part 1 is here part 2 is here
part 3 is here part 4 is here
part 5 is here part 6 is here
part 7 is here part 8 is here
summer, fall, winter, spring
of the seasons i will sing
to help you through your birth
as you spend your time on earth
in the wind ~ steve miller
you have to let it go. you need to get over it. put it behind you. forget it. move on.
i can’t tell you the number of times i’ve heard well-meaning people say these things about my experience with bob. they don’t get it. this stuff has a way of getting inside of you and hiding, only to surface when you thought you had let it go.
here’s what i mean:
it was november 23, 1999, over 2 years had passed since i had sat in my perch on the northern slope of the santan mountains. i was standing outside talking on the phone with my father. he was ecstatic to hear me so filled with joy. i was euphoric. moments ago, i had held my wife in my arms as she delivered our second daughter, a beautiful blue-eyed, fair-skinned, strawberry blond baby girl. we named her ellie [name changed].
“i’m serious dad, i said. “it’s not just because she’s my daughter, she is so perfect, so beautiful.”
i couldn’t believe it. my wife was fantastic. she sailed through labor and delivered this bright-eyed baby girl with no medication, no epidural, just miles davis, john coltrane and a bit of monkey-hip gumbo and mothball stew playing in the background--the same music that was playing when our daughter was conceived.
we left the birthing center three hours later, heading home with our new baby.
at home, our oldest daughter, her stuffed dog, kimberly, and i, gathered together in our king-sized bed with mom and the new baby. we were a happy family.
this time was especially meaningful to us, because we had been forbidden from having any more children in the bob's cult. though we were older than many parents of newborns, now that we were out, we could have all the children we wanted. this one was precious.
six months after ellie was born, i was on the phone once again. my wife had called me at work, i could hear deep, deep fear in her voice. our 6-month old girl was about to be transported to the hospital in an ambulance.
i hung up the phone, raced to my red t-bird and hauled ass toward the e.r. i was scared. “bob's wife had told us not to have a baby,” i thought. then…“whoa! where did that come from?”
i hit cedar crest blvd, took a hard right and put the pedal to the floor. i didn’t know that this event was going to change our family forever--that it would redefine our lives.
this wasn’t the first time we’d been expecting since we left the cult. once we were gone, i bought health insurance as soon as i could come up with the money and we went to work, trying to have a baby. it didn’t take long. a month later, my wife gave me the good news. we were thrilled.
then, three months into the pregnancy, my wife started bleeding. she was broken-hearted when the doctor told her that we’d lost the baby. i was broken-hearted as well--sad that our dream had been squashed, sadder still for my wife, who was devastated.
being fresh out of the cult, both of us wrestled with the feelings that we were being punished for going against bob's wife. though we knew in our minds that she had no real power, deeper still were the phobias that had been planted within us. not only did we have to question whether or not we’d been wrong to go against bob's wife, whether we had killed a child in the process, but we also had to try to shake the overwhelming fear that we’d never be able to have children again—that bob's wife or perhaps even the universe itself, wouldn’t allow it.
i had to try to hide these fears from my wife. i had to reassure her that bob's wife had no power. this incident had nothing to do with the cult. she needed me to be strong. so i focused on putting the fears aside and giving my wife what she needed.
in time, we were able to push forward. it was a testament of will. we would not allow ourselves to be ruled by a false god. my wife became pregnant again and nine months later ellie was born.
now this.
when i arrived at the emergency room my wife was able to better explain what had happened. she was at the grocery store, ellie was in her baby carrier, which was attached to the shopping cart. all of the sudden our baby started to shake violently. “it looked like…a seizure?,” she said. she had run, pushing the cart and our daughter, to the in-store pharmacy. the pharmacist called 911.
the doctors were reassuring. it was likely a febrile seizure, a seizure caused by having a fever. they said it was quite common. we needn’t be worried. we were relieved.
a few weeks later it happened again.
this time it wouldn’t stop. we rushed her to the hospital. finally, they gave her ativan, a powerful tranquilizer, to stop the seizure. there was all kinds of testing. our 9 month old daughter was diagnosed with epilepsy.
