Drugdealers...The PPD...Sears...and a Stalker (Me?) Pt. 2

So a friend of mine told me about a special at the gym across the way.  He insisted that I go and fast, because the gym ended the promotion that night.  I was interested in losing some weight and went over there.  When I got there I discovered from the man working there that Steve worked out there, too.  It had been two months since I had last spoke to him.  There were always police cars in my general vicinity on my way to work and stuff.  I didn't know how to take it.  One morning, I had even saw Steve come off a side street.  Could this be it?  Will I be able to talk to him about my brother and get him to get him a break?  I wanted to talk to him so bad.  Not just for my brother, but for me, too.  So when I approached him in the gym one night, and he had gotten so buff, I just melted at the sight of him.  He didn't ask me any questions and I didn't feel comfortable asking him any at that time.  We just spent the next 11 months not speaking, and unknowingly I was being set-up.
You remember that scene in "Silence of the Lamb" when Clarice asked her boss why he didn't just tell her why she was going to see Lector.  He replied that if she knew, Lector would have smelled it a mile away.  She had to go in without an agenda, and Lector wouldn't suspect she was in on the game, and would be more cooperative.  That's the story of my last 10 years.  I never know what's going on, and I never know where I will be from day to day.  I just know I will be going and Steve will be there when I get there.  Along with a whole bunch of Local, State and Federal snitches to help me along the way.  I had mad back every step of the way.  I'm not sure who was who, and would name names if I did.  Those people were good to me and helped me along this path that was incredible frightening and discouraging all at once.  But my Baby, he never left me and is with me now.
The Stalker thing came from Pam's younger brother Jon or Jukie.  We went together back in 1991, ironically shortly before I met Patricia - - Paul's abused girlfriend.  One morning, I awoke to a crane and chain in their backyard at the house on Pearsall.  His brother Nate's truck was being repossessed.  He had come to the door to borrow Jon's truck, because he was laying concrete and asphalt at the time and had a job pending.  During his conversation he let it slip that he would be going around the corner and getting the money for his truck from my brother's drug boss.  I lay there in silence, but I was confused...Why is a police sergeants brother dealing with a drug dealer.  Then I found out that that same brother's girlfriend was this dealer's first cousin.  Talk about keeping it in the family!  Once we had broken up, it became Nate's job to make my ability to tell what he said obsolete, so he began to call me a stalker.  In fact, I hear the entire Chamber's clan began to call me a stalker.  Pam, Herlon, Mita and Nate, not to mention their mother.  We have other issues that will appear in another blog...Back to Steve and me.
So now I'm going to the gym..Off and on...Since Steve won't talk to me it gets boring and I stop.  That part of their plan sorely backfires, because everyone knows that the gym, work and school don't mix.  Since I worked full-time, went o school part-time and got all A's, the gym took a backseat to class and homework.  All they had was seven (7) letters I had written to Steve over seven months.  It was clearly enough for us, because it worked.  He got on the stand and called me crazy and I had derelict attorneys who worked for the people and I got convicted and got probation.  A year later, still stuck on Steve and his technological romancing, I walked in front of his house and went to prison.
Now understand, I have never hit him, fought his girlfriend (which he never had one), been on his property, broke anything that belonged to him...Boiled his bunny..Nothing!  All they had was seven (7) letters that contained no threats, no violence...NOTHING!  Everyone who reads this is able to get any of my information about my case.  It's public information, and open to whomever wants to read it.  If you'd like I could send copies of the letters, but they wouldn't do much good.  Steve only put the parts in them that made me look bad, and took out all of the stuff that made him look bad and rather desperate to be with me...I might add.
So I go to  prison after doing about three (3) weeks in county jail, another blog to come.
While in prison, I refuse to bulldag and get into fights and arguments with my bunkies.  Since I'm in prison, but I'm not in prison for real they have to devise a plan to keep me safe and out of trouble; right?  You would think.  So they move me around, a lot.  Then they call me crazy.  Well, mentally disturbed...or whatever.  This is something that I they do for women who can't a"get along" in the program with ties to law enforcement.  At the time the Residential Treatment Program (RTP) was this:

