Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Fighting Depression - A Losing Battle

I can't even recall what happened most of this day I was so worried, simply frantic, about Gracie. When you don't know where a loved animal is it is torment.

I see her everywhere yet find find her nowhere.

The day turned a little warmer than the dangerously frigid temperatures of late. Nice enough for me to get on the ball and try to get some work done. I even managed to take off the dirty filthy clothes I have had to keep on for almost 3 days. The warmer spell came just in time.. before the clothes jumped off me into the washing machine on their own.

A Christian on a web site was talking, in a discussion about homelessness, about "dirty scruffy" people ~ or something along those lines, and I looked at the filthy dirty hoodie on the floor, and the clothes I have worn none stop for 3 days trying to survive dangerously low temperatures.

I look awful. Dirty, exhausted, old.. and the description he gave of the homeless fit me to a "t." It was all I could do to stop crying. I wondered if he had ever spent years without a thermostat to give you warmth. Or had ever gone years without being able to sit in a living room or in a kitchen to eat a hot meal.

One day my oldest grand-daughter asked me a question. "Grandma, why don't you want us coming to your house anymore?" I froze. She remembered the hours spent baking and doing family things at grandma's.. I wondered if she could remember when I wore clean clothes and looked smart.
Distant memories are getting more and more distant.

I managed to get to Capitan, before going to Nogal and getting well and truly stuck in feet of snow. Not just stuck, but really, really stuck. It took 3 people and two tractors several hours to unload the trailer, unhook the trailer, so I could reverse out of the snow bank.

Strange, even while sat in the truck my mind kept wondering ... wondering where Gracie is. I am so terribly depressed today.
There has to be someone related to Robert &Sylve Huckins must have some means to reach them, if it be Michael Huckins, Dr.Kenneth Ogilvie ( Diana Huckins? Dominic Huckins? Malcolm Huckins? ) or Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins and get them to return ALL of the money they stole from us so that I can buy a home and get our lives back. I am begging anyone in this family for help.

I don't believe I have EVER witnessed any none vio
lent crime that can be as devastating as stealing someone's home. I am walking in Dorothy McKeevers footsteps, day by day, month by month, year by year.

Liam Griffin, I sat in your law office with two witnesses as you gave me your promise, your guarantee, that our money would be returned before harm came to us.

Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins you were present the day I signed contract with your son. You walked out of the kitchen with Sylve Huckins and your son introduced me to you. He told you that I was the British horse trainer he had told you about, the one he was going to build the home and barn for. Why didn't you say something? There may be a rational and reasonable explanation but I have spent over 3 years, homeless, not understanding it. I understand it even less knowing that though I was a total stranger, both Dorothy McKeever and Sally Canning you KNEW, and you knew what your son had done to them and others.

Dr. Kenneth Ogilvie, I contacted you and simply asked f
or a reference, not knowing that Robert Huckins was your cousin. Robert Huckins had just stolen over $30,000 from the domestic violence shelter, HEAL, yet everyone was trying to hide it. There was a history of stealing large amounts of money. $65,000 PLUS from Nancy Canning. $89,000 PLUS from Dorothy McKeever, $45,000 from Francis McKinney. The list just goes on and on and on.
Because of Robert Huckins I ended up paying
$140,000 to be homeless.. sat in the cold, emotionally, physically and financially broke. In the middle of a recession, with no way to recover the stolen funds.

Today Robert Huckins has his own home...
He also has OUR home.....
He also has a lot of people's money...
And his freedom.

Women are not banks or loan institutions. Women should not be the source of a retirement fund for people who don't want to do an honest day's work for an honest day's pay. Holding women hostage while playing with the judicial system, a horrendous game of cat and mouse extending YEARS, with the victims whose very homes, families and stability are in jeopardy is cruelty, as cruel as a physical beating. It is financial and emotional RAPE. Homelessness is not justice. It is a slow, painful death.
Please, I beg with everything I have within me, pl
ease convince Robert Huckins to stop this torture and return the building fund he stole from us so we too, can have a home.

Relevant pages:
We do not die wholly at our deaths: we have moldered away gradually long before. Faculty after faculty, interest after interest, attachment after attachment disappear: we are torn from ourselves while living. ~ William Hazlitt