the neurologist said that our daughter needed medication, phenobarbital, a powerful and highly addictive barbiturate. we asked all the questions: what are the potential side effects? will this affect her development? how long will she have to take it? and of course, is this the course of action you would take if this were your daughter?
i couldn’t imagine giving this drug to a little girl. i was quite familiar with the drugs effects, both as a n addiction counselor and a former barbiturate user. but the doctor was clear, without this medicine our daughter would continue to have seizures. and so here it comes again, this time in the form of bob’s voice in my head, “these fvckin’ doctors don’t know what the fvck they’re doing. what!…you gonna turn her into a drug addict?”
this one was even harder to fight. i was afraid of this drug…all drugs. now nearly 2 and a half years after leaving the cult, still believing all drugs were evil, i had the doctor on one side and bob on the other. i was going to give my baby girl, who didn’t even have a voice in the matter, this powerfully addictive drug. fighting everything within us, my wife and i pushed forward. out of will alone, we gave our daughter the medicine she needed.
we had to crush the pills and put them in her baby food.
we were comforted by the neurologist, who was excellent in regard to both her medical skills and her bedside manner. she told us that most seizure disorders are well controlled with medication. as long as she took her medicine and stayed healthy, she might never again have another seizure. even more promising was the fact that she would likely outgrow the seizure disorder. hers didn’t seem that serious and many children outgrow epilepsy, never having to take medication as adults.
we became students of epilepsy and neurology. we read every book, every website. we learned about the many different types of seizures. we also learned about different and rare seizure disorders. some of these rare seizure disorders were serious. some had high rates of death. some caused the victims to become mentally delayed and/or physically disabled. as a parent, reading about these debilitating conditions, i couldn’t help but become fearful at times. what if our daughter has one of these rare conditions, lennox-gastaut, syndrome, west’s syndrome, dravet’s syndrome? then i would talk myself out of it. “these illnesses are so rare,” i would tell myself. “it would be as likely as getting hit by a meteorite.”
also, as parents, we couldn’t help but notice some thing wasn’t quite right. as we learned about different kinds of seizures, some, like absence seizures, where there may be just a brief staring spell, we began to be concerned that there may be more to our daughters condition than we had originally thought.
at some point, the phenobarbitol, stopped working. our daughter began having status seizures, meaning once they started they didn’t stop without medical intervention. trips to the emergency room became more and more frequent.
ellie became accustomed to seeing doctors, having blood drawn, going to the hospital. tubes, iv’s and sticky patches attached to electrical leads became a normal part of her life. her loving spirit and outgoing, friendly personality were unaffected. when the nurse would walk into the room with a needle or an i.v. lead , emily would hold out her arm. “just a little pinch, right mommy?,” she would say. then tears would stream down her cheeks, never complaining, never resisting, as the needle was punctured her skin.
in time, she would take the punishment without tears. “i didn’t cry, mommy.” “you are so brave,” mommy would reply. “it’s just a little pinch, right mommy?”
even with the medications and the seizures, ellie developed nicely. the seizures continued to increase in frequency and severity. we tried over a dozen medications and combinations of meds. nothing seemed to help. we took her to johns-hopkins and washington university for more thorough testing—including a video e.e.g.
for her video e.e.g. she was fitted with electrical leads covering her entire head. the leads were connected to a backpack which held a device that sent the electrical information to a machine that measured seizure activity. her hospital room was equipped with video cameras so that she was monitored on video and e.e.g. 24 hours a day. we learned that she had been having about 200 seizures a day, many unnoticeable to the untrained eye. it was clear that her condition was serious.
we also learned that she had an above average iq and was on track as far her development was concerned, a rarity among children with seizure disorders of this severity.
ellie is loved by everyone who meets her. with a wide-open heart, she has always been quick to let people know her love for them. ellie loved to run and play. she loved to swing on the swing which hung from the elm tree in our backyard. full of life and with a sense of adventure, she liked to camp out in the backyard and go for neighborhood adventures with dad.
