I’d owed on my Visa from the work, running the business costs up on that. I’d put the months of work into the Visa. I had taken a $50,000 loan under my name. I knew my ex had 10’s of millions of dollars at this time. She also had had the grow op. I was getting roughly $1000 a month and couldn’t work.
When we’d been in the Sea of Cortez the last months we’d sailed from island to island and up the inner arm of the Baja. It really had been idyllic. This one day Rays had begun jumping around us , flying. The dog and I were both spooked. Like the time the phosphorescent dolphin had joined the boat when I’d been night sailing. My go to thought is ‘alien’ and ‘being eaten’ but once I realized what I was witnessing, the shift occured and I appreciated the incredible beauty of nature. I was fascinated by these mental shifts. The beauty of nature and beauty in general could only be appreciated without fear.
I’d dive over the side of the boat at dawn with my mask and snorkels and spear gun. It was glorious underwater. The many coloured fish, tropical fish, huge, like being a Lilliputian diver in a fish tank. I’d begun breeding and keeping tropical fish in my early teens. I always had a tank. Now here I was swimming among them. The parrot fish and cabrilla, the red snappers and angelfish. We’d caught tuna and jack on hook trolling with the down rigger but here I’d swim for an hour before spotting the fish I wanted that morning. I’d free dive deep and spear it with my gun then dragging it behind me swim back to the boat as quickly as I could. Always, once I was trailing blood, I was convinced the shark were coming. One guy had his hip bit off carrying his fish by his side. Yet this was all fear. Shark were never a problem in Sea of Cortez outside of my mind when I was trailing a bleeding fish. Back in the boat I’d have the day’s meal.
She was beautiful on the boat, tanned and lithe, a regular goddess. She’d lie on the deck and read. I’d bring her coffee make her breakfast. My princess, my queen. Shinto loved her these glorious summer days . We’d row ashore and explore the islands. The beaches were a joy. Such incredible days in paradise.
I got a lawyer who quickly went through $10,000. Then another went though another $20,000. The fellow was a little sleaze ball. By contrast the older woman, who’d been in politics, was motherly and kind. “I’ve taken $10,000 but I’m not taking anymore of your money. Your ex is rich beyond your wildest dreams. She knows you have no money because I presume she moved all the money into her accounts those times she flew back to Canada. She’s not a nice lady. Her and her lawyer’s plan is to stonewall you. Take everything simply by not responding. She hasn’t answered my letters. Her lawyers says she won’t meet. Even her lawyer by the sounds of it doesn’t like the way she’s behaving.”
Her go to behaviour was anger and siege. When she was on drugs she’d be in her bed for days. Her mother would do the same reading her stories of the Queen. My wife read women’s magazines, all those the ‘hate men’ literature that the women soak up. So I ran up my credit cards to the max paying the lawyers. Had about $100,000 debt at the time with the lawyers fees and the business fees.
Now I was getting food from the farmer’s market surprised at how little it took to eat. The people in the church and AA were inviting me to dinner and I was being well fed surprisingly, mostly on charity. My friend would take me out for burgers. I thought he’d eaten a couple of moose at my table and I’d supported him financially and physically with the largesse of my life for a decade or more so didn’t feel he was ‘owed’. He was incredibly ‘cheap’ and tight and up generous. Which I suppose was good.
“When you asked if you could stay, I thought I needed a tenant in my trailer so that’s why I offered to help”
‘When I’d rescued the two fellows at sea, his first thought after we got them on board was ‘I wonder how much they’d sell their dinghy for. It’s pretty good and they won’t be needing it. I bet I could get a deal.” I told him. “No way.” My wife was having them sip water, they’d been at sea 24 or 48 hours without water, we were concerned for their physical well being. He was thinking this was a good time for himself to profit. And later I’d realize that I’d perhaps been wrong as the guys would sell their dinghy after we dropped them off in port to get money to get a bus to the main town.
It was interesting watching him always looking for an angle to profit. Never considering outright what he could do for others. Then quite surprisingly he’d help people. I very troubled unusual man in his own way he was one of the most generous I’d ever meet. Not day to day. My brother, another Christian of this sort, was ever vigilant against waste and always looking for profit. Yet if you were in need, my brother was the most generous and helpful man I knew. So was my friend. I’d watch him spend a day fixing a native woman’s car so she could get to an AA meeting. He’d always be up for coming along with me on some adventure. I’d pay for everything but his company in those early years was always pricelesss. Together we’d talk of God and history and Jesus.
