They're not exactly dreams. I'll be sound asleep when I'll have an overwhelming sense of danger. I'll wake in fighting mode, ready to scream. I'm often kicking and hitting when I wake up.
I had a real sense of loneliness as Ma got ready to go into work last night. I didn't want to be alone; I dreaded it. I couldn't say why. I was on the verge of tears. I wanted to say, "don't leave me!" I felt silly, immature and irresponsible. I didn't say anything to her.
After she left, I curled up in bed to watch TV. Taz is so lonely and insecure, I thought it would be better to be in there with her and the cats, who also miss me very much. And several of my cats are irritable anyway, because I found the "leaks" in my kennel and covered them with old chicken wire patches. They haven't found a new way out yet and often wander the back of the house and back yard, looking forelorn. So, I thought I should comfort them.
Besides, it meant I wouldn't have to turn on the heater in the living room and waste the gas. My bedroom has a heater.
I made it to almost half of "The West Wing." It's a favorite show of mine. Or, at least, it was, until this very disjointed season. The writing is now too impressed with itself. The story lines are more soap opera now than political commentary. I've been losing interest.
Well, the fake tension between Donna and Josh was getting on my nerves. All I could see was young people, scurrying around frantically, saying precocious things that were hard to follow.
I turned off the TV at about eight thirty and went to sleep.
I heard Ma coming in. The dog barked and scampered.
But I couldn't get out of bed. I felt paralyzed. I thought, "what if it's not Ma? What if it's a burglar?" But I couldn't care enough to get up. I think it's maybe what dying feels like: the body can't move and the brain keeps trying to be alive.
Ma came in and sat on the side of the bed. I think I was supposed to get up, take my vitamins and asprin, join her in the living room.
At about midnight, I woke. The lava lamp on Ma's side of the bed was still on, shining in my eyes. She wasn't there.
I had to pee, anyway. So, I clumsily got up. We share a bathroom with connecting doors from each of our bedrooms. I opened hers. She was sitting in the living room, watching tv.
She followed me in, asking lots of questions about my health, pain, etc. I was too punchy to answer much.
Eventually, she came in to bed.
It woke me up and I wanted to talk. I told her about my experiences with that stalker. I told her about how abusive and indifferent the cops were, how nobody believed me, how nobody would help me.
I'm angry about the court date. I wish it HAD been over today. The judge is just another indifferent man, a paper pusher. He won't believe me, either.
The police did everything but hold me down, so that bastard COULD rape me. I escaped, but it's temporary. Now, the judge will finish the job the cops & stalker started. I'll be punished for being a woman, poor and independent.
The stalker laws ONLY apply to upper middle class women who are the property of men. They don't apply to me.
I fear fines; how will I ever pay Ma back, and how will she pay off her debts? I fear jail time: it just means a lot more work for Ma. Ma gets punished, not me.
I'll beg to have the charges dismissed at the hearing. Otherwise, I'll plead innocent and go through the circus of being publicly defended.
Most of my evidence and witnesses are gone now, after five years. Cops never took reports, even when I stood in the church parking lot, covered in blood, with a torn dress, crying.
So, I'm having night terrors. This is, of course, bringing it all back.
I couldn't afford to feel anything at the time, so I repressed it. Five years later, all the terror is coming to the surface.
My memory's very bad right now. I'm pretty confused and dazed.
Ma has been tremendously supportive and understanding. She's my champion; I've never seen her more indignant, more nurturing, more encouraging than now.
I owe her a lot.
Whatever happens, no matter HOW long they string this crap out to torture me, it'll be over someday. They'll get their "licks" in and move on to the next powerless soul who can't defend herself against them.
For five years, I've dodged cops, lived in slums that don't check police records, been refused jobs, been threatened with extortion by landlords and cops, been afraid to assert my rights because I've had this warrant. For three years, of course, I didn't KNOW I had a warrant out.
Once this crap is over, if it ever is, I won't have to be so uncharacteristically timid. I can walk back into a certain place, where a certain person wiped her feet on me like I was nothing and humiliated me publicly and tell her and her supervisors EXACTLY what I think of her cruelty, incompetence and ego. And she WON'T be able to call the cops to get me arrested!
I tried four times to clear this warrant mysef. But the demand of three hundred, thirty dollars' cash bond forbid me from even seeing the judge.
Ma thinks I was worthy of the investment, even though it complicated her life. Someone believes in me. Someone believes me. Finally.
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