The trip to Limerick was a bad turning point in my relationship with Michael. It was during a heatwave and Michael had scheduled just a few hours to meet me in Limerick and sent me a schedule which crammed a huge amount into this few hours, adding 'Welcome to my World!' After some confusion when he'd gotten confused about whether he or I was booking the tickets as he kept swapping it around, he booked the tickets for early on the Tuesday - Tuesday being his special day.
Michael knew better than me that the Green Bus was very unreliable, for myself I'd only been on it a few times to go to house sits, and it hadn't been great but as I prepared to go to Michael, the bus was so late it was covering the next bus as well as it's own schedule and thus also very crowded. Michael knew about this being fairly routine but hadn't told me. This meant the bus was running late for his packed schedule which he was so proud of - someone later told me that the packed schedule was designed to push me into decisions.
I was very stressed, I struggle with Ireland's crowded, badly maintained, unreliable public transport and being late for such a short and packed schedule was deeply worrying for me. This was supposedly my future. I spent the journey anxious, but Michael said the bus would catch up time, and it did somewhat. He met me at Annacotty, I remember him best like this, smiling, lucid, actually with me rather than drifting, actually seeing me and greeting me properly, shaking my hand and praising me for making the journey. Ah, what can I say, I liked this version of Michael, I wished he'd stay like this.
I remember his car parked where the people who I house sat for would also park, illegally alongside the Disability services entrance. He had a blue car, an old blue car, low key, no sign of property tycoon to it. We drove through Annacotty and past the salmon leap. I totally fell in love with the salmon leap, I've sat there many times since, but there's a bid to have it removed, which is heartbreaking as it's so special.
He took me to his house. All his business details claim he lives at the same number but in the nearby road, for some reason. His house was also relatively low key, but significantly the hedges and trees grown so no one could see anything from outside. He parked the car by the front door, left me there and went in to get the gate key for the back garden.
It surprised me he left me outside instead of introducing me to his wife. It surprised me when he went in and he spoke to her as if she was anyone, a friend in the street, not a loved one, and he just said 'Hello' to her, not chat or friendliness, didn't even mention I was outside and certainly didn't offer to introduce us. It was odd and I was a little confused and hurt. I do not know what is going on there, if there is coercive control, if his wife knows what he's doing, or if she's dependent, even though I heard the comments about her holding the purse strings.
Michael took me out the back to look at the garden, he wanted me to come down from Dublin while he and his wife were away and tend the garden, which was rather a big step for me. As we looked at the situation where he had planted apple trees under mature silver birch, a bad idea, and asked why the apple trees weren't fruiting, he'd zoned out as I spoke, disinterested in my answer, and then he suddenly said he needed the toilet. And indicated I was to go and wait out the front while he went to the garden toilet. This was the Michael who scares me, this is not quite normal.
I kind of hung around, wondering what his wife thought of me hanging around out there. When he came back, he gave me to gate key for when I was to make the hundreds of miles journey to do his garden and we set off.
He took me to Techstar Castletroy, where he was talking about getting my phone fixed, and then he said the phone didn't look worth repairing, and he said he'd buy me a new one, I was horrified, I told him it would take time to pay him back and I'd do the garden and so on, but he told me he'd put the phone on his business expenses. Again this is a kind of ethical dilemma that I don't like. I'm poor because I'm too honest, maybe. He knew the man at techstar but the man saw him as money and pushed us towards paying more and getting accessories, which were not necessary.
We went to see Michael's doctor. Michael had made me do a letter of notes for the doctor, and had even asked if I would give him the medical detail for the doctor, which I really did not like or want to do, so I didn't, I sent them directly to the doctor.
Unfortunately the doctor hadn't read the notes, also the whole situation was unclear. I was made to register with the practice, as far as I know, as a private patient paid for by Michael. I was HSE registred with a doctor in Dublin who I had never seen, because the practice was too far away and off a bus route, for me to reach, and HSE doctor allocations refused to change this - two years later and having long given up on HSE, I'm still presumably registered there.
Back to Michael's doctor. Michael sat outside in the car and left me to go in, struggle and panic as HSE experiences means I'm terrified of medical practices and have trouble stating my details due to my communication issues. I managed to register, stated and put it on the paperwork that I cannot take phonecalls, because medical practices in Ireland don't accept communication disorders and force phonecalls.
I waited and I was called to the Doctor's room. He was very old and was from a time when autism, mental health, trauma, abuse and so on were still taboo, and he was keeping it that way, his specialism was pregnant women, I think and that wasn't me. He hadn't read the notes Michael had pushed me to send him and Michael had put me under pressure over this, so I wasn't happy, I couldn't verbally explain myself to this stranger who was from a different time, a time when things weren't talked about.
He focused on my physical health, which despite being complex, does not meet the demanding schedule for disability allowance. Michael had brought me here to push me onto disability allowance something he was fixated on alongside fuel allowance. He said he'd do my prescriptions, but he didn't, he said he'd send them to my pharmacy in Dun Laoghaire and he simply didn't, which is one of many hurts to do with this matter, I have no explanation.