• Your own room - - no bunky
• We ate in the unit - -  meals were brought to us
• No outside contact at all with general population (super dykes)

Not wanting to be sleep deprived and harassed for not being a bulldagger, I stayed in the mental unit.  I fought taking the medication for a while, but this nurse called me into the office after I was caught cheeking my pill and told me that if I refused to take medication I could not stay in that unit.  Weighing th pros and cons of going back out there with the bulldyke, I TOOK THE MEDICATION.  My survival depended on it, because I promised myself I would never have sex with another woman, and guess what...  For two (2) years I lived in room #4; alone.  Unlike the first place I was parked in the mental ward, I had a key and my door wasn't locked at night.  It was a regular unit and I was in complete bliss!  My bestfriend, who is not my girlfriend, Moon lived right next door.  It was a little slice of prison heaven - - if a place should ever exist.  You would think with all the stuff that I'm getting from Oakland University and others like my 350 pound sister, who is truly mentally ill...Who can't stop eating???  I would regret my time in RTP, but I don't.  I met some real good solid people there, who although they may have been gay, didn't press me to be gay.

When I came home the general consensus would of course since I had been to prison, I was naturally gay.  But nope, not me, I'm still straight, never have been with a woman in my 40 years of living.  How could I with Steve and the FBI watching my every move; anyway.  Not that I wanted to, but that would be pretty overtly freaky to have them watching.

I did my time, and now I'm home.  Steve is hiding out somewhere, waiting for the last of the crooked fraction to be disposed of on November 12, 2010.  He left on November 13, almost a year to the day of the last and final PPD cut.  It has been a nine (9) year journey for us an I hope that with that final cut it is all over for us and we ca start our lives.  I don't think Paul was cut yet, because they are waiting to talk to my friend to cause him the same humiliation he tried to inflict on Steve nine years ago.  Pam Chambers conned the City of Pontiac out of a few paychecks, when she went to DC on assignment for Pontiac and got a new job there.  She collected a couple of paychecks on the city, before getting caught.  Paul hasn't given up on destroying me yet, and that will be his utter disgrace. 

Back in March when he heard that Steve and I would be getting married, he went to him and lied about my trying to use him to contact Steve.  A lie that he told, because I haven't seen him in almost six (6) years either. With his antics at the local stores I patronize, telling people I'm crazy and that I've been to prison, he is still caught up in me.  How sad will he be when his "help" is gone from the PPD, Steve comes home and doesn't care about this blog and tells him "Oh, really?"  How stupid can one man be?  How dumb can anybody be to think they can beat our Federal Government?  How mean can you be to hold on to a job that your about to get fired from?  Why not just resign and save face.  Steve is not coming back here with a vengeance towards me, but you, because you won't stop messing with me!  You don't have anymore letters, and no matter how many crooked cops family members and friends follow me through the city, I'm not going towards Steve's house, I'm not calling him - - he's not at work anyway!  I'm not going to e-mail him, hit him up on Facebook NOTHING.  This is a blog and protected by my First Amendment Right to "Freedom of Speech".  A personal protection order can't stop someone from saying things about you.  There is nothing demeaning or slanderous about Steve in this blog.  It's all what sums up to be the truth.  If you want to weigh if what I say is true or not.  Think about this, I'm not afraid right now.  I don't need to be, because Steve is with me.  Although I never know what will happen to me next, whatever it is, it's all nearing the end.

No one could ever know my pain, no one can ever give me back the last nine (9) years and no one can EVER be me.  Do what I did, I dare you!  You can stand in judgement that I loved a man, too much.  But it's best to leave that judgement to God, because I think I loved him just enough to crush a corrupt and unfair system of cops, administrators and thieves who would have destroyed us if we didn't hold on to the truth, justice and one another...Stay tuned!