deserve that, and neither did I. Do you think those men aren’t going to be made to suffer for this? Yes, they will be. And, for all that I’ve learned about operating in the Holy Spirit, no I’m not one with Sargent nor Joe. They and theirs are on their own. No, I will no longer pray for them. I will pray for my ex, Don who deserves my prayers.

My team told me they understand my greatest fear is Joe will be able to get to me. Really, anymore, that concern is minimal. My trust is in God, and I know that what I’m making of the rest of my time alive will be for tying up loose ends that could have and would have been tied up years ago if not for this enormous distraction. You see, what has been done to me….its been nothing more than a huge waste of time, life and assets while the ones who have done it have been making out like bandits. Funny how that goes, isn’t it?

Years ago Chris McNeil MHS, told me the problem with the assholes was that they broke me down but weren’t qualified to help put me back together. That alone that Chris said was testimony Joe was practicing on me without consent. I still don’t know why Sobie didn’t charge him with that. Oh wait. Yes, I do. I keep saying it. Professional courtesy. Psychos get off the hook if they’re licensed to practice. So, yah, he broke me down, and yes he was paid to do it. Then he made a big joke of it, just like so did the Sargent group, until they realized I was raped. How many times do I have to say it? I was supposed to go down easy. I was supposed to say yes. Joe would record it, they’d all get a good laugh, and that would be that. The dicks would have shown me. But, it didn’t work out that way. I whipped their asses. Yes, I did. But, I’ve paid the price and they have not. I’d have paid the price, regardless, because they’ve got things set up that way.

Now my team is going to help me to build a refined happy place. To be honest, I know my happy place. I had it before the psych drugs started getting dumped into me. Just because Dr. Sargent and Joe sold to anyone who’d listen that I thought they were my happy place and that I was stalking them because I could not live without them, that isn’t and wasn’t true. They were destroying my life, and leaving themselves the only ones who could help me put it back together. But, they wouldn’t because there was no money in that for them. They get paid to ruin us, not to build us up. I couldn’t understand why that was. And to understand that is why I have kept at it. Sadly, the truth is they’re no better (especially Joe) than the man who murdered Baby James. The only difference is Baby James couldn’t say no while he was holding on for his life. God damn. Seriously. God damn them. That father should be murdered.

My team asked, when you had sex with your (ex) husband, did he ever call our Lucifer loves him? I said, “NO!” Today, for the very first time, I’ve gotten my head fully around evil. It is covert and it is overt, but its all the same. The drugs open the portals, and we are stuck trying to close those portals. No, my (ex) husband never called out that Lucifer loves him. Today, very seriously, I want to puke.

I wish I could come up with a better way today to say it all. But today this is as good as I can do. Too many men (and women) should be in prison getting porked, and they’re never going to because of professional courtesy and their being better connected… Lucifer.

To be honest, the medical/ psychiatric system has made me sick, and I really don’t want to learn anymore about what or how they think. I don’t want to know anymore about any of it. I really do think I’m done. I want to remain in my own life, “refining” it on my own, as we were before the two guys who seem to think they’re these great “catches” slithered into my life. Sargent and Joe, to me, are the scum of the Earth. I would have thought that of them before, and thinking it now tells me I’m recovered. The rest of the way I’ll go on my own, without being subjected to scrutiny by people who only know me through “educated” guesses that kind of make me sick. I really didn’t want to know what I learned today about Baby James. I learned more than enough about sick mother fuckers from Joe and Multicare.