The whole thing was a mess as I couldn't verbalise things to a stranger who did not understand the impact of abuse and violence, he was too old, he told me he'd have to fake things and write me as suffering severe depression to get me disability allowance, I was not happy, I don't suffer clinical depression and that is very evident, and was at the time. If I suffered severe depression, I would need care, and anti-depressants, and I would not have been able to get up early and get to Limerick. I would not be keeping the penthouse spotless as the all my pictures and videos show. I suffer severe complex PTSD, which incorporates a kind of depression caused by trauma, not the same thing as clinical depression. I was put in a situation where medical fraud was being forced on me, and this harmed my mental health even before the use of this data became a serious issue. The doctor said he'd read what I'd sent him by email and would do a covering letter.
The doctor wasn't interested in me, he was interested in Michael, kept talking about Michael, asked what I thought of Michael. The question appeared loaded but I didn't make anything of it at the time. He made a confusion about addresses, even though I clarified, I needed the medical forms and his covering letter which he said he'd do when he'd read the medical information I sent him, sent to the penthouse but my address for the application itself was my mailbox as I was still classified as homeless and the DSP accepted the mailbox. I told him this repeatedly, clarified, and he said 'I'm going to get Michael so that I know what address this is going to'. He basically dismissed me as worthless and wanted a chat with Michael, who was not just his patient but his friend. He got Michael in and immediately breached medical data verbally to Michael, leaving me humiliated, although Michael was spaced out, not with us at all when the doctor did that. Michael was wherever Michael goes when Michael is out of his head.
The doctor started on about addresses again, and Michael and I clarified, again, the doctor wrote the penthouse address down, asked Michael for the Eircode. Michael spelled it out several times and then he and the doctor talked sport and gossip, I was an afterthought and scarlet at having very private data verbally breached to Michael, it doesn't matter who Michael was or what he was doing for me, this was illegal and inappropriate. We left and Michael was taking me to see the apartment he wanted me to live in with the man.
The experience was grim. The man was away, and Michael had arranged the visit for when the man was away. The apartment was in the block opposite St John's Cathedral, right next to the Off Licence and in a really bad area, but Michael neither mentioned how bad the area was nor that the apartment was next to the off licence and there was a lot of trouble there with substance abusers, all he said was that the security firm were good and he'd never had any trouble, the place was all protected by codes, barriers and security gates. Michael had trouble remembering the code for the car park at the back.
The apartment he took me to was smelly and dirty, it was dark, the front window was missing, just a wall, it's the one next to the off-licence if you're ever on Cathedral Place, the apartment was number 2, I think. Michael boasted that he owned a number of apartments there and was 'mentoring' vulnerable families who were his tenants, the seeds of confusion came from that, why was he mentoring tenant families? He stopped to speak to a child playing at the doorway but didn't speak to the adults as he took me into the apartment. He told me I'd have the ensuite, which the man currently inhabited and the man would have the spare room. When Michael took me to the ensuite, I was horrified by the state of it, and he didn't let me see the bathroom as it was apparently too bad.
Michael told me I'd spend most of my time in my room, the man would have the run of the house and I'd have a specific time to use the tiny kitchen, which I'd have to get to via the living room where the man would be watching television. To get to the ensuite room, I'd have to get past the man's bedroom, I was not comfortable I'd have to get past this man, even before meeting him, the state of the place spoke volumes and obviously being confined to my room, with the man resentful of being moved to the spare room, was a recipe for trouble. On top of this, Michael intended me to sign paperwork declaring myself the only tenant. He told me that the man was there under the radar, in trouble with the authorities in Galway, not allowed to have a tenancy, and not paying Michael any rent, Michael was using him as a driver when he drank, and a gardener and so on, in return for the accommodation. Michael said that moving me in would help to persuade the man to move on, I didn't believe this, I felt the man would resent me and drive me out. What Michael was doing here was dangerously irresponsible and I couldn't see it working.
Michael took me to the Horse and Hound pub just up the road. We had lunch. As we headed back to the apartment as he said he wanted us to have another look, he pointed out Sexton Street School and said he was a teacher there and that his aim had been to push every boy into university. Again this worried me, some people don't have the means or aptitude for university and some do better without.
As we went back to the apartments. The man I would be sharing with turned up, he ignored me and refused to acknowledge me at all as he spoke to Michael. His name was Padraig or Paraic. He was talking to Michael about his trip to Galway and how there was no progress. He'd just come back from Galway. It was hot outside, the car was hot when we left. I was not at all happy about the proposed move and knew I'd end up homeless if I said no. Michael kept saying 'It's better than winter on the streets' and I didn't have the heart to correct him. I am terrified in bad conditions indoors and would struggle more with that than if I was homeless.
