HIMYM

Disclaimer fiction:

Bob Saget and Sherri Kramer Saget MA, MFC 46865, trapped me in a religious marriage on July 21st 2012, sealed with a Hebrew wedding prayer while stomping on some of my cheap glass bangles, “pick it up, there are children playing here”, his shahada recital, my al Fatiha and the 4 quls recital, took my signatures on every page of on a legal contract that went into his exwife lawyer Sherri Kramer’s 💼, and a pair of my bangles, and I want my 8 years back. And emancipation, a proper divorce. 

It started off with the secret wedding exposé in 2013. And I deny it, because I don’t want to be in trouble for marrying a Jew 30 years my senior. And then I’m his stupid stalker.

And I haven’t been to any of his stupid shows, I do my best to avoid him. Wish I could stop crying and get out.

I don’t “expect” to see any of my 15 mill a month in Japanese taxfree fullhouse royalties returned but it would be nice to get a faction of it, to buy me some kind of emancipation,

Not to be stuck in a lawless land, the designated scapegoat to narcissistic sociopaths, trapped in a mazel tov nikah, or “ To die, to sleep, to sleep perchance to dream”

He did say divorce three times on that day, I don’t think Triple talaaq is islamically valid, I know bigamy is. He called the contract I signed a “prenup” initially but later asked me, if I know what a phone nikkah is. I still don’t know. I had his Rolex, his Cali issued driver’s or a copy, he took photocopies of my IDs to notarise the thing. And the truth is so absurd that no one will believe it, the gaslighting via the Martha Mitchell effect doesn’t change the fact that I’m stuck in the most stealthily abusive loveless marriage.

On top of that, there’s my scleroderma and tests I need to get done,

Like the ENA panel, tests for antibodies RNP U3 and RNA DePolymerase iii,

None of which are done here.

And my London trip showed me

That I don’t have NHS access either.

So I’ll have to get them without insurance in the US and I don’t think I have enough money, too tired and without energy and just wanna die all the time. And I’m eating, sleeping, exercising, it’s hell, being dependant on repeatedly diagnosed sociopath father, who raped me when I was 13, My grades suffered because my abusive mother, saw every impending test/exam as an excuse to grumble at me, scratch, bite, beat me up; there no end to it, I have degrees but what can I do with them. I feel like I’ll never stop being a stupid victim, duped, screwed and robbed, beaten to a pulp and he’s at the centre of it because he gave me false hope.

And I’m stuck, been 8 yrs almost.

And according to the ugly man

Commenting here

He’s got Joshua and Reuben already.

I give up.

There’s no way out.

But then

He gave me his birth time

20 oh two the palindrome

Which I gave to astrotheme

That surprising still has me down as “email from family” and...

I don’t know

I need to focus on scleroderma

Not getting deported.

I hope he didn’t have sons with that silicone injected plastic peroxide blonde 40 yr old Taurus with a Pisces caricature of me.

But it’s fine if she does. It probably means I can’t have kids due being raped at 13, but TMI I do have regular periods, it could also mean he wants me to end up with Adeel Ikram born on 19th January 1986 but AI probably has a steady girlfriend, and both men are giving me the silent treatment and polyandry is islam-wise prohibited to my understanding. . . It shouldn’t be my problem, I went in completely ignorant.

I need to get my/this scleroderma diagnosed.

Which means

Couchsurfing again

Emptying my bank account

Getting a return ticket before Jan 31st Brexit

Getting an appointment with Dr Will she she will of mission Viejo ( we a hoe, which he said I won’t be able to get) getting test appointments.

Not getting deported on landing in LAX or SFO.

Exercise, release endorphins, and stop crying and feeling hopeless. Whatever happens happens; that’s life. Good talk, apparently venting to complete strangers is evidence of surviving abuse. Part and Parcel of bearing that indelible mark so to speak.

I also remind him of his dead sister Andy. Died at 34, I just turned 34 on November 27th before thanksgiving. Was still 26 on July 21st 2012. 8 yrs almost, killing me.



Actually his standard line, is “That’s okay” on loop. No shh, more like, keep talking or else he’ll psychically impinge upon your basic privacy needs, trample trample trample, locating buttcheek beauty spots/marks, until you say “shut up” super loudly; no wait, he told me to

“stop crying it’s distracting, I’m trying to figure out what happens to ur grandmother”

Though not “shh” and “I” said “Shut up” a lot.

Shh is part of a gross retelling of the Bobby Stark on Castle predator he plays.


Nana had a tracheostomy. I hope she won’t have a funeral before I see her again.

Anyway F off strangers.

I’ve vented.