A disabled American who advocates for herself

I find it telling you all seem to sit and hover over the comment section. Are you popping open your texts to talk to someone, or are you actually contemplating reaching out?

I hope everyone got the actual point yesterday. You’re watching me die, you’re watching him die, and you’re all just monsters that lack the humanity God gave a fucking alligator.

I called my mom crying this morning. I had a panic attack when I really let it sink in that they have actually erased something that happened to me and the person at fault and put fluff in the public record. All to discredit a rape victim who is just a little too loud and hard to ignore. I stand in astonishment.

I’m a historian. I did grad school and undergrad and studied pop culture, research, and the fucking sanctity of FOIA. And to use that to weaponize a lie against someone who just wants answers.

I got a cell phone number for someone in the AG’s office. I haven’t called yet. I have been too hysterical. I don’t know if I could handle that call right now. I need to make it, though. I will need to be medicated.

My mom, when I talked to her, said she might still know someone in Reno. Cool, there is this one person—she was initially the prosecutor and then became my guardian ad litem in my custody case when I was a kid. My mom said she was one of the only lawyers she trusted in Nevada.

Looked her up. Well, she is a judge in Washoe now. Wait a minute, not so much anymore. Kinda got kicked off the bench a couple months ago.

So here in Katie’s land of fantasy, that sounds pretty damn good. Like someone without a fuck left to care about who might fight on principle alone. Like who would she have left to piss off, right? She might be willing to take on the AG for some kid she knew in the ’80s. I sent an email. A couple, actually. Like the official Washoe one, but I don’t know if it would get to her, and I pulled one off her election filings. We will see.

I emailed the other Dem candidate for Governor. I had talked to her before, and I’ve phone banked for her. Because this shit? It came from Aaron Ford. This is illegal, unethical, immoral, and only the fucking head of the snake can usually pull that off. This man has the potential of being our next Governor. No, bitch. No. I have to do everything in my power.

Now let’s get to the lawyer. I sent an email in good faith, and I kind of said, you know, certain things she was doing were reminiscent of the abuse from her client, and I explained that depression is potentially fatal and just asked her to do one thing: not gaslight me. She refused. Said she was being much nicer than she should be because her client asked her to. Thanks for that, {D}. You’re such a good guy. Then she has the fucking nerve to tell me she won’t charge that much if I drop the case.

I’ll just paste in my reply:

“I knew that wouldn’t work. Okay, we play the game. I thought I could squeeze some human out of you.

Cold day in hell before I drop this suit.

I guess we are back to where we started. So, life ground rules.

1. I will not be on a phone call with you. Do not call me. Everything can be done in writing. I don’t trust you. All meet and confers are via email.

I don’t trust you, nor do I wish to go into any more back and forth with you.

You’re unhinged, not me. I am just traumatized.

And I will, for the record, say I hope to God that State Bar sees what you have done. I can only pray. I have no respect for you as an attorney, nor do I for your client. I literally thought he was one of the greats, and I have seen the cheap lawyering you’re doing. Gross. You have nothing in this case other than any mistake you can try to force my hand on. You have no defense without aid of perjury, which is obviously not beyond your client.

Go run down that street after that ambulance now.”

Then I filed my motion to compel on third discovery. She tried to narrow the entire case to the February hotel incident, and the problem with that is she wants to claim consent because the relationship continued. Well, sorry, toots. That ain’t how that works because, see, someone might not have told her or realized that I’ve spent two years writing that tome, The Law of Trauma, that explains how you argue these cases. And guess what? I’m allowed to argue our relationship in explaining why I didn’t leave. I think I had five to ten different case law notations. See, I’m an actual expert in this now. I assure you, I have read so many fucking cases. I know how this works and how to argue it in a manner that can, and usually does, win the case. It is all about jury education. Every single thing I need is admissible. All of it. It’s textbook, and so it’s kinda nice I went ahead and wrote the fucking textbook on it. Come at me. I am, if nothing fucking else, a fucking masterful researcher. This is the beauty of being a failed academic. I know things.

I am 100% on my work on that motion. I think it’s bulletproof, but we will see.

Then she sends her own motion to compel. We had been going back and forth about the production. I have Google Drives. She has access and had always had it. Well, she wants it all redone in some standard format and what the hell ever. So I told her that I don’t have a legal secretary, I am pro se, and I lack organizational skills. It would be an undue burden on me. And I was willing to argue that to the court if she so wished.

I got it, she was hyperbolizing and saying I was moving things and deleted them. No, actually, I didn’t. And of course her main thing was I wasn’t giving it to her. I gave it to her, just not the way she wanted.

So the answer was, of course, this is bullshit, I never deleted anything at all, yada yada. Then I said that, as a disabled American who advocates for herself, this was an undue burden and I am actually protected by ADA Title II and that she was clearly trying to use my disability against me and prevent a disabled person from taking part in the American legal process.

The defendant knows I have a neurological condition, and it affects my visuospatial function and makes organizational skills almost impossible for me.

I think I added something about the court needing to admonish her for her clearly disabilist behavior because I simply am a self-represented disabled American who advocates for herself.

I am kind of proud of that one too. I feel like I’m making some damn good arguments today.

And then finally I talked to my dad. Oy. It was intense. I told him about the AG, and he told me to let it go. And I told him no. It’s fucking wrong what they are doing, and I am mandated by my own moral character to not let this happen because, and this is the thing, if it is happening to me, it is most certainly happening to someone else. I ain’t special.

I was trying to go through the case with him, and he kept yelling at me. Why are there all these details you didn’t tell me before? Well, the answer is you yell at me and don’t listen. So let me tell you now. And I’m going through the issues of everything, and he didn’t know about the botched arrest? Like he was in town sitting at dinner with me while {D} was texting about pulling money out of his IRA. But it’s been a couple years. He is 75. People forget shit.

I keep trying to explain, and he keeps interrupting me. And he of course interrupts me and says, “You know, if I’m having this hard of a time following you, a jury will have issues.” I retorted, “Well, a jury won’t be interrupting me every five fucking seconds.” Like shut up and let me tell you the fucking story. I get it all explained. I can’t explain five fucking things at once. You have to layer shit. And this isn’t the jury presentation. This is, in detail, what happened. It’s not bite-sized yet because I’m not talking to a fucking jury right now.

Then we got to the video. My dad, fucking goddamn it. “What were you doing in a hotel with three men taking video?” To which I replied that it is insignificant in this case and is actually protected under rape shield because it is inconsequential as to why the video was made. Everyone was aware of the video. Everyone agreed to be on video because they were aware it was being recorded. These were not hidden cameras. That is all you need in Nevada. Actually, I don’t even need that. One-party knowledge is needed in person in Nevada, and that is the only fucking part that fucking matters.