among our fondest memories is that of watching ellie glide down the giant slide at the fair, wind blowing back her hair, or seeing her ride the kiddie roller-coaster, next to her big sister. she would race down “the big hill” arms in the air, mouth open, smiling unashamedly. she would run from ride to ride, excited to take on the next new adventure.
sometimes she would walk around the house, wearing nothing but her diaper and daddy’s big black cowboy boots which went all the way to the tops of her legs. other times she'd romp around the house in her fluffy, pooh-bear costume or dance with daddy wearing her princess belle costume. aside from her seizures, she was like so many other little girls.
that all began to change between her 3rd and 4th birthdays. during this time we watched, helpless, as our bright, joy-filled little girl began to deteriorate both mentally and physically. she began to lose her balance and her coordination. at times she would fall out of her chair. her language became affected. communication became increasingly more difficult for her. she could no longer do many of the things she loved to do. when she ran she would lose balance and fall. then she began to fall while walking.
though ellie has lost many of her skills, her courage and spirit remain unaffected. like many kids with special needs she has a way of getting into your heart. today, at 10 years old, ellie goes to a regular, public school and spends most of her day in a regular 4th grade classroom. the other students in her class are a testament to the beauty of the human spirit.
each day ellie has a “buddy,” another student who plays with her and watches over her at lunch, in gym class, and on the playground. the students compete enthusiastically for the opportunity to be her “buddy” for the day.
when we take her to school, we are always inspired by seeing the children’s reactions. they run up to her and circle around her, each vying for their opportunity to hug her. last year, at the end of the year school fair, her classmates guided her up the steps of the big inflatable slide and caught her as she reached the bottom. they held her hand, smiling and laughing with her, guiding her, as she attempted to run from one attraction to another.
sadly she is rarely invited to birthday parties. it’s not because the children don’t want her, but because many of the parents don’t. they lack the courage, love and tolerance that their children possess. they’re afraid of her “condition.”
bob would call her a “bent frame,” or maybe a “retard” (though she’s neither). he would be disgusted by the same child who is loved by so many others. he would complain if he had to stand in line behind her at “sea world” or “disneyland.” he would probably make cruel comments just loud enough so we could hear. he might lean over her, smiling and talking to her, only to walk away making disparaging remarks.
ellie’s illness has had a tremendous impact on her big sister. by the time she was in 2nd or 3rd grade, it had become clear to everyone that roxanne [name changed] had, as they say, a beautiful mind. she had excelled in school to the point where it became difficult to find an environment where teachers and other students could keep up. in math and science she is able to visualize concepts that most people will go their entire lives without the capacity to see or comprehend.
unlike many people with high science and math skills, her language skills are off the charts as well. she was finishing each year with the highest gpa in every school she attended. she changed schools several times in an effort to find a challenging environment. she skipped a grade and and entered the international baccalaureate program, as a freshman, at 13. she will graduate at the at end of this school year and start college with 2 years of college credit already completed. she is 17. i call her “killer.”
she plans to complete undergrad, with a double major in chemistry and premed in 2 years. then she will enter medical school at 19. she wants to be a pediatric neurologist.
as parents, the bulk of our time and energy has been devoted to watching over ellie and trying to find the medical care she needed. sadly, roxanne was often on her own in many ways.
she has learned to take responsibility for her growth and education. she has also learned to care for her little sister.
one christmas morning, roxanne opened a box and was thrilled to find a necklace, a heart-shaped locket, she had wanted. inside the heart, we had placed a picture of our family. she was overjoyed.
ellie saw her reaction to the present and wanted a necklace as well. “where’s my necklace?” she asked. we could tell she was sad that she didn’t get a necklace like her big sister, whom she adored.
without prompting, as we continued to unwrap presents, roxanne slipped away to her room. she returned a few minutes later with a small wrapped present which she placed under the tree while ellie wasn’t looking. the tag on the present said, “to: ellie from: mommy and daddy.”
when ellie opened the box she was elated to see that mommy and daddy had also given her a necklace (roxanne’s necklace that she had boxed and wrapped) just like her big sister’s.