I’d studied the Bible at University. I’d taught Sunday School. I’d never stopped reading it or referring to it. I’d tried to get my wife to go but she’d not wanted to, said her family were nominally Anglican. My friend was Anglican. I remember being at sea and studying the Saint days in Mexico where Catholicism was strong and thinking I wish I was in a church rich in history. I’d gone to church in the Baptist tradition and had a minister who harangued the congregation. I remember my father saying, “I’d don’t like listening to a man calling people down when he can’t even fix his own roof.’ Dad didn’t think a lot about talkers. Felt that talk had to be inspired by action and preferred the Anglican minister next door who’d he’d help with projects like the memorable ‘door’. Dad had a Catholic priest friend who they worked together in his garden and fixed his roof together with. He liked men who were competent. The minister was a favourite with the women. All his flowery talk and Bible quotations and exhortations against mostly the men. It was a lot of talk.
Yet I missed the ritual and framework and the calendar. I missed the year broken up into a Christian journey. I had encountered this in Mexico. We’d been studying spanaish weekly with a delightful gay man who told us also about the customs of Mexico. We discussed many things with him. He’d been an American rancher in New Mexico before moving to La Paz where he had several young boy friends and taught spanish to Gringos like our self.
Father John had been the pastor in the military. Chilliwack was a Canadian military base. I began attending a noon hour AA meeting with Dr. Bernie and this amazing soldier. He was built like Schwartzeneggeer and had the broadest shoulders I could remember. I’d share in a meeting, back then mostly self pity. When I’d finish I’d talk to him after. Ask what he thought. Over and over again he told me.
“Get your head in the same room as your ass!” Sergeant voice.
His other favourite saying to me was ‘You’ve got one foot in the future and one foot in the past and you’re shitting and pissing on your day. Get your head in the same room as your ass.”
I’d studied zen and Christian mysticism and been a yogi but the marijuana and alcohol had taken that finely tuned mind and turned it into flab. The mind is a muscle. Mine simply was not working. Broken. I was feeling it come on line. It’s a rebirth process. Doing all the same old things but without alcohol or drugs on board. I’d later think of it as chemical brain damage. My gay researcher neuroscientist friend would demonstrated on fMRI that the forebrain brain literally was shut off for 3 months after stopping drugs. The old guys in AA had said ‘90 meetings in 90 days’ , not 80 and not 120 , but 90 because they’d seen what years later the MRI saw, the judgement part of the brain was just broken.
My friend had a simple inexpensive routine. He was a funny guy who’d worked and saved and had family mooney but really didn’t like to work. He was mostly all the years I knew him in a state of retirement bliss complaining about how rough his life was. He was like so many depressives too self centred and not having the distraction of work and family that others had. He lived the life of O’Reilly and complained incessantly about feeling poorly. But happiness comes ironically from helping others. I’d get joy making my ex breakfast most days. I loved serving my patients. I was happiest when I was ‘useful’ for the group,. He was however like a group of loner men I’d meet in Slesse Park always thing ‘what’s in it for me’. Everyone of them had a marvellous hard luck story about some woman who did them wrong and stole all their stuff.
Canada internationally is known as the country where ‘women are the greatest house keepers because they always keep the house’. So the courts transferred all the wealth of men to women taking a third to a half for themselves. The guys had been the ones to build the houses work 12 hour days and now all the women heard was the one sided lies of feminism and never the stories I’d hear as I went through another divorce . In my last one I’d got out with the car and left the lion’s share of wealth we’d acquired mostly through my working several jobs, now in this marriage I’d done the lion’s share of work and all of my money and assets had gone into the marriage. I found out one female judge in Canada found 350 cases consecutively against the men. There were enquires going on into the court corruption and the killings made by divorce lawyers and ruin of men. Men were collectively not working. I’ve met hundreds who were punished for marriage and building family and home so stopped showing money and lived on the underground economy cheap like hillbillies. If they worked they’d be punished.
A McGill study showed that once taxation passes 50% there is more incentive for people to work in the black market and the state begins to lose money because no one wants to work for free.
