When involved in recovery, we are encouraged to be open and honest about the causes and conditions of our drinking. Unfortunately, the natural result of that tactic is to be open about the things we resent, and chief among them was owning my shame. Doing so did not always resolve the problem though it is necessary to me. More effective for others was identifying what they believed to be the problem. Please see: Confessions
Because we were traumatized by events leading to the separation of my parents, and because I was disoriented by travel and moving we did when I was young, I was suspicious of my Step-Father, and angry at my Mother for disrespecting my loyalty to my own Father. I did not want to be a ring bearer in their wedding, I would not call him Dad, and though I realize now that I too was part of the problem I did not like the new household. We were expected to babysit, do household chores, and work on our new home during the evenings after school, and the proud new Father was adapting by use of force.
Admittedly, I was rescued from a difficult situation in the Islands by my Mother, and a challenge from an old neighbor because I hit him with a baseball bat, but because I left, I never found out what happened to him. When he fell down, I went to his house and told his Mother, but we weren't taught to provide first aid at that age (I was no more than 7 or 8 at the time), and I didn't know how to use the phone for emergency services. I didn't check for life signs, or stay with him until help arrived (I couldn't stay with him while I left to get help), and I haven't been able to find out anything about his welfare since.
I remember feeling a little sheepish as I walked by his house. I was still welcomed by the girls in the neighborhood, some of whom were admonishing me to follow the Lord, but what I didn't realize then is that He may have had more to do with my behavior than I did!
See also: Self Examination
Though we don't always know what we've done, I was encouraged to find out just exactly what I have done wrong, to get to the bottom of my mistakes, and make amends. At that time, I believed confessing to my parents would work best. I didn't trust the alcoholics I knew, and I believe medical professionals we're unable to work with my material. I had to rely on the judgement and control of my parents frequently, and I still respect their ability to carry on.
While I was under the influence of medications (some of which my Step Father sold to Doctors I could only see once a season), testimony about questionable events such the colonic I was told to administer as a teenager may have been used to their advantage. I was unaware of what they were thinking when my children were taken, and all I had to work with was psychobabble. Now sober and making efforts to communicate with them again, I realize that because my Step Father referred to my brother's condition as Giant Colon (my family is descendent from a person the town referred to as 'The Giant' in Norway), and I was unaware of what was happening on medications, that I may have been characterized as an offender as a result of providing that treatment.
Sobriety afforded me the opportunity to write things down. I began by writing it up as a Federal Lawsuit suing for broken promises, and the courts deemed it frivolous. I sued for disturbing observations made of me while in restraints and was asked for clarification. I published clarifications on Facebook and Countless hours of documentation and evidence were removed. So I approached the problem by responding online, but because I was making a case without a Court, I had to identify myself, and the global approach resulted in a need to appeal to many others I hadn't considered before.
When we were confronted by the suspicion of authorities in our lives, I saw that the innocent activities I was involved in, like learning to use my chemistry set, my telescope, or my microscope, and using my camera to do photography for my research projects, may have been sabotaged by the purpose of their use. (I lost my camera while doing research papers on the pollution in our city as depicted by black smoke pouring out of my grade schools smokestack, and sewage running out into the river. And my microscope was stolen as I was identifying the bugs in our beds.)
The traditional belief that the victim of a crime will become an offender who does the same is based upon the fact that victims are silenced because the testimony is so damaging, a child would loose their parents if it were to be known. The pathology of this psychology is so bad, that when I referred to my frustrated effort to have sex with my Panda Bear after being offended by a lewd act, doubt about my testimony suggests that I was perceived to be using the teddy bear to represent the offender's child, and that my vengeance about his lewd behavior (behavior that at the age of 12 in 1970 we didn't understand) resulted in offending his son. God's power to create is not mocked, and contempt is not welcome in the Courts. His realm, the Holy See, and the power to create is Holy, and should not be treated lightly, or selfishly, nor be despised or loathed.
Some people perceive sobriety to be a journey back home, but for me, it necessarily became a trip to parts unknown. My grandfather was a preacher from North Minneapolis who was a Missionary in China, and my father flew a Cutlass off the USS Ticonderoga during the Korean Conflict. My parents worked in Germany during their reconstruction when we were young, and adding to these challenges, while I operated my father's carpet cleaning business, he wrote a cold war novel describing a conspiracy to defraud the Russian Oil Industry by disenfranchising them from their opportunities.
I had to face the fact that I need to make amends not only to those I hurt, but also to those who may have been hurt by positions held by members of my family.
I wasn't aware of all the suspicions I'd left behind, and when I returned after encountering a hate crime scene, it became clear that I had a major crisis on my hands. I approached the Courts in a state of shock, so I turned to the Internet because I was better trained to work online.
Hacks, duress, disruptions and obstructions to my effort to defend myself both online and in the community required patience and persistance to overcome. Assaults, hatred and bannishment ruled out a direct approach, and financial hardship prevented me from the use of the Courts.
Curious features of childhood during the 1960's such as:
Were used to justify crimes and warfare, so we had no right to refer to it as 'traumatic' by comparison. The reality of those who suffered with the consequences of circumstances like these was much worse.
