If You Don’t Know Me By Now

 

My Son Before He Was Kidnapped

“We get into relapse when there are too many stressors that accumulate or one stressor that’s just too much to handle.”

So says Teal Swan in one of her many insightful, healing YouTube videos about relapse prevention and addiction. Her message is one not only for people struggling with the “traditional” types of addiction through the veil of substance abuse. Anyone can relapse into anything non-substance related as well, including me.

If, like me, you have dealt with despair, depression, self-isolation, and the likes of it, then you have probably “relapsed” because you dealt with this, whatever your struggle was, more than once.

There is a little being inside of us, all of us, even if it is stifled. We should dialogue with it, even more so if we have children. I once spoke of having children as something figurative. Now, it’s a literal reality.

It’s a reality that bled over into a living nightmare when nearly everyone who was close to me at the time conspired to rip that newborn away from me when he was only four and a half months old, and still breastfeeding. This crime culminated on May 28th, 2016. Those who weren’t masterminding the criminal actions were passive onlookers and enablers of the crimes.

To the date of writing this, I’m still dealing with this situation, the kidnapping of my son.

I was even getting surveilled on some of my social media platforms by these criminals while they dug for dirt when there was nothing to find except me being open about my lifestyle and my choices…

That harmed no one, no man or woman.

For a time, I was unattracted to putting any more information out there for the sake of my sanity and privacy. I needed a long, fucking long, break. Fuck all the writing I used to do. I needed to pause.

‘What really matters to me?’ I had to ask myself.

‘Him, that little boy,’ came the reply from the inner little being.

‘Okay, so fuck everybody else except my son,’ became my motto, at least for some time initially.

I have had a lot of time to think and hurt about it all. The details of how and in what ways — these are too intimate, too private, as was the nature of the relationship between me and the man whom I conceived my son with.

I would have started over in every way for the sake of my son, but then I realized that this was further isolation. This situation was bigger than me and bigger than the criminals who perpetrated this wrong on me and my little one.

I was paralyzed with a multitude of options that I knew I wanted to take. I knew not all of them were the wisest. Some might have seemed radical. Some were what a large body of society would accept as valid (a.k.a. getting a lawyer, I mean, a liar, and going through the family court system at the local circuit court).

If this was a political decision and move on the part of these criminals to serve their actions, I don’t need to be a part of that. I don’t do things for political means and gains. It goes against my very nature as human.

Well, I might not need to denature myself and become what I’m not or not supposed to be, but it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do something about a harmful situation happening in my life as it’s happening now.

Which brings me back here, back to the topic of relapse and all that: the kidnapping of my son severely wounded me when I, in my postpartum state, was already vulnerable. This was re-traumatizing after all the abuse I had already been through and was willing to forgive at the hands of these criminals who were (still are) liable for all the above thus far.

For that reason, maybe I needed to “relapse,” in my case to give me that final push, a burst of strength because I had motivation to do what’s right, truly right.

These criminals who kidnapped my son banked on my weakness, my vulnerability, my acquiescence, my blind and codependent compliance, my fear. This was about power and control for them, not about my son or “protecting” him.

Someone tell me it wasn’t and that is was truly about the medical needs of my son, which were being taken care of as I saw fit, which were unfounded in court as any grounds for claiming child abuse.

Someone, please, tell me: was this not reaching, carrying on a witch hunt against my freely made choices to care for my son’s medical needs how I saw fit?!

I mean, he is my son, he did come from my body, and I am his mother. That’s my unalienable, negative right to make choices about that matter. It’s fraud for anyone to convey or act upon the notion of anything to the contrary, as these criminals have done.

I have responded to their attacks in the past without much gusto or stance, in a similar way they expected me to respond this time. I was up and down, but not because of something inherently wrong with me and definitely not something I had planted the seeds for.

