DRAFT
While we lived together, I pursued mental health services for my complex PTSD (C-PTSD). The full toxicity of our relationship still hadn’t fully reached a conscious level, and I was later betrayed by the very system designed to help. As previously stated, this is a very complex journey with multiple layers and intricacies.
Unfortunately, my therapist through Kaiser Permanente continued to taunt me on a weekly basis by talking about how good rabbit stew tastes, even though he knew my rabbits were my emotional support animals. When he subsequently texted me a recipe for rabbit stew, I fired him.
2021
While taking care of Jo during those six months, Mr. Roberts and his sister Betty were at each other's throats. They would tell each other off, and Mr. Roberts would yell into the phone, “f**k you!” before hanging up. Then he'd come to me and brag about it. Mr. Roberts threatened Betty on more than one occasion to call elder abuse on her because Betty wouldn’t allow Jo to have her clothes or other personal belongings while staying with us. This led me to buy Jo a new wardrobe, which was running up the credit card debt. I warned Mr. Roberts three times to check the credit card statement, but instead, he texted me with “Money is no object. Do your thing.” When he finally checked the credit card statement, it was at its limit, which he blamed me for. Regardless, I continued to treat Jo very well, and she reveled in.
2022
There I was, stranded in the back of my vehicle, without a home, and without legal representation, when I received a demand email from Mr. Roberts’ attorney, Mr. Conrad. The timing couldn’t have been worse, but then, it was fitting for the circumstances.
It was a demand for document production. I had just been released from the hospital. Mr. Conrad was right; I did owe him documents for the divorce. If I'd had legal representation, the need to send me a terse email wouldn’t have been necessary.
After having Mr. Roberts’ wages garnished, it took a couple of months to start receiving the checks, but I was finally able to retain counsel again. Looking back, I still believe that Lisa Mumford was the best attorney for me, but she had let me go as her client because of the delinquent spousal support. The legal counsel I retained after Lisa was good enough--Gail Fishburn--but she abruptly quit. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I was left with ‘Pete and Repeat.’
I was not only trying to cope with the demands of the impending divorce proceedings but also with the temporary protective order Mr. Roberts filed against me out of retaliation, which effectively served as a gag order, in addition to the fact that I was homeless and living stranded in the back of the Toyota Highlander with a cracked radiator.
Then I was hospitalized with four bleeding ulcers, which left me anemic to the point where I couldn’t even sit up or I’d pass out. I waited a little while to see if I’d feel any better before calling 911, but it just got worse. The longest I could wait before calling 911 was approximately 45 minutes because I was quickly losing my ability to even move.
So, I called and waited for the EMTs to slide me out of the back of the Highlander because, by that time, I could no longer sit up. When they arrived, they instructed me to get out of the Highlander. But how was I going to do that without their assistance? This was when I knew this wasn’t the fire department I was dealing with. They would have had me out of there in no time instead of pulling at my ankles, trying to get me to sit up and scoot out.
They finally slid me out the back, and I couldn’t stand or walk on my own. Reluctantly, they offered me assistance as I got inside the ambulance. That’s when they checked my vitals and took me to the ED. Once in the ED, I had to use the bathroom. But instead of wheeling me to the restroom, they had me walk. I was near collapse the entire way.
Once in the restroom, I collapsed to the floor while trying to stand up after using the toilet. I could barely reach the door handle to get the door open so that I could ask for help. The attending nurse admonished me for not using the pull cord to request assistance, which I couldn't reach or even find. Then she admonished me for letting my hospital gown slip off my shoulders. It hadn’t been tied properly to stay on as I collapsed to the floor. It was the end of her shift and I suppose she was ready to go home.
Then they helped me back to my bed. I was barely aware of what was going on around me because I was so focused on making it back to the bed, with their help, of course. I didn’t even have it in me to cuss anybody out for not taking my condition seriously.
The doctor arrived and provided me with the results of the blood work. That’s when I found out that my iron was well below the normal range, which explained why I collapsed in the restroom when I attempted to stand.
I was subsequently admitted to the hospital, where I received an external catheter known as a wick, fluids, and a blood transfusion. They were going to give me two blood transfusions but changed it to one, which landed me in the hospital again just a few days after being released.
The second time when I was in the ED before being admitted, they had poked me numerous times trying to get a vein. They finally went for the carotid artery because that was a sure bet. I remember my neck bothering me and feeling swollen after I’d been discharged from the hospital. The second time I was hospitalized, it was quite a fiasco.
The nurse gave me a medication I wasn’t supposed to have, which lowered my blood pressure even further. The procedure in this case was to put sticker pads on my chest and keep a crash cart nearby just in case I went into cardiac arrest.
They kept poking my hands and arms trying to draw blood but each poke with the needle didn’t yield any results. Finally. I took my Sharpie out and started drawing Xs on my hands and arms, to show where they’d already tried. Finally, they called in a specialist who used a sonogram to find a vein, and they put in an IV. So, I had two IVs: one in my arm, and one in my neck.
The next fiasco was when they wouldn’t let me eat for two days. Their initial plan was to perform an endoscopy on me, but they couldn’t because it required anesthesia, and they couldn’t give me anesthesia because the nurse had given me blood pressure medication even though it was listed under medications not to give. Noted in my electronic medical records:
“…patient received two anti-hypertensives this AM. Procedure aborted as cannot provide sedation with blood pressure this low.”
