optimista

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Posts posted by optimista


  1. Doing just that. Funny how things pan out. Rug pulled out from under... biggest suitcase and a one way ticket. Hugged my daughter yesterday and told her I have no idea when I will be back. Could be weeks, or months. I will miss my Alphorn, the forest, my bands, their weirdo members and loverboy. Mam and sis need help. And I am it. This is my annus horribilis. As HM would say.

     

    Thanks for all your vibes.

    5

  2. Got filmed this morning by a télévision crew :)... spent, all day in a beautiful valley puffing into the alphorns, 5 star picnic behind the chapel. As we were leaving one of the natives brought us chilled fizzy, crystal glasses and mumfies. So we stayed a bit longer.:lol:

    6

  3. Got filmed this morning by a télévision crew :)... spent, all day in a beautiful valley puffing into, the alphorns, 5 star picnic behind the chapel. As we were leaving one of the natives brought us chilled fizzy, crystal glasses and mumfies. So we stayed a bit longer.:lol:

    0

  4. No people. Tougher than that. Just expecting TT to fall over any minute. Will make one hell of a film script.

     

    Obviously I am no longer at home. But my lass in the jaws of the lion. Or not. If I am just mistaken (gaslighting :lol:)  and hubby realy is a teddy bear.

     
    0

  5. No people. Tougher than that. Just expecting TT to fall over any minute. Will make one hell of a film script.

     

    Obviously I am no longer at home. But my lass in the jaws of the lion. Or not. If I am just mistaken (gaslighting :lol:)  and hubby realy is a teddy bear.

     
    0

  6. Back in February I found myself banged up in a cell at the gendarmerie for 48 very long hours. It left me utterly traumatised. Some gendarmes were brutish thugs. I had a court appearance in May and have acquired a criminal record for violence. I am still trying to understand how I got there. It is not simple. A miscarriage of justice, unless your definition of violence is indeed slapping the cheek of a hysterical and highly disturbed teenager, to bring her back to reality the day she was admitted to the psychiatric unit in March the previous year. She stayed in 3 nights and was sent home - diagnosis was being in an anxio-depressive state but no pathology. The shrink she had just seen for the first time informed us she was suicidal but revealed no more than that. I had no idea and could not assimilate it anyway.
     
    Apparently she tried to commit suicide when she was 14. She refuses to talk about it. She confided in a teacher who apparently could not sleep for 3 nights having read her mails. School did not contact us but gave it directly to the gendarmerie. Person in danger. From herself or me ? I say me, because apparently I have been the bane of her life harrassing her and putting her under pressure constantly (hubby s version) This despite me barely having had a conversation in whole sentences with her for years. The two slaps morphed into a fist in the face - which left no marks, strangely.
     
    Do not expect any of this to make any sense. It just doesn't. The conclusion I came to after months of turning it all over and no-one being willing to impart any information - gendarmerie, school, lawyer, shrinks, hubby, my lass - I am apparently universally not worth a conversation with anyone - is that she has suffered trauma and lied, not being able to tell the actual truth - there was a second case at the gendarmerie for sexual assault which for the moment appears to have been quietly forgotten and about which I also know absolutely nothing. Hubby wants to bury it. Strangely. My lass was highly distressed and had to come up with something to justify trying to top herself. So she came up with not getting on well with me. Nice and vague. And they built a case on that scraping mist from the bottom of an empty bucket. With hubby s unofficial (as he is husband to the accused) input. And her aunt as witness, who has not seen me for literally years but paints me as maternally incompetent. I was supposed to have been so abusive - mentally - she was driven to suicide. Nobody actually said this. It was pure Kafka. But what else merited keeping me in a filthy cell for 48 hours ?
     
    It was a hellish experience, in a state of shock, panic, high anxiety, they deprived me of water, thought about drinking my own urine at one point. The cell is designed to destroy you mentally. I felt like I was losing it and would end up on psychiatric ward. At one point the second night I had 3 masked (not covid) six-footers in heavy gear - exo-skeletal protection, gun vests, guns, etc. - outside my door checking on me. I thought they had come to do their worst. The terror you experience being locked up and not understanding why necessarily induces paranoia. What was the point of that exercise ? To give them a laugh and to terrorise me. The gendarmes were woefully unprofessional. The woman who took our statements only semi-literate and unable to keep up. Institutional dysfunction. And you have no recourse. I saw the mayor about a month afterwards and she rang the gendarmerie. Twice. She got the Great Fob Off. And she is the mayor. You can report them to the controleur des lieux de privation de liberté at your peril. They point out that any false denunciation is punishable by prison and a 45K fine. Nobody is going to go there. The gendarmes have sworn oath and just need to say you are lying and you are liable to find yourself back in a cell.
     