Children estranged from their father’s became the ‘mother’s little helper’ and a lot of ‘emotional incest occured’ with ‘imitation as the sincerest form of flattery’ and little boys and little girls imitating their mothers. Not so bad for the mothers increasingly creating several generations of welfare and drug addiction families supported by child services and the industry of expensive ‘state child care’. The neighbourhood was full of rich people raising other peoples children. When word got out I was a psychiatrist I was routinely approached for ‘redesignation’ of ‘normal kids’ as ‘difficult kids’ because the higher the level of designation the more each ‘foster’ kid brought into the system. Great rackets were going on all around me. Out of the office I was impressed with peoples ingenuity.
I had never had time off and these guys were all driving trucks living in houses and mostly going fishing. None showed any income to speak of. All the trades were an underground economy. Billions of dollars worth of dope was being grown everywhere. Carpenters were trading carpentry for mechanics. Houses were being built without a dollar being spent. I got in on the work parties which came with cases of beer. There was a whole barter economy that had risen because the guys were taxed out of work and ‘alimony’ and ‘child care’ ruined them after they’d lost their houses and boats and they had worked for to the ‘enemy and her new drug dealer boyfriend.’ Prostitution was rampant too.
I was naive.
I got bags of carrots and ate these whenever I had a craving for a cigarette. The guys were concerned about my carrot addiction. I had made a couple of friend with my friend and we’d have these great coffee clutch experiences then we’d pull on wrenches for a bit and find a burger. My friend knew every ‘deal’ in town and had coupons for everything. He lived not to spend money. He’d had a violent doctor girlfriend who had routinely got drunk and when drunk smashed him in the head when he was asleep or coming through the door. She demanded money all the time and loved spending it on clothing and shoes. She was from Europe. We’d met her once. A very pretty smart girl but nasty as could be. I saw all the scars and all the damage she’d done when she had rages. Women do a lot of property damage when they’re angry. If you don’t make something you sure can have fun breaking it. My ex was violent too.
I’ve never hit a woman. Never. Way my father raised me. Same with my Anglican friend. We’d never hit women. But we’d sure been hit by them and they’d sure tried to kill us and themselves on occasion. He really did have a lot of scars. We’d sit with the other guys in the MacDonalds , a dozen guys and every guy would show a scar that a woman gave him. Knife attacks were common.
Interesting because to hear CBC it was a one way street. Now I’d the benefit of the literature and common sense and knew that domestic violence was a two way street. Apparently those with sisters were even more aware of it. But CBC and the government had an invested interests in taking the female side and getting a third of the male assets and playing the ‘social communist card ‘ or the ‘cultural Marxism’ card.
I’d sat in my office hearing one side of the story. Now I was in the cafe’s with guys hearing one side of the story. And because of the true lunacy of society and the courts half the men in a 50% divorce world had been the principal money earners for the country were now finding every way possible not to make money and doing everything under the table so ex’s and lawyers wouldn’t be rewarded more.
The system was clearly fucked. I was moping in self pity until one day I saw that my sailboat the Giri was up for sale. I’d bought a sailing magazine on a bus trip i was taking to the city. There was the Giri. I remember thinking that was ‘just wrong’. It was my boat. I’d done all the work on it with friends. She didn’t want it. She had millions. My boat was worth only $50,000 in real value at the time though I’d put a couple of hundred thousand into it by then. The things was it was in the States. She’d broken the law bringing it back to Canada. She’d also risked losing it because the Mexican smelling a rat could have just as easily stolen it knowing we were breaking up.
So I went from I’m all to blame for this marriage breaking up. I should have been a saint. I’d done my step 4 and saw everything as my part, I flipped from all bad to not so bad and got a lawyer. My Christian friends introduced me to this truly amazing loving kind and compassionate woman who was also a lawyer.