Two days and two blood transfusions later, my blood pressure stabilized and I was able to have the endoscopy done. Whatever anesthesia they used worked great. I didn’t even remember them giving it to me. When I woke up, I was back in my room and they were poking me again for a blood sample, just not where I had drawn the black Xs on my arms and hands. At one point, I negotiated a two-hour reprieve from them taking more blood. The two hours passed quickly, and they were back to poking me with needles again.
I was homeless while recovering from my hospital stay, on top of the stress my soon-to-be ex-husband was putting me through due to psychological warfare against me in addition to my chronic pain condition, chronic fatigue, migraines, and debilitating anxiety!
While I was in the hospital, they didn't prepare me for what to expect with the colonoscopy prep, and I ended up having to buy my own adult diapers, wet wipes, and leggings, which I purchased on Instacart and had delivered to my room.
While in the hospital, I kept journal entries on my phone.
Journal entry:
“The first blood transfusion I received was due to anemia caused by four bleeding ulcers, which they closed up during my first hospital stay.
The second blood transfusion was due to being released from the hospital too soon, being readmitted, and then given the wrong medication, causing staff to bring out the ‘crash cart’ because it caused my blood pressure to drop drastically.
The third time was when my blood pressure dropped again so low during preparation for another procedure that they had to give me a third transfusion.
Good grief! I’m still woozy, but I can get up and use the bathroom now. Before, they put a bedpan underneath me to pee while lying in bed (so embarrassing), and then they gave me a wick that sucks up the pee. But then, the last time I used it, it didn’t suck it up. So, I had to change clothes, and they changed the bedding.
Nobody warned me just how dreadful the prep would be for a colonoscopy!!! They didn’t even have supplies such as wet wipes, adult diapers, or even just a word of caution! I got into the shower with my IVs at 4:00 a.m. I was so pissed! They were telling me to get out of the shower, and I was telling them, I’m not getting out of the shower!” I finally got out when the Instacart delivery arrived.
The Liars Lips are Moving
During the contentious divorce, there are myriad examples of blatant lies told by Mr. Roberts.
Two examples are: 1) in an attempt to offset the spousal support he was paying me, he claimed on October 21, 2022, that my rabbits had been boarded at House Rabbit Society (HRS) in Richmond for 369 days at $80 per day, totaling $29,520.00, even though HRS hadn’t resumed boarding rabbits until one month prior to his claim, due to the COVID pandemic.
2) When Mr. Roberts claimed that I took $30,000.00 out of the safe he kept in the garage in September 2021, he failed to mention that I didn’t have the combination to the safe. Even if that were true, how would he know the month, since he was barred from coming to the marital home due to the temporary protective order I had against him from August 20 through October 13, 2021? I’ve never had the combination and was unable to open it even when I did attempt it. I contacted a handyman named Luis to see if he could help me out, but he said he could not.
Almost all of Mr. Roberts’ lies were easy to refute with documentation and video surveillance footage. Each time he accused me of lying, I was able to prove otherwise. Alternatively, each time he lied about me, I was equally able to refute it.
C-PTSD
Because of my diagnosis with complex PTSD beginning in 2011, I have since been diagnosed with it multiple times and would like to share some insight into it:
“Complex PTSD (C-PTSD) stems from prolonged, repeated trauma rather than a single event. It includes the core symptoms of traditional PTSD—such as flashbacks, avoidance, and hypervigilance—along with three additional categories known as Disturbances of Self-Organization (DSO): emotional dysregulation, interpersonal struggles, and a negative self-concept.”
Email to my attorney Gail regarding my rabbits on 10/21/2022:
“…Also, how could he have been boarding my bunnies for 369 days at House Rabbit Society when they’ve only resumed boarding rabbits approximately one month ago? I have been checking on their boarding services since August 2021. And why would he try to arrange for me to pick them up at the Humane Society?”
Email to Attorney Gail Fishburn on 8/2/2022:
“Timing of Spousal Support:
Please note that when Mr. Conrad makes excuses for the delinquent spousal support payments, the facts of how this played out are as follows:
Mr. Roberts was delinquent with January’s payment. I then filed an earnings assignment against him. Before doing so, I advised Mr. Conrad of my plans and included the paperwork with my email to him, in addition to advising him that my vehicle had become disabled, and that I was stranded in Pacifica 46 miles away, without any means to travel to Martinez, thus my providing him with a Pacifica mailing address.
Nothing came of my communications with Mr. Conrad. Therefore, I filed the paperwork by mail, and had everyone served by mail. Mr. Roberts then chose to contact my former attorney, to get my banking information, which he’d already had since 10/13/2021. He then chose to use an online banking service that takes two weeks to process a request, to have a check sent to an address in Martinez that I was no longer able to use. He did the same thing with February’s spousal support payment. I was ill, living in a disabled vehicle, homeless, and penniless, 46 miles away.
He did the same thing in March. That month, a friend of his from high school reached out to me on Facebook and offered to go pick up my mail and send it to me. I scraped together enough coins for a stamped envelope, and sent my new friend the key to my PO Box there, then collapsed at the post office, and ended up being hospitalized twice that month because of four bleeding ulcers and anemia.
Mr. Roberts was successful in reducing the amount of spousal support I receive, while I was still recuperating from my months-long ordeal. His wages are now being garnished at a lesser amount. Regardless, I started staying at a hotel in May, but have not secured permanent housing, which is my goal for my rabbits. Where are they?!”
My concern for my rabbits was an urgent matter as far as I was concerned.
