A new boyfriend became suspicious of my store manager, and we discovered discrepancies in the receipts. Piles of overdue bills, illegal prescription forms, counterfeit concert tickets, and unpaid taxes were stuffed in the files. The next day I covertly recorded a conversation with the CPA I'd hired to be sure all those taxes and bills were paid. I took the tape to my attorney because it was apparent the manager and the CPA had collaborated and embezzled me. My attorney advised me to file charges with the DA immediately. Unwilling to send someone else to prison, I went back to the store and confronted the manager. He walked out.
A few minutes later, my boyfriend arrived. To my surprise, he insisted I pay him for helping me out. He threatened to rip up the art work I'd drawn if I didn't give him an outrageous sum of money. Overcome with supernatural strength and out of control, I attacked and beat him up. It took two men to pull me off him though I weighed only about 120 pounds. He left the store screaming that he would put a curse on me and proclaimed I would never be happy again. I knew he had been raised in the occult and taught about such things from a powerful witch. I dissolved into hysterical sobs, and one of my employees drove me to my apartment in Malibu.
Within the hour I felt the curse wrapping itself around me like a musty cocoon. Confused and totally bewildered, I couldn't figure out how to perform the simple task of removing polish from my fingernails.
My friend Mickey was called, and he took me to the hospital. Mickey had been my boss when I had worked for a Hollywood talent agency. I was admitted to the mental ward at Mt. Sinai. This was the second time Mickey had taken me to a mental ward.
When two psychiatrists interviewed me, I spoke in a male voice with a Spanish accent. I actually felt the voice coming out of the left side of my mouth. I noticed that they wrote nothing on my chart. I was heavily medicated and put to bed.
A few days later, I realized I must get out of there and check on my business. With my previous nervous breakdown, I had been forced to stay in the hospital and couldn't get released even with my lawyer's intervention. This time I manipulated the system. While the psychiatrists who had admitted me were off duty, I spoke to another doctor, claiming I was simply exhausted and upset because of business pressures. I insisted I must leave immediately, or things would deteriorate even further. Telling the doctor what he wanted to hear, I was released.
A few minutes later, my boyfriend arrived. To my surprise, he insisted I pay him for helping me out. He threatened to rip up the art work I'd drawn if I didn't give him an outrageous sum of money. Overcome with supernatural strength and out of control, I attacked and beat him up. It took two men to pull me off him though I weighed only about 120 pounds. He left the store screaming that he would put a curse on me and proclaimed I would never be happy again. I knew he had been raised in the occult and taught about such things from a powerful witch. I dissolved into hysterical sobs, and one of my employees drove me to my apartment in Malibu.
Within the hour I felt the curse wrapping itself around me like a musty cocoon. Confused and totally bewildered, I couldn't figure out how to perform the simple task of removing polish from my fingernails.
My friend Mickey was called, and he took me to the hospital. Mickey had been my boss when I had worked for a Hollywood talent agency. I was admitted to the mental ward at Mt. Sinai. This was the second time Mickey had taken me to a mental ward.
When two psychiatrists interviewed me, I spoke in a male voice with a Spanish accent. I actually felt the voice coming out of the left side of my mouth. I noticed that they wrote nothing on my chart. I was heavily medicated and put to bed.
A few days later, I realized I must get out of there and check on my business. With my previous nervous breakdown, I had been forced to stay in the hospital and couldn't get released even with my lawyer's intervention. This time I manipulated the system. While the psychiatrists who had admitted me were off duty, I spoke to another doctor, claiming I was simply exhausted and upset because of business pressures. I insisted I must leave immediately, or things would deteriorate even further. Telling the doctor what he wanted to hear, I was released.
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