We need to gently take an errant belief from despair, or a traumatic event, to a more manageable understanding of the problem. I engaged in the discovery of threats resulting from trauma depicted by scars, to teach the consequences of challenging a cultural practice. And in order to address a cultural condition, we need to pay special attention to the consequences of reform by refraining from judgmental thinking until our concerns are understood. Our only alternative in a volitatile circumstances like this is to let the negativity condemn itself, and to rely on God. We can get very attached to traditions, and traditional practices form structure for our disciplines and academics!
As we learn to disambiguate doubt and suspicion into specificity, the attributes, methods, and multiple instances of definition made possible by use of HTML and CSS will be able to teach what was once considered forbidden knowledge by use of computer modulated mediation, or haptic sensibilities rather than reactionary abuse of language. It does no good to ignore harmful content anymore than it does to ignore harmful code. It does help to educate users as to how a hyperlink might behave, and what to do about an ambiguous term, such as jump-suit.
Countless hours of detail written to defend myself from the suspicion of paranoiacs, and crimes of confusion were conveniently lost by Social Networks I once referred to in my footer. Recently, I've been forced to remain anonymous.
I haven't been able to resolve conflicts with my family in person, leaving messages when trying to reach old contacts is useless, and my email service has been compromised for many years. Swearing in for the Courts required me to rely upon what God has already done in scripture to deal with my complaints. So I approached this Higher Court boldly by backing it up with Bible Study. I've been working with desperate people for many years in my home town - some who use violence, duress, and even Network Interference to obstruct our efforts to resolve our differences, and despite my efforts to resolve conflicts, am still dealing with old drafts online, and hacks to the work I've done on my local machine.
My only experience with intentional killing was with guns and a knife, and all I can ever recall killing was a Sparrow, a Gardner snake, and a Bullhead (other than fish I caught to eat). The snake I shot with a Crossman BB gun in a pond across the road from our house in the Country, and the bird I shot with a 4-10 down the road in my neighbors yard. The bullhead I stabbed while swimming underwater with my knife. There wasn't much left of the bird after I shot him, but the snake may have survived for a while - he took a hit that took a sizable chunk out of his 'neck'. I didn't expect to hit the Bullhead, but was surprised when I did. The death of any creature is difficult for me to witness. I don't support it other than as a means of survival.
So when I encountered the work of a hate criminal, or sadist, I was shocked. I relate my findings at another location: Hate Crime Scene
I gave videotape evidence of the crime scene to the Police, and they now have no record of it. Because I was badgered by the officers who I gave the tape to, I suspected the motivation for the crime was based upon events here at home beyond the circumstances I traveled her to address, so I proceeded to cover everything I could, County by County with Law Enforcement all over the Metro Area, to the South, where I worked as a child, and to the East where I went to High School.
Tasks like spreading County Sewage in order to replenish the soil that we harvested as sod there seemed so problematic to me, that at times, I walked off the job. And yet, that is - in a manor of speaking - exactly what I did when I left home for another State.
Because what I shared about my experiences growing up in my household to Health Care Workers, Pastors, Scout Masters, Priests and the like as a child, was deemed untenable, as an adult while drinking exhibiting the behavior seemed like a good idea. By doing so, I recruited new witnesses to represent me and my case with more integrity.
It took a while to dawn on me that after many years of persistent effort to get something done about these circumstances, that all I could really do was to write it down. I can't talk about it - not even in soup kitchens, or meetings, where we are encouraged to 'open up'. I am unwelcome in meetings that deal with the problem I've been discussing, I'm not welcome in most churches, and my life has been threatened by violence all over the city. Because the evidence of the crime scene has been 'lost', and ongoing disruption to my efforts compromises my testimony even further, there really is no other way to prove the danger we face than to continue to take the hits, even if the crimes we deal with took place in childhood.
We have to be persistent in our effort to let the truth be known. The ongoing damage to ourselves, and our properties will be proof enough of oppression we live with in our effort to do so. Though we may be advised to do this kind of work more carefully by law firms, I believe responding to conflicts and injuries as they happen has taught me more. It is too dangerous to keep arming terrorists by carrying evidence of the crimes, threatening to use it, or stashing it away for others to plunder.
If doctors and police won't advocate for us when we provide evidence, then we have to accept the fact that the proof won't be used without confronting the same kind of violence that those who died did.
We need to understand the purpose of the violence in order to prevent it, and we do so by taking a look at ourselves. I believe the death I'm dealing with is nothing more than the effort to silence testimony. The irony of this case is that the crimes I reported were my own, and the damages I suffer are the cost of my own confessions, not reports about others. Once again, its what we've been taught to do!
Further advice I've been given is reprinted along with my own admonitions throughout this work. I hope it will be useful to my children, but its simple. If what we've been taught isn't working, we need to find better ways. So far, we've learned to be rid of the anger and fear that causes the problems, and to take care of our basic needs. Without that, there can be no progress. The negativity of contempt and hatred prevents all progress. To find out how to be rid of these obstacles yourself, please see: Fundamentals.