roxanne has never complained about the time and energy, rightfully belonging to her, that has been given instead to her little sister. in fact, she has been fully determined to become a pediatric neurologist since shortly after ellie was diagnosed. ellie's illness has driven her. she wants to find a way to help children like ellie. someday, she will master the powers of science and mathematics to ensure that other children can be free from the from this debilitating illness.
i can’t help but be thankful that rebecca was introduced to disabilities in this way as opposed to the way in which she would have been taught to view disabled children if she were in bob's organization, raised by “the family.”
she doesn’t talk about ellie a lot. she never complains about the lost vacations, last minute cancellations of family outings, the frequent late night visits by teams of firemen and paramedics, or the necessity to often have only one parent at academic awards ceremonies, concerts, and competitions, as the other parent stays home to take care of ellie.
she never complained about having to spend nearly her entire summer with my parents and my sister’s family, away from her home and friends, while her sister underwent brain surgery and stayed in the hospital, out of town, with mom.
i try to compensate taking her to rock and roll concerts, ball games, or out to dinner--just the two of us.
she is well aware of the danger her sister faces. she has taken it upon herself to research epilepsy.
sometimes late at night, we’ll sit outside on the back porch, which overlooks the neighborhood park to the south and the mountains to the west. we’ll talk. on occasion, she’ll discuss her fears, namely the fear of losing her little sister. she knows that there exists a significant chance that ellie could die from a seizure. the thought of life without ellie’s smile is too painful to consider. she realizes that ellie will probably never have the potential that she has. she fears that ellie will never be able to care for herself, live on her own, have a family.
roxanne operates in a highly competitive school environment with about 30 of the district’s brightest minds, doing 2nd year college level work. she excels in all areas of study and has won numerous academic awards. she is still committed to becoming a pediatric neurologist. she wants to cure epilepsy. and although she tries to avoid causing her mom and dad to worry about the impact of ellie's condition on her emotional state, i am sometimes able to coax her to share her feelings with me.
lately, we have been sitting out back together, talking. late at night, roxanne, looking to me with the mountains behind me, wants to talk about the cult--how it has affected her. she talks about what it was like to have her “friends,” the people who said they were her “family,” suddenly abandon her. it still hurts.
and high up above or down below
when you're too in love to let it go
but if you never try you'll never know
just what you're worth
lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
and i will try
to fix you ~coldplay
on the third night, as i sat perched on the northern slope, santan mountains to my back, lights below, stars overhead, roxanne was on my mind. i knew i could not allow her to grow up in this environment. i knew that if they managed to destroy my family, to split us up and cast me aside, they would ultimately cast my wife and child aside as well, but not before destroying them both.
virtually everyone in bob’s past had been destroyed and cast aside. this was the program’s dirty little secret. this was the thing we all knew, but never talked about—never thought about. all of the past leaders of the universal fountainhead of spiritual consciousness, were ultimately beaten down, cast aside, demonized, and left alone with nothing and no one.
that was the secret i would share with orlando, sitting on the curb behind our coffee shop, months later. it would be the last time i would ever speak to him.
i had found myself, but would still have to fight the virus with which bob and his destructive cult had infected the deepest parts of me. it was an enemy that was often difficult to find. it was difficult to separate myself from the evil, death in the name of life, truth mixed with lies, poverty disguised as abundance.
i knew i wasn’t a killer. that was bob’s claim to fame. he had claimed that he had been responsible for the deaths of several other men. i could imagine the travesty of being imprisoned for murder while he came off looking like a hero, an altruistic rehabilitator senselessly killed by a monster whom he had helped to overcome the wrath of addiction. that’s how the headlines would read. that’s what my daughter would believe.
killing bob was not an option. it was not me. i needed to be smart, creative. i refused to allow these people to break up my family. i refused to allow them to infect my daughter. i also refused to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.
steve hassan's book, combating cult mind control was written in part to help people open communication and free their family members from cults.