The whole year was getting back the boat. When I’d wonder about the process I’d go to the greatest richest divorce queen’s counsel in the city and ask for a second opinion. He told me my lawyer was doing a great job and that she was doing everything reasonably but that my ex was ‘dirty’. He said that he could get me 10 million dollars and after the obvious abuse I’d taken and the dirty game she’d played the court would gladly punish her for her evil. He’d take $5 million after the case. No money up front. No promise. He’d just take the case because he wanted to win and would, always did and didn’t like this injustice and frankly could use 5 million dollars which he’d have in a matter of months. I just want my boat I told him. Then let your lawyer finish what she’s doing. Did you tell her that. Yes. She’s doing what you want. But if you want $5 or even $10 million dollars call me. Your wife is a bitch and she shouldn’t be allowed to do this to a good man. You’re a good man aren’t you. Never hit. Never stole. Didn’t sleep around. No. So what right does she have to take all the marital assets and put you out on the street. That’s cruel and unusual punishment. I looked into you too, you know. You’re a great reputation for good. A man of integrity. Done some very personally dangerous things. Heard about your standing up for good things. Nothing on her record like that. Believe it or not the courts respect people like you. You’re poor and have troubles like this but judges admire you and know that the world needs you. Your wife is just spiteful. Spiteful people are common. You on the other hand are something else. The whole divorce law will have to change. Too many good men like you are ‘dropping out’ . Taxes alone are making honest work bad. I don’t know if I could get rich today like I did yesterday. I don’t think half the country is paying taxes anymore, reason the government expects me to pay three times as much as I should. Your lawyers a good woman doing a good job. Don’t worry. This will all be past soon and you can get back to doing medicine which you obviously do so well.
At that time millions of engineers architectures doctors mechanics, the very back bone of society was in the divorce courts. 50% divorce. I’d meet a hundred men in AA or in coffee shops all totally damaged by the ‘system’ of ‘divorce’ and all the guys like my friend who had only had a girlfriend who beat him doing better than the guys who played the game like it was supposed to me.
The worst thing about the courts was that the guys couldn’t see their children and the women turned the children against the men. Worse the courts made the men pay the women child support and held the women to no account. Half the men I met had wife’s who were coke addicts and had abused them and the kids but the courts took the woman’s side and now the man was paying for the wives coke habits while the kids were raised by foster care and family. It was a typical government fowl up. But what a waste of Human Resources to make a few lawyers and bureaurcrats rich. I loved one day reading a National Post Article sayng that the children of divorce needed to the State and the Courts for the millions of dollars they stole from them by making their parents fight each other. Divorce goes back thousands of years but this nightmare is a recent invention.
My lawyer would eventually get my boat back.
In the US 20 years ago the’d brought in arbitration because of the destruction to society of the divorce. Lovers warring. I just wanted to get on with my life. My boat was my home.
I’d bicycle 22 miles into Chilliwack to see Willi and talk about what I was going to do. I’d lost total faith in UBC psychiatry. What I’d originally admired in Manitoba was missing here. I’d begun to consider that maybe drugs and alcohol were more an issue than I thought especially as I was sober and clean and thinking clearly for the first time in years. It’s a different kind of thinking. There’s no ‘wisdom’ in the drinking and drugging ‘state’ I’d been clever but not wise. Now I was getting back in touch with my heart and soul. I felt feelings awakening.
I was going over my life with Willi. I’d felt badly since I was sodomized in university. I took my infidelity and the sodomy as the point at which my life went side ways. I also thought that my marriage went south when I was working as a country doctor. I’d seen that my sister in law and her husband had a strong marriage simply because he got her away from the mother and his family was so strong. They were in the church too. I’d had no hope fighting the black hole of the mother’s insaniety. I was a drift.
My own homosexuality was a major issue. I was bisexual but at the time the homosexuals were arguing that anyone who’d crossed the line couldn’t go back but that’s a lie. I’d seen people go each way in practice. Politics is such a lie. It was okay to ‘recruit’ gay people and ‘transexual’ but now against the law to ‘recruit heterosexuals’. The law is an ass.
I’d always liked girls. My professor was obviously more gay than heterosexual in orientation but he’d fathered a couple of children. I”d see this, men and women having a couple of children then going to their preferred sex. Reproduction was a separate issue from sexual attraction.
I know I’d left my job and Winnnipeg mostly because I didn’t want to be his bum boy at the university. It was so sordid. I didn’t have ‘feelings’ for him and yet I had tremendous ‘feeling’ for my wife’s. I liked the ‘lust’ of sex and the guys ‘lusted’. He ‘lusted’. I’d had great sex with my wife’s ‘early’ but then they got married and sex went from hot chilli to macaroni. Sex had always stayed hot with my first wife but the female doctors just turned the sex off. In the end neither wanted sex for months at a time. Always tired.
It was a difficult time. I wasn’t working. I knew this magnificent Christian man who was a surgeon. I approached him for surgical repair of my anus. It had been harmed in that original six. A tear that had for 10 years kept opening up. Pain and pus and blood.
