Frank Fitzpatrick, son of the previous owner of my home, has pleaded not guilty to manufacturing ecstasy pills and delivering meth.
A pre-trial is set for March 2. He appeared in court Jan. 30, according to Rock Island County court records.
Since I broke the story one week ago today, it has had 739 page views. You can read the story for yourself by clicking here.
In fact, in the past three weeks my website has had more than 5,000 page views. That is quite a lot.
I want to say to the Fitzpatrick family that my reporting of this story is not in malice. My family is quite aware, too, of the mess drugs make, even if every last one of them is in denial about it. I’m being blamed by them as well for not just “letting go” of what happened to me, as if I am not entitled to justice.
My parents are dead. And my family is more concerned about hushing the story than what happened to me. And that just makes me feel dirty.
We all know what happens to addicts of families who “let go” of the truth. Their addicted family members don’t get better, and many overdose and die.
Hopefully the “volunteers” from Edgewood Baptist Church, which my family attends, won’t look away from their own opioid-addicted family members, co-workers and friends when rounding up “volunteers” for the Safe Passage program.
Words heard in jail echo in my head, over, and over, and over
News of Fitzpatrick’s capture (which I discovered myself, and first reported right here) caused some pretty severe triggers as it pertains to what I heard in the jail.
I was held in the Rock Island County Jail two days on no charges at all, tortured, in the suicide hole. You can read about that here.
What I heard inside the jail has been shared with authorities I can trust.
Well, some of it I still have not shared with anyone other than my cousin Cindy and my therapist. It would sound seriously nuts.
But since so many of the other things I heard inside the jail seemingly have been corroborated, now it’s just seriously scary.
My home was illegally searched as my human rights were being violated inside the jail. You can read about that by clicking here.
Only recently have I begun to wonder what my poor 20-year-old cat must have thought was going on, God rest her soul.
All this went down as I was serving as an informant in a drug and political corruption case, and after I had been sober for a year. I also was sharing information related to what I believe to be a human trafficking “ring,” for lack of a better word.
Add to the bizarre mix that my AA sponsor, who I fired, sits on the Rock Island County Board, and the fact that my former pastor and the woman who buried my father repeatedly declined to report key information she knew with police about my illegal arrest on no charges at all….
….And the fact that other powerful people I no longer have any reason to trust…all of them running in this same community heavy-hitter circle, a circle you would have thought would have welcomed my sobriety and caregiving efforts…
Oh, it stinks bad alright! Every player involved in the trauma is someone I have known for almost a lifetime, and if anything should be extremely proud of how I have conducted myself during the past several years.
The truth is out about the filthies.
Add to this everything on the news about the FBI, memos and dossiers….
I’ve been biting my tongue so bad it’s bleeding!
So, thank God for Banana Kush flower and shatter by Progressive Treatment Solutions.
Without it, I’d be going bananas.
Banana Kush by Progressive Treatment Solutions brings me contentment
I am extremely grateful I landed a new gig when I did, because I was able to pay my house insurance and also get myself some medication.
Banana Kush is known for being a good strain for the treatment of PTSD, but it seems hard to get. I found it in Denver while I was vacationing there, and I did enjoy it very much. You can read about how I found fierce Banana Kush at the corner of Fox and Warner by clicking here.
I have to say that the Banana Kush by Progressive Treatment Solutions that I have now is even better than what I found in Denver.
For only the second time, I purchased “shatter,” which is used for the stigmatized consumption method known as “dabbing.” This is where cannabis is consumed in highly concentrated forms.
Why? Just like any medication, your tolerance does go up. You also may need a stronger dose if you medicate for breakthrough symptoms (such as what I experienced Friday morning, when the news featured a PTSD double-whammy).