Now For The Criminal Bullshit.

I had another meeting with an attorney yesterday who rejected my case…we’ll thank Mr. Anderson for covering that $75.00 “consultation fee.”  These are fun.  I have to try to run through this incredible story again and again and again, while trying to hit on only the important and relevant points each time…let’s try again.

  1.  I went on a vacation that turned into a nightmare.  I brought the boys with me on this nightmare.  The short backstory here is that one of my FB friends went through the horror of also losing a child to EB–he was sixteen and his birthday was very close to his death day, and I had just published my second book, so I desperately needed a vacation.  My house was a mess, I had been up many nights with my tech genius friends getting it done (impossible to do when the kids were awake) so I was happy to leave it in order to “girl time” with my friend–a vacay and helping someone–score!
  2. However, my friend told me some news I was not prepared for that morning while I was already on the road….a woman down the road from her…who was a friend from high school…had twins 6 weeks ago that just got released from the hospital…and one of them had EB.  Also, that they were thinking of putting him up for adoption, for many reasons related to EB.  They already had twin 5 year old girls and were not prepared for a special-needs child.
  3. It is relevant that I have PTSD related to my children dying, and also Systemic Lupus, both of which where triggered during this weekend.
  4. I ended up helping the family, teaching them how to do the bandage changes, getting them in touch with the support people they needed, and also staying up the vast majority of both nights I was there in doing so.  I’m happy to report that this baby continues to do well.
  5. The first night I was there, I stayed up with my friend late talking with her, and I developed a massive migraine.  She offered me Percocet when I told her about it, which I took.  This is an opiate.
  6. On the third night, June 1st, I drove home during the night so that the boys would sleep, and arrived early in the morning to my house, which was still a mess.  I put the boys to bed, and awaited a handyman who was going to attempt to fix my dryer, which was broken, and which had contributed to most of the mess–clothes piled up everywhere.
  7. I was in a lot of pain at this point from my Lupus flare-up, and it was obvious to the handyman.  At this point I could barely climb the stairs, and my hands where almost useless from gripping the steering wheel for over 5 hours while fighting off flashbacks.  The handyman, who I knew and trusted, offered me marijuana, which I gratefully accepted, as it is used legally as a treatment for Lupus in other states, and I knew that my children would be asleep for another few hours at least.  Some would call this bad judgment, but I thought this man was an Angel Of Mercy at this point.  I had a very small amount.  I went to sleep until my kids woke up.
  8. That afternoon, my neighbor in my duplex, who had already filed Harassment Charges against me (because I screamed at her about not taking care of her 3 year old and also letting her TEN pit bulls poop indiscriminately all over the yard where my children play) decided to pick a fight with me when I told her lawn boy, who was stinking up the yard trying to fight through my neighbor’s hay field of a lawn, and causing a huge amount of noise, not to bother mowing it, that I would get it mowed, and please stop, my son has asthma, and both of my kids are trying to take a much-needed nap.  He did, and I ended up talking to him for a while about his plans for the future, which involved becoming an architect.  He was sixteen.
  9. My neighbor, Crystal Cook, called the police and told them I was Harassing her, Seducing a Young Boy, and that I had Endangered him by poking him in the chest lightheartedly when he forgot my name.  I replied, “It’s Jess.  Like Jesus–without the U.”  She also told them I thought that I was Jesus.
  10. Later that evening, my friend called to tell me that she was going to pick up the car that she had loaned me for the trip I had made to Lancaster.  It was approaching bath time, and so my two boys were in diapers only, and they scooted out onto the patio to watch me hurriedly unload the clothing and odds and ends that were still left in the car.  They were only crawling and cruising furniture at the time, and could not walk yet.  My neighbor took this opportunity to call the police again, as well as CYS, and tell them that my children were “running around outside naked unsupervised.”  I also tripped one of these times going up the steps into my house, and so she also told them that I was “extremely intoxicated” and “fell down the stairs.”