i wracked my brain trying to remember the book’s content. i was able to recall some of the techniques outlined in the book. cult members are most reachable when they are being ostracized or right after they’ve been “barreled,” as we called it. the cult victim’s family members can often reach beyond the cult mind-set by talking about life before the cult, causing the member to think about difference in freedom and happiness between life inside and life outside the cult. the book instructed loved one's to talk about hobbies and other activities that were important to the victim prior to the cult—things they’d given up to devote their time and energy to the cult.
there was a lot couldn’t remember, but much that i could. “i can do this,” i told myself. “i love my wife. she loves me. regardless of the contrived efforts and crazy ideas the bob and his wife have placed in our minds and emotions, i know this one thing to be true…constant. we love each other. we belong together.”
i made my final decision. i would free myself, free my wife, and free my daughter. i would do it without even the threat of violence. i would play the game, use hassan's techniques. i would connect with my wife. not the pseudo-personality created by the cult, but the with the woman i had fallen in love with.
i would return home, strong and secure. over time, i would be able to help my wife reconnect with her passion, her true self. i would make everyone believe that i was fully invested in the program. i would use the fact that i was indispensable to the organization to hold them at bay. i would wait for my moment.
i spent the rest of my week in the mountains preparing myself. i spent the better part of my days transforming my mind and body. i ran, walked, exercised, and lifted heavy rocks. i developed a deep tan. i wrote in my journal. i cleared my mind of the poison. i reviewed my life, my dreams, my achievements.
at the end of the week, i awoke at sunrise. i went for a run and reviewed my plan. i had made a decision to be on guard against fearful thoughts, mainly the fear that bob would win. i took a hike into the mountains. i realized i hadn’t heard a coyote since my first night out. i returned to the residential facility, took a shower, gathered my belongings, jumped in my red t-bird, and dropped the pedal all the way to the floor.
i pulled over near my house and sat, smoking, thinking, preparing myself to deal with whatever i might face when i returned home. in truth, i didn’t even know if my family would still be there. they could be anywhere in the country at this point.
with full resolve, i pulled into my driveway and into the garage.
i was in excellent physical condition. my mind was clearer than it had been in years. i knew exactly where i was headed.
i didn’t know what i would find when i walked into the house.
freight train, each car looks the same
and no one knows the gypsy's name
and no one hears his lonely sighs,
there are no blankets where he lies.
lord, in his deepest dreams the gypsy flies,
with sweet melissa ~greg allman
Showing posts with label jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jesus. Show all posts
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
how i was spiritually raped and left for dead (part 3)
part 1 is here
part 2 is here
prior to my move to arizona, i had hired george to serve as program director for the atlanta program. i had also arranged for bob to begin doing seminars for kids and parents.
bob had approached me, saying that his car was about to be repossessed and he was on the verge of losing his house. the houston hospital deals had fallen apart and his california residential was all but dead. the state of california had forbidden him from any involvement in drug and alcohol treatment and he had “sold” the center to former employees. he was trying to get them to make payments to him, but they weren't able to get any paying clients. he had turned the center into a “retreat” and was trying to run it, secretly meeting with the staff behind the state's back. to make matters worse, he was apparently caught by some staff members naked and in bed with a client. it was reported that he had threatened to use his influence to see to it that the client would lose her child if she didn't keep her mouth shut. additionally, some insiders claimed that his wife suspected he was sleeping with the client and that, in an attempt to catch him, she had secretly followed him to palm springs where he was supposed to be speaking at an na conference. “if i could just do seminars for the kids and parents [in all the cities where bob's organization had programs], i could make enough to get by.”
he claimed he needed $10,000 per month to “make [his] nut.” it was 1992.
bob was not well-liked in houston, so i arranged for his first seminar to take place in atlanta. i contacted george, gave him specific instructions, and although i was about to lose my own home to foreclosure (remember, i had taken on the hospital staff, and lost my best employee and older group to the guy who lived in the rock-star's house.), i paid his expenses to fly to atlanta and give seminars to the kids and parents.
what i didn’t realize at the time was that bob’s plea for help, was actually a con. he had started the process of creating a new hospital contract in arizona—a deal which would exclude his partners . he needed to take full control of at least some of the existing programs, wrestling that control from them and jim. the seminars were his vehicle.