    There were 10 weeks between coming out of the cell in an absolute state - I had to make my own way home from the court 50km away where I had appeared cognitively dysfunctional, dishevelled and stinky before a magistrate - the gendarmes just vanished without taking leave of me - and the court hearing. During that time the magistrate put me under court order. I could not see or speak to my lass. Hubby gave permission for me to live at his parents house which he owns. He took his policing duties very seriously although the magistrate had softened and said I could be at home but must not speak to my lass. Hubby (according to him) not informed of this, made sure I did not even set eyes upon her. It was utter torture. And the whole time expecting a prison sentence, which is what I had been led to believe would be the likely outcome. The thought of being in a cell again I just cannot convey.
     
    The public court appearance was gruelling. I was suprised it lasted about an hour. Expected my fate to be decided in about 10 minutes. Saw a lawyer the Friday before court on Tuesday. She read excerpts of the mails my lass had sent to her teacher and told me in passing on the Friday about the suicide attempt but divulged no details. More acute distress. Can you imagine ? The procureur requested 5 years prison (make any sense ?) suspended with two-years follow-up with a psychologist. Kid you not. The judge gave me a fine and court costs and 400 euros damages to be paid to my lass. I did after all slap her face twice. I still have to see the latter on paper and have yet to pay. None of it makes sense. I have barely spoken to the kid in whole sentences (teen monosyllabism) since she was about 12 as she withdrew to her room, screentime, i-phone and school, not to mention my frequent absence. Rejection has been the order of the day, then they blame you for negligence.
     
    Hubby's part in all this remains vague but of the essence. I think that despite his teddy-bear exterior he is pure manipulator and wants rid. I thought he was crypto gay. Well, I found the underpants with two colours of sh... clagged together with dry ejaculate in the washing basket. Not for the first time. But eventually took a photo. Sorry for that information. Too much of course. You cannot do DNA testing here as a private individual. It is pretty superfluous. Anyway, he knows I know. Confrontation useless. DARVO, ad hominem, silence. Although the label may be wrong. Possibly bi or transsexual. Also, I do not exclude incest. No proof, just doubts and suspicions and stuff that doesn't add up, unless... my lass and he hide behind the wall of complete silence. Which I find odd in itself. No protest of innocence. Just silence. All highly damaging whatever the outcome. Absolutely appalling. My lass is not in the state she is in because I fell for Him after marotal violence and neglect spanning more than a decade. Hubby sells that story as me cuckolding him. The poor victim. No contact from his family. Why would they disbelieve him and my lass ?
     
    I have since taken reluctant refuge elsewhere. Hardly dare speak to my lass in case it starts over. She refuses to talk anyway. I try to keep communicating in small steps. Cannot stand to see hubby. Avoidance is the order of the day. Have no idea where it is all going.
     
    Why did my lass lie (she had to come up with something), what is the truth (sex looms large) and why can't she tell it (PTSD and traumatised) ?
     
    I now have an understanding of trauma. A journey. The first couple of months I was displaying various symptoms. The strangest of which is your perception to stimuli of whatever sort. The gentlest touch from the dearest person is perceived as an aggression, an irritation. It has been and is a learning experience. Still trying to recover. Getting there slowly but cannot see the future.
    I see people's non-judgmental, confused circumspection - at best. Generally, people do not know what to do with this information, what to think or how to respond. It is painful.
     
    Goodbye, TT
    0

  7. Back in February I found myself banged up in a cell at the gendarmerie for 48 very long hours. It left me utterly traumatised. Some gendarmes were brutish thugs. I had a court appearance in May and have acquired a criminal record for violence. I am still trying to understand how I got there. It is not simple. A miscarriage of justice, unless your definition of violence is indeed slapping the cheek of a hysterical and highly disturbed teenager, to bring her back to reality the day she was admitted to the psychiatric unit in March the previous year. She stayed in 3 nights and was sent home - diagnosis was being in an anxio-depressive state but no pathology. The shrink she had just seen for the first time informed us she was suicidal but revealed no more than that. I had no idea and could not assimilate it anyway.
     
    Apparently she tried to commit suicide when she was 14. She refuses to talk about it. She confided in a teacher who apparently could not sleep for 3 nights having read her mails. School did not contact us but gave it directly to the gendarmerie. Person in danger. From herself or me ? I say me, because apparently I have been the bane of her life harrassing her and putting her under pressure constantly (hubby s version) This despite me barely having had a conversation in whole sentences with her for years. The two slaps morphed into a fist in the face - which left no marks, strangely.
     
    Do not expect any of this to make any sense. It just doesn't. The conclusion I came to after months of turning it all over and no-one being willing to impart any information - gendarmerie, school, lawyer, shrinks, hubby, my lass - I am apparently universally not worth a conversation with anyone - is that she has suffered trauma and lied, not being able to tell the actual truth - there was a second case at the gendarmerie for sexual assault which for the moment appears to have been quietly forgotten and about which I also know absolutely nothing. Hubby wants to bury it. Strangely. My lass was highly distressed and had to come up with something to justify trying to top herself. So she came up with not getting on well with me. Nice and vague. And they built a case on that scraping mist from the bottom of an empty bucket. With hubby s unofficial (as he is husband to the accused) input. And her aunt as witness, who has not seen me for literally years but paints me as maternally incompetent. I was supposed to have been so abusive - mentally - she was driven to suicide. Nobody actually said this. It was pure Kafka. But what else merited keeping me in a filthy cell for 48 hours ?
     
