Sunday, August 16, 2020

The Traveling Tattooer & The Last Call

 May 2008

There he was, tall, dark hair, handsome, tattoos, and the most charming smile a person could have. His charismatic charm and eyes caught my attention. The time couldn't have been more perfect, I was broken and in a very challenging time in life, but I was picking up the pieces. 

My vulnerability must of been obvious, I seemed to still be attracting all the wrong company and companionships. No one to blame but myself, I should have just stopped searching. Since, divorcing my first husband I have been nothing but a magnet for destructive, insecure, abusive, and broken men that I think I can fix, and out of desperateness for love instantly find myself clinging to, in order to fill some kind of emptiness I have or void. 

During this time I had been jumping through hoops, from one hoop to the next, just to get my life back, and be apart of my two children's life; my worlds and reasoning for life. Picking up the pieces has not been easy. After the raid and home invasion by the vice narcotic investigators, drug task force, hazmat, police, and parole on the night of December 5, 2007 my norm had changed, and my life had completely flipped upside down. Yet little did I know this was just the beginning to a snowball of future events that would follow and take place in my life for the next 12 years of sufferings. Although, even through the struggles and sufferings there have been many blessings, and positive moments. It is with no regrets that I live my life, and would do it all over again, to keep my many moments, memories, experiences, and knowledge that was gained. With sufferings and pain do come many joys.

I had just been given permission to have unsupervised visits with my children for two hours a weekend and soon had over nights to look forward too. This was very exciting for me and a great incentive to work towards, their room and my house was all set up for them. I was doing great, things were going good. I was working as a waitress at the local On the Border Mexican Restaurant, I had a vehicle, my own place; like always I was able to just pick up the pieces. My children mean the world to me there was nothing that the court could ask me to do, or hoop to jump through that I would not do. Except, snitch, and roll over on someone; I would not do, no matter how much they begged me to, or trapped me into attempting to do, I did not, and would not. I was doing several drug programs, and random UA's, in home visits, monitoring, therapies, ect. that I was required to do. So you are probably asking then what was the problem, why was I still searchin for other companionship? 

There was this great fear I was facing of 15 years in prison for aggravated manufacturing and distribution, and the detectives and police were constantly calling me and interrogating me trying to trap other crimes and charges on me. Dangling my children over my head, and placing them with their father. My x-husband who I had divorced and been running from since 2006 for domestic abuse. Ultimately, was the push that led me into the relationship that led to the charges and incident that night of 2007. That story in another blog. 

I married my co-defendant, my boyfriend with a power of attorney. He was very convincing, I had to listen to him. It was street code and rules, right? For me to marry him. Not just that, I was emotionally, and psychologically confused and lost in the belief this was love and we loved each other. Later, after coming to my senses and of sound mind, I will come to the realization that it was all a facade and a twisted perspective that was a fantasy of a young child and far from reality. My perspective was blurred. I knew better then to trust the law and the system, and snitching or agreeing to testify against him witch is what the court wanted, was something I was not willing to do. I didn't know better to not trust him though. Know matter how hard the guardian of lighten, social services, and DA tried I would not testify, or say the things they asked me to say or sign, and not just because of street code, because they were a lie. The things they wanted me to say and do, did not happen, no way I would have known, and I would not testify to that. I was told if I washed my hands, agreed to never have contact, and testify to the things they said they would not pursue charges against me and my children would return to my fully to my custody; the civil case and social service would disappear but the things they wanted me to say were not true, even had they been that is my life how can they expect me to do that, and I could and would not do that. It was simple the answer was no, and you are wrong. I asked to speak with my Co-Defendant and he informed me no matter what Anje you know the truth, they are lying and will still take your kids from you, and charge you. If you marry me we can not testify against each other and they can not force you to agree to or say those things. I rejected their offer, I new in my heart the system was wrong, and I was willing to take the chances, because I new what was done in that house and what wasn't, and I new that the procedures and way things went down was wrong and they were covering something so much bigger up, and we fell into the perfect set up for the corrupt cops, and coast guards (owner and manager of the property) to use us to get away with what ever crimes and trafficking to this day I still think they were involved in. We were the perfect storm, the perfect victims. I new renting that house was too good to be true, and to this day it still haunts me. because Parole overstepped and messed things up, whatever secret mission VNI was investigating and other detectives, now they would have to finish staging and setting up the crime to cover their mistakes. This would all play into the plan I believe the owner and management had.  I would not lie, especially not for the system.