Now i had it repaired. I walked down the street dripping blood out my anus and was in such immense pain. I couldn’t sit and left blood on the chair with tears as the lovely Christian waitress with the saddest eyes gave me towels to wipe the blood off the seat. I was crying .
He’d made me a girl. I’d been his bitch. That’s what psychiatry was about.
“There’s nothing homosexual in Judaism. There’s no homosexual cult that one has to be apart of to be a psychiatrist. Ray Baker and Willi Gutowski assured me that Medicine wasn’t like that. Willi introduced me to Dr. Satinover the anti orthodox gay Jungian pscyhiatristist. I’d later be assured by a Safed Rabbi that Moses wasn’t gay and that one didn’t need to be gay to be spiritual in the Jewish religion. I’d spend a week with the Anglican Jewish priest in Jerusalem discussing Jewish sexuality and spirituality and be assured that the two were not linked. ‘you can be a homosexual and a Jew like you can be anything and a Jew. They’re not ‘linked’. This man ‘linked’ them for you. That was wrong.’
Yoganda and Carl Ridd had not linked sexuality and spirituality. It took Willi telling me that spirituality can be achieved by an individual, that the monk was as spiritual. Sex was separate. Dr Gutowski and Dr. Baker and Dr. Graham all recommended I report the sexual transgression. It had caused me such confusion. Certainly I drank because of it. But then I drank for any reason. I didn’t blame the professor for the ‘act’ but the clear lie that I wanted him to teach me about Jewish spirituality and he sodomized me instead. I’d even be thinking that my mentor Dr. Sam was just waiting to rape me for years. I thought all jews were sodomites. Willi said no. I’d also thought that psychiatrists had to go through this sexual ritual and again Willi said no. I’d not discussed any of this with my other psychiatrists friends just because I thought they were more sophisticated, had gone through their inauguration and then got on with marriage and kids and I’d have done that if I’d had marriage and kids but instead I’d been alone wondering should I be gay now. Now I was a woman.
Now I’d had my anus repaired. That ugly tear was gone.
I was in exquisite pain. But I wasn’t taking any pain killers. I was not using narcotics. I was not smoking a joint. I was not having a drink. I was crying in the worst burning searing pain I’d ever known in my life and I was going to show every one I could take it. I didn’t need drugs or alcohol.
Fuck you all. Fuck the fucking university who let men like this rape students. Fuck homosexuals. Fuck heterosexuals. Fuck institutions. Fuck lawyers. Fuck everyone. I was in such pain. I wasnt going to kill myself but there was no relief. I couldn’t lie down or sit down and I certainly couldn’t get any help from doctors. I’d stopped trusting doctors and hospitals and emergencies since my residency. The last place I’d go was a hospital if I could avoid it. I’d done my time in the psychiatry wards and emergency and in the asylum but i’d see too much shit, too much death, and too much diseases and the College of Physicians and Surgeons was deeply evil. Fucking evil. They’d protected the head of psychiatry killing people ,protected one evil person after another and now were somewhere out there celebrating my ex. They’d given her my practice. She had all my diplomas and records aand journals and wasn’t giving them back. They were the doctor police. They’d not helped with her addiction but they thought I was the problem.
I’d show them.
I phoned Dr. Graham and told him I was in the worst pain I ever knew but I’d never take relief from him or any doctor or any pill or any drug. Fuck you.
I just wanted to get away from the world . I wanted to leave this stinking profession. I had my butt repaired thankfully and I was whole again and then I was going out in the woods and never having anything to do with people. Fuck you all. Fuck you. Fuck you.
I trusted teh surgeon. I trusted Willi. I trusted Ray because he’d told me he’d been down himself. I trusted Bernie. But people wanted me to take pain killers and I wasn’t going to do that. Never again was I going to take anything to alter my consciousness. I had shut that door.
The next day I was told that if I didn’t come to the hospital the police would pick me up. I was admitted to St. Paul’s hospital. I couldn’t shit. I had no medical attention the whole time I was on the psychiatric ward despite being a day post surgery. I have never known worse medical care in a hospital. It was as bad as the ward where the man had lice. The doctors didn’t know medicine. i was given industrial doses of antipsychotics enough to kill me. I was told by my nurse who was divorced from a doctor that Christianity was the worst. Thing. She wanted to give me an injection in my butt and I insisted that I get it orally but she got the orderly and held me down and shoved the needle in my butt. They gave me a roommate who was gay and talked to me about being gay. I had my bible and read it. When the doctor said I could be discharged I got dressed to go. He’d not told the nurse. I was thrown in a quiet room. They’d been a miscommunication. I was going to go insane.
