Saturday, July 16, 2011

No One Gets Out Of This World Alive

But all would like a home to reside in while here on earth..

Last night was one of those nights where no peace is to be found. I fell asleep before 11 am but fell right into a nightmare in which my mother died. I was still homeless and couldn't find my passport or any necessary documents in the packed boxes, then all loved ones started dying. Four legged and two legged. By midnight I woke up in a cold sweat and chest pains that had me doubled up in pain. Excruciating pain that would leave for hours.
I am praying that this is a fear not a self fulfilling prophesy.

Sleep wouldn't come and each time I closed my eyes I started walking over the property, trying to figure out how to pick up these pieces and put it back together again. Finally, getting sicker and more stressed, I stayed awake wondering how to stop the chest pains & throbbing migraine with over the counter pain medication.

I'm not too sure if I fell asleep or passed out around 4.30 am. Whichever it was I slept without interruption and woke up at 7.30 am feeling like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards, but with milder less threatening chest pains and, thank God, no migraine.

By 8. 30 am my boss was in a mood to "get er' done" and it's hard to explain to an 87 year old that you are deathly ill, have had hardly any sleep and just may be heading into a nervous breakdown. I always have to laugh because the fact that I am homeless sat in a dirty filthy shed with no heat or air isn't even noticed.
Maybe I died and someone forgot to tell me.

My daughters used to criticize me for "chewing my lips" when nervous. Today I'm sure that they would prefer me to chew my lips than have the total meltdowns I experience in the nightmares I have while asleep.

I spent the afternoon running errands for my boss even though I felt like death warmed up. I met with my oldest daughter and four grand-children and we did a bit more early bird school shopping, but she seemed as worn down as I feel.

By the late afternoon I tried to curl up into a ball and try to decrease the chest pains and numb migraine that is really dragging me down. Even though I was depleted, exhausted beyond exhaustion, I still couldn't sleep.Mid-July 2011 and I am still no further towards getting this single wide renovated and the barn finished, or acquire the home and barn my mother bought and paid for in December 2007, and my nerves are frayed to a point where I wonder if I will ever recover, ever have a home, ever be able to see my mother again. For this level of mental, emotional and physical abuse to be permitted or accepted is a total disgrace.

I don't know very much about the homeless. I know what it's like to have a convicted felon steal our home. I know what it's like to be dragged through the
judicial system only to watch the thieves hide the money. I know what it's like sleeping in minus 25 degree weather with no heat. I know what it's like to desperately want to hear my mother complain about muddy riding boots, horse hair on the truck upholstery and equestrian artwork on the walls of our home. I know what it's like to be shattered into a million pieces and not be able to find a way to recover.

But the more I read about he homeless certain "keywords" keep popping up. Invisible: More than once I have used the word invisible because it is what you are, what you become. Your title is now "homeless person" and there is no other description society desires to hear.Why you are homeless, what your career is, who your or what needs
may be is not even relevant. Perhaps I am an "upper middle class" homeless person, because it cost us exceeding $140,000 for me to become homeless. My homelessness, my despair could be easily resolved. All it would take is for the person who stole our building fund to return it in one lump sum. We can't afford to rent, and I can't chance my mother finding out that her home was stolen. It's a catch 22 situation. All because one man refuses to return the money he stole, and was convicted of stealing, so that we can buy a home and get our lives back again.

Dr. Kenneth Ogilvie, Michael Huckins, Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins ( Diana Huckins? Dominic Huckins? Malcolm Huckins? ) I don't know whom in your family can motivate Robert Huckins to return our stolen building fund, but I pray that someone can make him return it. I'm exhausted, and so ill. I miss my mum, I want my career back. I am in despair. I want to sleep exactly like you all do.. in a clean house with furniture. I can't emotionally or physically handle anymore of this abuse and I am begging you to please get the money we had for our home back. I am begging as I have never begged before because I know that you may be my last hope."Leges Sine Moribus Vanae" "lacking moral sense, laws are in vain"