For this much, they were to blame for sowing those seeds by carrying out the abuses that had caused so much disintegration within me, so much post-traumatic stress. How I responded to situations later apart from these people was my responsibility, but I struggled because of the abuse I had suffered.

Now, I’m here. I could have made the choice to remain quiet, to let things go, to cut my losses. Besides, who would believe me without proof of what they did?

I had a lot to grapple with, but I decided to choose differently this time. I decided to go beyond that place, to simply start by leaving isolation and begin speaking up.

Oftentimes, I wouldn’t have named names or I would have talked about a troublesome individual vaguely. I thought it would be petty to air dirty laundry.

Nah, not this time.

Who are they? I’m asking that question out loud and at least one other will be asking. Why else would you, or you, be reading this?

Read on further then.

Let’s take a look at the criminals who conspired and allowed my son to be kidnapped through the lawless family court system of Maryland:

Ehren Freyer Ellicott City Columbia Maryland

Ehren Hans Freyer, also known as a freelance musician in the Ellicott City, Maryland region

Dave Marsh, musician, Washington, D.C.

David Walter Marsh, my father and a musician known throughout the metropolitan DMV area

Darline Tongue, Darline's Travel, Bowie, Maryland

Darline Marsh, David’s wife and also a travel agent

Melvin C High, Prince George's County Sheriff, Maryland

Melvin C. High, the Sheriff of Prince George’s County, is pictured above in place of his rogue deputy sheriff.

He will do for now. He’s his boss.

Here’s a direct quote from that Deputy Sheriff to me when he came to take my son:

“It’s a fucked up situation”

Sally J Marsh, Dance Instructor, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Sally Janelle Marsh, my sister and a dance instructor in Philadelphia, PA, who also forged a document over to the other criminals in their conspiracy to conceal her abuses and avoid accountability.

Linda Y. Cureton, Former NASA CIO, Author, The Leadership Muse, Bowie Mitchellville Largo, Maryland

Linda Yvette Cureton, David’s sister, former client and author of The Leadership Muse

Cheryl Leslie Crocket, CACI, Poet-a-tete, Writer Poet Blogger Social Media, Washington, D.C.

Cheryl Leslie Crockett, my mother and a hostile, antagonistic observer

Yemisi Akinneye, Woodmore Mathnasium Bowie Mitchellville, Maryland

Yemisi Akinneye, along with her hostile witness of a husband Victor Akinneye, is the missing link, since it was her coercive breach of our work exchange and live-in agreement that left me with less than 24 hours to move after I sustained a fall and concussion under her roof. Too many bore witness to this incident and all that led up to her abrupt termination of the agreement: her two daughters, the EMTs, several of my friends, a cousin, David and Darline included as additional hostile witnesses.

(Had I known what I know now, I would have stood my ground and she would have had a fun time calling the police to try to kick out a woman in postpartum who had sick leave written into their agreement–a little food for thought for anyone before their knees buckle when someone abuses their power in a housing arrangement, landlords/roommates/whomever)

Russell M Radziak, Family Law Lawyer Attorney Ellicott City Columbia, Maryland

Russell M Radziak, Ehren’s family law liar and salesman

Robert J Goldman Criminal Defense Lawyer Attorney DMV Prince George's County, Maryland

Robert J. Goldman, David’s defense liar and salesman

Harry B Siegel Family Law Firm, Attorney Lawyer Ellicott City Howard County Columbia, Maryland

Harry B. Siegel runs a family “law” firm that hires lawyers who do things like search statutes during trials to desperately justify their criminal attempts of dividing families…yes, I’m talking about Russell.

Congratulations to Harry for the honorable mention just for hiring hacks like that.

Wayne A Robey, Clerk of the Circuit Court Howard County, Maryland

Wayne A. Robey, the Circuit Court Clerk of Howard County

Judge Lenore R. Gelfman, Howard County Circuit Court, Maryland

Lenore R. Gelfman, a judge at the Howard County Circuit Court

Ehren Freyer with his son he kidnapped along with the Marsh family

Trina Torkildsen is Ehren’s mother who cooks the books up at UMBC.