    It was a hellish experience, in a state of shock, panic, high anxiety, they deprived me of water, thought about drinking my own urine at one point. The cell is designed to destroy you mentally. I felt like I was losing it and would end up on psychiatric ward. At one point the second night I had 3 masked (not covid) six-footers in heavy gear - exo-skeletal protection, gun vests, guns, etc. - outside my door checking on me. I thought they had come to do their worst. The terror you experience being locked up and not understanding why necessarily induces paranoia. What was the point of that exercise ? To give them a laugh and to terrorise me. The gendarmes were woefully unprofessional. The woman who took our statements only semi-literate and unable to keep up. Institutional dysfunction. And you have no recourse. I saw the mayor about a month afterwards and she rang the gendarmerie. Twice. She got the Great Fob Off. And she is the mayor. You can report them to the controleur des lieux de privation de liberté at your peril. They point out that any false denunciation is punishable by prison and a 45K fine. Nobody is going to go there. The gendarmes have sworn oath and just need to say you are lying and you are liable to find yourself back in a cell.
     
    There were 10 weeks between coming out of the cell in an absolute state - I had to make my own way home from the court 50km away where I had appeared cognitively dysfunctional, dishevelled and stinky before a magistrate - the gendarmes just vanished without taking leave of me - and the court hearing. During that time the magistrate put me under court order. I could not see or speak to my lass. Hubby gave permission for me to live at his parents house which he owns. He took his policing duties very seriously although the magistrate had softened and said I could be at home but must not speak to my lass. Hubby (according to him) not informed of this, made sure I did not even set eyes upon her. It was utter torture. And the whole time expecting a prison sentence, which is what I had been led to believe would be the likely outcome. The thought of being in a cell again I just cannot convey.
     
    The public court appearance was gruelling. I was suprised it lasted about an hour. Expected my fate to be decided in about 10 minutes. Saw a lawyer the Friday before court on Tuesday. She read excerpts of the mails my lass had sent to her teacher and told me in passing on the Friday about the suicide attempt but divulged no details. More acute distress. Can you imagine ? The procureur requested 5 years prison (make any sense ?) suspended with two-years follow-up with a psychologist. Kid you not. The judge gave me a fine and court costs and 400 euros damages to be paid to my lass. I did after all slap her face twice. I still have to see the latter on paper and have yet to pay. None of it makes sense. I have barely spoken to the kid in whole sentences (teen monosyllabism) since she was about 12 as she withdrew to her room, screentime, i-phone and school, not to mention my frequent absence. Rejection has been the order of the day, then they blame you for negligence.
     
    Hubby's part in all this remains vague but of the essence. I think that despite his teddy-bear exterior he is pure manipulator and wants rid. I thought he was crypto gay. Well, I found the underpants with two colours of sh... clagged together with dry ejaculate in the washing basket. Not for the first time. But eventually took a photo. Sorry for that information. Too much of course. You cannot do DNA testing here as a private individual. It is pretty superfluous. Anyway, he knows I know. Confrontation useless. DARVO, ad hominem, silence. Although the label may be wrong. Possibly bi or transsexual. Also, I do not exclude incest. No proof, just doubts and suspicions and stuff that doesn't add up, unless... my lass and he hide behind the wall of complete silence. Which I find odd in itself. No protest of innocence. Just silence. All highly damaging whatever the outcome. Absolutely appalling. My lass is not in the state she is in because I fell for Him after marotal violence and neglect spanning more than a decade. Hubby sells that story as me cuckolding him. The poor victim. No contact from his family. Why would they disbelieve him and my lass ?
     
    I have since taken reluctant refuge elsewhere. Hardly dare speak to my lass in case it starts over. She refuses to talk anyway. I try to keep communicating in small steps. Cannot stand to see hubby. Avoidance is the order of the day. Have no idea where it is all going.
     
    Why did my lass lie (she had to come up with something), what is the truth (sex looms large) and why can't she tell it (PTSD and traumatised) ?
     
    I now have an understanding of trauma. A journey. The first couple of months I was displaying various symptoms. The strangest of which is your perception to stimuli of whatever sort. The gentlest touch from the dearest person is perceived as an aggression, an irritation. It has been and is a learning experience. Still trying to recover. Getting there slowly but cannot see the future.
    I see people's non-judgmental, confused circumspection - at best. Generally, people do not know what to do with this information, what to think or how to respond. It is painful.
     
    Goodbye, TT
    6