The nurses had me clean the floors on my knees and stood around saying. “Look at the doctor cleaning the floor.It’s about time one of these male doctors got a little taste of reality’. I was crying remembering cleaning the blood off the floors with the nurses. These psychiatric nurses were ignorant and cruel. I had the most incredibly bad women who had such hatred for their husbands and men. I don’t remember one kind psychiatric nurse on that unit. They were belittling all the patients. Utterly ‘one flew over the cuckoo nest’ types. Nurse Ratchetts. Thankfully the priest and chaplain were so kind. I loved to talk with them and they understood how I felt I’d turned from God and chosen drugs.
The head said. “Just take the medication. I think you’re schizophrenic. I just want you to stop talking about the homosexual professor. You can’t go to AA. Your Christian psychiatrist has ruined you by not giving you antipsychotics. Just stay away from AA and don’t talk about the homosexual attack and we can have you out of here in a month or two and back to drinking too.”
“I dont’ want to drink.”
“You never had a drinking problem. You didn’t drink more than a bottle of wine a day. It’s okay to smoke dope. You just need to take this medication and stop talking about your professor. Everything will be normal.”
“I want to see a lawyer.
“Do you think the medical profession is going to let a lawyer take a psychiatrist off a psychiatric ward. IF you don’t tear up that request right now I’m going to make sure you never get out of hospital. I’ll send you to Riverview Hospital and make sure you never get off a back room. Are you hearing me. You know what I mean. Cooperate and you get out of here. Call a lawyer and you’ll die in an asylum . “
I understood. I was alone.
My friend came and said that my ex was still trying to kill me. This whole charade was her doing he said. Was using all her influence to see me dead. I told him about her mother and the father. He said ‘well she’d trying to do that to her. Best thing for her is you’’re dead. Hang in there.”
Willi visitted.
Otherwise I was alone.
My dog wasn’t there. I worried about my dog.
My ass was in utter pain. I couldn’t shit. I couldn’t sit or walk without pain and the medication s were so ridiculously strong I was frozen stiff with eps and no one checked and no one gave me benztropie nad i was in screaming pain and I read JOB.
My doctor was Jewish. Of course I know your professor.
There were the same age.
“I don’t doubt he is gay to and i dont doubt he sodomized you. But that’s got nothing to do with anything. You’re here and getting meds because you’re crazy to talk about it. I’ve spoken to your wife and she says you’re crazy”.
She’s on drugs.
She says that s your delusion. she’s never done drugs. Insists you’re paranoid and that she’s never done cocaine or marijuana but that you had this delusions.
The doctors that you drank with. I talked to one of them. He says you never drank more than him and he’s never had more than a couple of beer. Nice Irish guy. This AA and this Christian psychiatrist have deluded you.
You were a good doctor bill . I dont know what happened to you sailing but you insane and you need to take the medication to get back to being a doctor you were. forget about the professor.
He was Jewish. He was a psychiatrist.
My own Jewish psychiatrist said “you never talked about being sodomized ‘
I talked to my friends when I got out and they told me that’s all I talkd about and that I’d told them I was talking about it to my psychiatrist and that it was strange that they would say would they did
I’d learn about gaslighting years later.
Don’t criticize the group, Don’t go against city hall. Don’t take a knife to a gun fight. I’d actually done that. Pulled a knife on a guy and chased him a way when he pulled a gun on me. I called his bluff and am alive today to say I took a gun to a knife fight.
Something changed. I got my bible back. I got permission to go to AA again. The nurses stopped humiliating me. The gay room mate and I talked seriously as friends. No more of the gay come on shit. Just two guys in jail. I was eventually let go.
I kept going to AA. I went round to the psychiatrist who only drank a couple of beer. I gave him a Big Book of Alcoholic’s anonymous. I’d seen him finished a bottle of bushmills on his own. I’d hardly ever known him sober. His wife took care of him. He was a good guy but a drunk. Nothing wrong with it. But he was a liar.