Darline M. Marsh, travel agent, and Jӧrg Freyer, Owner of Paramark Corp, holding my kidnapped son

Jӧrg Freyer is Ehren’s father and he, like many of the others afore seen, runs a business called Paramark.

Who else was involved?

  • Harriette Dodson, of Linda’s Piano Studio in Mitchellville, MD, David’s mother and in the second to last image above — also a hostile, antagonistic witness along with Sally and Linda
  • Stephanie P. Porter, a magistrate who had a fiscal interest in benefiting from the unlawful proceeding
  • Leslie Knox, a cousin and a hostile, antagonistic witness
  • Cynthia Pree, a former friend of Cheryl who denied me help after witnessing the crimes in the white house and in my life, instead decided to condemn me for ‘losing my son’ how Cheryl had lost Sally and I rather than condemning the criminals for their theft

Who else will be added to this list? There’s plenty of room for a supporting cast and extras.

Nevertheless, I will gladly come back and update it to remove names. Hell, or add them.

I’ll do this much: take names down and help remove the images from search results for each individual who comes forward and does something in direct reciprocation with fixing their wrongdoings.

In case there’s any confusion about what I require for this wrong to be fixed…

All I want is my son and that’s all I ever wanted. This is the only one I care about.

He is mine and I am his. We deserve each other. I love him.

I don’t expect criminals to understand the consistent, daily, messy exercise of a struggling new mother’s love, but I do expect some people to understand what it is, people who care about truth even if it means the care to suppress it.

The longer this crime persists, however, the longer this list could grow and it will remain, and the more exposure it will get and the more it will come up in search results. It’s a free internet. You’re up against, I don’t know, billions of people, a growing percentage of which are not buying the scam of the corrupt family court system in addition to…how many other corrupt systems?

I’ll wait while you count…

Whether or not they (or you) disagree or are offended (in the high chance that someone on the above list also sees), I could care less, just like I care less that I have misspelled Russell’s last name as ‘Rodzinak’ once upon a time, or that his elitist parents had to bequeath such a complicated, anglo-ass last name upon his scholastic head.

I’ll save Russell the time of running and looking up anymore statutes, or even case law or code or regulations or whatever this that and the third. I can always correct that later and he’s certainly not off any hook even though his attorney appearance was terminated. Mistakes happen.

(Don’t mistake that my mistake will undo your mistake, Russell. Nope, don’t make that mistake on top of another one.)

See above if there’s any confusion about the one truly care about.

I feel that, in this somewhat unique situation, it would be honorable to remove those names from this post as each one of them makes amends for the harm they have either directly or indirectly caused me since May 28th, 2016.

An apology will not be enough. See above if there’s any confusion about the one truly care about.

I do understand how limited the scope of mind is within statists; and plenty, if not all, of the above named people fit that description. They worship government. It’s their religion, although it’s most certainly not mine (a little thing called freedom of religion, thanks). They get major perks from their private handshakes and buddy systems.

I’m also aware that some might not have meant me any harm, they genuinely might not have meant to commit these crimes and not do anything to correct them. Some of them were just “doing their job.” I get it, but ignorance is no excuse of the Law.

They have careers and other people and matters they care about that I don’t particularly care to get involved with or undermine, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to call them out and everything they’re about after they harmed the only one I care about.

I only seek to expose that they did wrong and I seek to find a goddamn remedy.

There comes a time when people have to stop seeking a cure-all on parental alienation support groups and through a never ending stream of on or offline searches. Don’t misunderstand me: knowledge empowers and it plays a crucial role as it has for me. Knowledge is only the first few steps in the journey, though.

I surpassed that mark. I’m done relapsing and living in pain because of misconstrued, harmless actions I took and punishments I don’t deserve.

Now, get to work, people. Fix this.

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