  11. CYS showed up first.  I was irate, but let them examine both my children, interview me, and take pictures of them both in their diapers.  When they asked me to then come in and inspect my house, I said absolutely not, and that my children and I were going to go inside–it was bath time.  I told them that if they wanted confirmation that my house was fit for children, that a teacher from Early Intervention (which is also through Social Services) had been there that morning, and to please come back later.  I was on my last nerve.  I slammed the door, locked it, stomped up the stairs, and proceeded to give my children a bath.
  12. When I came downstairs, my phone was ringing.  I answered it, and it was Officer James Collins, who screamed, “Are ya gonna open the door, or are we gonna bust it down??!”  He also told me that he was taking the children and taking me to jail at this point.  I told him to fuck off, he didn’t have a warrant, CYS had already examined and cleared the children, and I was going to bed.  He called the State Police for backup, and my landlord for a key.  When I incredulously saw the deadbolt of my front door turning, I said Hell Fucking No, I am protected by both the 4th and 14th amendments of the Goddamned Constitution of the United States, and sat against the door, my feet braced against the stairs.  They were going to have to go through me, literally, if they thought they were coming into my house and taking my kids for no reason.
  13. When they realized they couldn’t open the door, they started pounding on it–HARD–throwing their bodies against it, for a good 25-30 minutes.  I screamed the whole time that they were hurting us–my boys, terrified, had climbed into my lap.  Henry was naked, as he had taken off his diaper.  He peed on me while they were slamming against us.  They called my parents.  My father ended up climbing onto the roof of my basement stairs, breaking through the window of my daughter’s room, and coming down the inside stairs to open the back door for the cops.  I screamed at him not to open the door and grabbed both of the twins tight while the cops flooded in, ripped the screaming boys out of my arms, at which point my fingernail scratched my son, and I said, “Don’t make ME hurt him!!”  They took this to mean that I had intentions of hurting the children, and wrote in the report that I had peed on myself.  Only one of the cops said, “Don’t hurt her,” while they were climbing on top of me to handcuff me (not struggling) with a ridiculous amount of force and roughness.  I was bruised from head to toe by the time they were done, even having individual finger-shaped bruises on my arms where they held me down, dragged me to the truck, and threw me in with a disgusted, “She PISSED herself.”
  14. Officer Collins took me to Charles Cole Memorial Hospital, where I was held for over 10 hours before being shipped to Clarion Psychiatric.  During this time, I was forcibly held down and catheterized for a urine sample, because the doctor found that I was had good cognition with full use of my mental faculties, so then they tried to prove that I was intoxicated.  The drug test was negative for alcohol, but showed minimal amounts of opiates, marijuana (five points above the negative cutoff), and benzodiazapines, which they had forced me to take in the form of Ativan and two Haldol injections.
  15. Also, while I was there, a social worker, David Hajzus, accessed my record illegally and released the findings of my drug test to my parents, who used it against me to gain custody of my two boys.  While I was in Clarion Psych, my ex-husband Michael Ingalls, also filed a Motion for Special Relief, and my shared custody of my daughter was revoked.  Mr. Hajzus was subsequently fired for his involvement after numerous complaints from me.
  16. From this day, I have endured a two-week involuntary stay in Clarion Psych (after they 302’d me, they 303’d me, while diagnosing me with Bipolar Disorder with Psychosis), weeks without seeing my children, and countless other injustices and humiliations.
  17. After this, I have fought tooth and nail for custody of my children back, followed every rule, endured every humiliating, demeaning condition, attended every conference….
  18. Then my sister filed Trespassing Charges one day when I went to pick up my kids.  It was a set up.  She locked every other door in the house besides the one to her apartment, and so I walked through her apartment to get into the main house.  She called the police and they charged me with trespassing.
  19. So then they sent me a letter saying that they are going to revoke my bail.  Today.  Because the terms were to stay out of trouble.
  20. Here’s the Kicker, The Icing On This Fucking Shit Cake:  Today Is Mr. Anderson’s Birthday.


4 thoughts on “Now For The Criminal Bullshit.

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