My psychiatrist tried to apologize to me. I said it’s okay. I know . You need the group,. You don’t rat on your own. He was Jewish, secular. I stopped trusting secular Jews for a while there. I never lost my love for the godly and even had more orthodox mentors.
I tried to enter a monastery but the head of the monastery said that ‘you’re attracted to me because you see spirituality ‘ but I want you to know that I didnt’t get my spirituality in the monastery but in AA ‘I”m 30 years clean and sober.”
I continued AA.
Ray Baker recommended I go to Homewood.
The college assistant registrar had told me I’d hurt my patients and done terrible medicine. I believed him . I believe I was ‘psychotic’ and that I’d done all these terrible things so I should die. I have the means and was planning to kill myself after Christmas. Ray recommended Homewood. I thought I’ll go there before I die.
Graham Cunningham met me and said ‘Some people run with the cheetahs some run with the turkeys, you’ve been running with the turkeys..’
The psychiatrists met me and reviewed my history. Intensive extensive investigation and finally stopped all the medication. “There was no evidence whatsoever for you being schizophrenic or psychotic. Even if you were there was no reason for this medication. This is terrible psychiatric and medical care. You were post surgery and never saw a doctor or a surgeon. You didn’t get benztorpien or cogentin. This is all wrong. No wonder you were paranoid. Any psychiatrist subjected to this would be out of his ever loving gourd.’
You certainly were smoking a lot of marijuana and drinking a lot and going through a separation and your wife was so outrageous she should have lost her medical license for her cruelty.
Welfare kicks you out, you’re asking the church for charity, it’s a nightmare. Your biker friends take all your stuff .
You’ve got PTSD and you’re an alcoholic. It’s pretty simple . Keep going to AA. Follow the program. Your Christian psychiatrist seemed not he right track . Your professor shouldn’t have sodomized you. There’s no sex in Jewish spirituality. It’sthere or not there but this wasn’t about that it was about abuse of power. I don’t think you’re homosexual. I think you’re a man in divorce who never had kids. I’d sugggest you go to Sex and Love Addcicts anonymous to see if it fits but frankly I think alcohol and drugs divorce and ptsd explains it all. I don’t think you did anything wrong as a doctor either. The college would have been all over you if you did but there’s nothing from them. you should look into that when you get back. You’re going to be okay. I’ m sorry you got the worst care I’ve actually heard in years but it’s not surprising given how paranoid you’ve been since you were molested. And the drugs certainly didn’t make it better. They’ve confused it for everyone. The great chameleon. Drugs and alcohol present ad everything. You can’t really know what it is until a person is off them at least 3 months .You’ve been off them now for 6. I pretty sure we all here are right about your diagnosis. I hope you’ll stay in the profession. you have a reputation as a very fine doctor and psychiatrist so I hope you will continue but I could understand you leaving us aft3er what’s been done to you.
I haven’t drunk or done drugs in 22 years. Tomorrow I take another cake. I joke and call coffee the blood of Bill Wilson and cake the body of dr. Bob. But it’s all anonymous. I only talk about it really when the aetheists and profiteers say it doesn’t work and want to sell a different brand. Frankly I don’t care what shoes you’re wearing. I”m still walking and above ground. It was all up from there.
I decided not to kill myself when I met Graeme.
I spent 2 years going over all my records and found that I’d not done anything that was wrong as a doctor. I might have been a little abrupt or insensitive but I’d hurt no patient and made no medical or psychiatric error. The Assistant College Registrar who told me that I had is in some personal hell wehere lying burocrats get staked daily up their ass.
My professor has some good Jewish friends. I dont know if the Jews should operate like the Hells Angels but after the persecution they got for being good kind people with a few quirks they have ever reason to do this. My Jewish friends all backed away from me for a year after I reported the sexual abuse. It was just something that wasn’t my issue. It was an illegal activity that was thoughtless and did harm. He was on drugs and a bit of a psychopath but not a bad guy. He was never on his worst day as bad as the college police. They punished me and other doctors for reporting crime. They lie and ethically are beyond the pale. But then Ive not been in their shoes. It’s easy to critique hard to create.
I’m alive. I’ve sailed solo across an ocean in the boat that my lawyer STephanie got back for me. I paid off all the debts. I lived cheap and worked 6 aye a week year in and year out. I’ve been blessed beyond my just deserts. I’ve known grace.
I’m muddling on. Thank you God.
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