Michael was bored now and dropped me at People's Park, saying he was late for a meeting. He told me to sit in People's Park. I don't sit in parks and that one is very dangerous. I walked back to the bus in the scorching heat. Back then, the Green Bus was much worse than now, it would stop at Portaloise and because the previous buses hadn't run, there was a huge crowd and the bus took more passengers than it had capacity, squashed in and unable to put my neck brace on, despite the weather, the heating was on on the bus, and I suffered heatstroke and became very ill.
At the Penthouse, with the sun beating down on the south facing penthouse and the hot weather and bank holiday increasing the noise and antisocial behaviour and cannabis on the communal terrace, I had to keep the windows and doors closed and the place was stifling hot. Michael didn't care, denied the whole thing, failed to engage and the noise left me sleeping with earplugs and headphones and still hearing it. I had to sleep clothes due to the men staring through the fence slats, as previously described, they knew I was there.
Michael was putting intolerable pressure on me at this point to complete the disability application and get it sent in by the end of the week, but his doctor had not sent the paperwork so I couldn't. Michael boasted that he knew the Minister for Social Protection personally and that if I had the application in by Thursday he could use his connections to push the application through within 4 weeks instead of the usual 12 that it would normally take. His urgency was a red flag, but I was too ill and tired to really understand, I tried to get the application in and made myself more ill by fighting to do so, but the doctor's paperwork was missing.
I was very ill, the stress was too much, the heat, the illness, and Michael, and then when I told him the green bus was too much and I'd have to take the other bus or the train, he put in capital letters that all I had to do first was the disability allowance, and he added exclamation marks. It was the last straw and I told him that he was not in charge of my life and did not get to order me about, and I stopped communicating with him. The paperwork from the doctor had not arrived but Michael was mindlessly pushing me to send the application, which couldn't be sent without the paperwork. He was unaware that I had to go out in the heat to print large amounts of proofs to go with the application but couldn't send it without the doctor's form and letter.
I knew that Michael wasn't that botherered about me, whatever he was doing was for his own purpose, and I knew that because he'd not responded to concerns about the current situation and I was really suffering, it would be positively dangerous to go ahead with him moving me to live with the man at Cathedral Place. So I decided to leave, to get away from this nightmare. And when I told Michael, he made it clear he didn't care, telling me to leave the keys in the post room, no interest. The fact I went back to him after this astounds me, it was a mistake I'm still paying for.
I had a house sit on the Limerick Clare border, a repeat one. Michael had messed with my house sitting, telling me to take house sits I didn't want or like, so I'd taken this one even though it wasn't a good one, it was a repeat one I'd done several times. After that I'd be back on the streets.
I left the penthouse and went to the house sit brokenhearted, lost. I couldn't bear to speak to Michael, I wrote something, blaming myself and talking about what had happened. He decided he would come and meet me and he did.
Even now, to this day, if I stop outside the old Debenhams, now Mango, in Limerick, a blue car crosses the junction, just as Michael's did that morning when he came to find me. He pulled up immediately over the junction, dangerously blocking the lane, because he was a bit of a crazy driver. It was hard to cross the road due to traffic, but I went to him and he took us to a petrol station, the Inver up Dublin Road. He talked about how it was quiet without the school traffic, and boasted how he got the bus so he didn't drink and drive, he was as eccentric as ever. He said that he knew I wasn't happy but at least I had his number in my phone - one of his mantras which equates to him being the big man to his mentees. He is full of himself, but he's also very eccentric.
At the petrol station, Michael ate most of the breakfast as I was in relapse and afraid of choking, relapse means my muscles don't work efficiently and I'm more likely to choke. The food was hard or crumby. I could barely speak as I was very upset over everything and very tired and my self-esteem had plummeted and I was afraid for the future and at a total loss over Michael, at this point I adored him as my rescuer while also knowing that the whole thing was too strange and what he did was too erratic, but he'd cared enough to come and find me, even if he was complaining he'd be late for a business breakfast.
He said to me 'Do you trust me?' and I was at a loss, I said yes. He then started trying to talk about the doctor but I was too upset and told him no. He told me he had an apartment for me, it was just for me but it had outside stairs, this was Wellesley Court, he said we'd go and look, but he'd forgotten the keys. He started on about the penthouse, the drugs and smoke and antisocial behaviour and he said 'but didn't you have to deal with that on the streets?' He had no understanding of things, on the streets I could get away from things, trapped indoors, when a lifetime of abuse indoors has made me anxious indoors, trapped up there utterly alone in the evening and no security or concierge on duty, undeclared and with the noise and drink and drugs, terrified, is nothing like being on the streets and moving away from anything that troubled me, staying solitary.
I tried to explain but Michael was gone out of his head, no longer with me, ignoring what I said because he simply was vacant, absent. I mentioned minor epilepsy later on after the October 10th matter.
This is an unfinished post, please wait for the conclusion.
Comments
Post a Comment