I was working my butt off, keeping money on his book's the phone, paying the rent, the bills, the debts, giving money for my children, dealing with the attorneys, jumping from civil court (drug court) to criminal court, from two different drug programs, UA's and BA's 3 times a week plus, group therapies, individual therapies, appointments with social services, house checks, and working full time. All which was going unappreciated, this was the second time I sat by this person while he went to prison and supported him while working to support my children. I couldn't see at the time what he was taking from me. What he was taking from my children. My two babies. This time he went away for all the things I kept begging be stop doing, while still sitting by supporting him, I seen what was going down around us, I new that there was a deep trouble if things didn't stop, and he would not listen. 

The majority of the phone calls I was receiving from him in prison, was him accusing me, calling me names, he spent hours talking shit to me, accusing me, and putting me down. Calling me a whore and names, I should of hung up, but I would allow him to do it. He would harass my phone blow it up until the money ran out, and out of fear of how he would talk to me, and him thinking I was doing something I wasn't and being mad at me, I would go and instantly put money back on the phone. I was terrified of that he would think, and say, and knew he was going to be upset and trip out on me, thinking I was doing him wrong when I wasn't. I would hide in the bathrooms at work because he would not stop harassing my phone, knowing I was at work I  would hide in a bathroom stall while balling my eyes out listening to him accuse me, call me names. and harrass me, mentally and emotionally abuse me, while I needed to be waiting my tables, instead asking my co-workers to pick them up for me, I would lose that money. I would even go to the extremes to go donate plasma and pond whatever I could to just to put money on the phone and his books, only to listen to him talk down to me and talk shit. It was just a matter of time before I would begin looking for my out away from him.

This was when the traveling tattoo man came in, and there was another man, a friend of a girlfriend of mine. My pill popping lead to heavy drinking every time after receiving a phone call from him spending minutes and hours back to back drilling me, and ridiculing me, degrading me, and talking shit to me. My pain grew and the heart ache, how could this man ridicule, accuse, and degrade me. After he allowed for me to be in a position to have my children taken from me, and I am supporting him still. I begin falling into the temptations of lust to fulfil my loneliness and the void of companionship. 

After, my self degrading begin to build, and feeling of being a complete failure, the lust and desire to feel needed and loved grew. The pain and complex I was allowing this man to give me. I would go out of my way to make sure he had money, could make phone calls, had coffee, never missed a visit, would go to the jail write things in the ground and leave t-shirts with messages, so he would know how much he meant to me. But, the degrading, accusing and name calling continued, causing me so much heartache and anxieties.  I eventually, started doing what I was being accused of and turned into what I was being called. The things he would say to me, hurt me so bad, I could no longer handle it. If I am not doing anything wrong, and I can not have my children and no one believes me, maybe it is better that I just leave. End my life and let them all live their lives free from me. I took a half bottle of Ultram (tramadol), unisom, 5 trazodone, and a couple benadryl. I was done, now I would not cause anyone any pain anymore. After many hours of psychedelic tripping and the few days being extremely sick I survived, but there was no way I would make my visit with my children and my appointment with my therapist. I called my aunt explaining my situation. I was alive that was good enough for me I could tough it out over the next several days until back to health. No way in hell was I going to a hospital, that would be one more thing against me I did not need. After, calling my therapist and social worker explaining I had the flu and was very ill. I was told to go in for a UA, I could not even get off the couch to urinate, on my own. I had to have a friend from down the street come and take care of me, line my couch, etc. At that point I was told my visitation right were being taking away from me until our next hearing in July. I would not see my children or be aloud to have any phone contact or physical contact with them. Once again this destroyed me, all because I called in sick and said for the first time I could not make an appointment.

The traveling tattoo man was charismatic, and had a new identity and life he said he could offer me. All I had to do was to agree to leave and give up everything he said, I had to just wipe my hands clean from it all and walk away. At night when we slept and had intercorse he liked to choke me, this was a new thing for me. There was something about him and his Johnny Cash personality that intrigued me. I gave in time and time again. Now I knew I was doing my wrongfully married husband wrong. Once, again I was committing adultery. I no longer wanted to keep it a secret, I was tired of the disrespect and verbal accusations and abuse from him and I desired a way out where I could start new and not cause all these people pain anymore, I would no longer be a disgrace and disappointment to my children, their father, my wrongly married husband, my parents, and family . That is when I let the traveling tattoo man answer the phone. Before I cheated on him people would listen. They heard the way he demanded from me and than treated me. 

24 hours later the plan set in. I would leave everything behind, pack up a backpack and one green military bag and some food, take all my money and hitchhike out of town. We were off to Oregon.

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The Traveling Tattooer & The Last Call

 May 2008 There he was, tall, dark hair, handsome, tattoos, and the most charming smile a person could have. His charismatic charm and eyes ...