he began in atlanta. when he got there, unbeknownst to me, he met with the staff and told them that i was “fvcked up.” he convinced them that george, my employee, should take over the program. he told them that he would arrange to get the parent group to finance the take over. he instructed them that, if i refused to allow george to take the program, they would all resign immediately, reopen under a new name, and take all of the clients with them.
next bob held his seminar with the kids and parents. the primary topic was seekingintongues is “fvcked-up.” he slandered me. “the program is going to fall apart,” he claimed. “the kids will be left with nothing. they will return to drugs and die.” then he convinced the parents to donate money so george and the staff could take control of the program. he threw his partners and long-term friends under the bus as well.
this was the start of meehan’s conscious and systematic split/hosile take-over of this national organization, controlled by bob and his two partners.
he went to st. louis, dallas, austin, and threw his partners and me under the bus in those cities as well. he convinced the the city directors to side with him. he had already managed to take over phoenix and put his own person in the directorship position there. he now had every city, except houston, to use as a referral base for his hospital contract. he realized that he could not take houston because, even though i was the “owner” on paper, the program was really controlled by one of his partners who lived there. i was the owner only in the sense that i had the legal and financial responsibility.
bob returned to houston, on my dime, and layed out the con. “atlanta is just a thorn in your side,” he said. “george is a mess. he’s not invested. if you want to survive, you need to sell atlanta to george. maybe if he owns it, he’ll pull it together and make the program work. right now, things are worse than you realize.”
of course, he neglected to tell me that george had already incorporated and taken over the program, that they had become bob’s staff, that they would simply walk away from the building we had leased and reopen in a new suite under george’s new corporation, and that i had already been “fired.”
i asked bob all the right questions, including, “are you going to split with jim and al?” he lied.
i agreed to sell atlanta to george on a payment plan which would allow him to make payments based on the amount of revenue generated. this would allow him to pay less if money was tight, more when things were good.
george never paid a dime. never.
when i was recruited to go to phoenix, shortly after i arrived, i was beaten into the ground by meehan and the other directors i was told that i didn’t deserve anything from george. i was not to be paid. i had lost my home, which had been paid for with inherited money, left houston and turned over the program to jim, was living with the current arizona director's house (i had no money), and was thrown under the bus by jim, who told everyone that everything that had gone wrong in houston was my fault.
jim painted himself as the hero who was going to fix houston (in the long-run, his entire staff ended up quitting and he was later investigated for medicaid fraud). bob painted himself as the hero who was going to fix everything else. i was held up as the source of all the problems.
the ironic part, regardless of what anyone has said, is that my programs brought more money into the organization than all the others combined. i kept the referral records for all the programs. no one, besides jim, al, and bob ever saw any of that money though. they didn’t pay me, which meant that i had great difficulty paying my staff (including those i had inherited from the hospital). i could not pay my bills. i lost my house and all the equity i had in it.
it was the culmination of all these events that allowed bob, under the preplanned, orchestrated attack delivered by all the directors, to tear up the sale contract and allow george to take the atlanta operation for free.
a side note: george has since “sold” the atlanta program and then, together with bob, beaten down the individuals he had sold it to and taken back ownership at least 2 times. in each of these “sales” the “marks” have made payments to george and received nothing back after they were ousted. their equity was simply taken away.
now i'm in arizona, having lost everything.
the arizona program was limping. the director was someone for whom i had tremendous respect.
very little money was coming in, many of the staffers were on the hospital’s payroll, allowing them to do work in the outpatient/support group program for free. in addition to my other responsibilities, i was also running older group meetings. the arizona program had several free, 12-step support groups for young people and parents that served as feeders for the inpatient, residential and intensive outpatient programs. young people and parents would come to the free support groups for help and ultimately would be shuffled into the expensive fee-based treatment programs.
the tempe support group was fledgling. the tempe parent group was dead. so i began doing parent education groups as well.
one other “slight” problem…the program was not licensed. it was/is illegal to run an unlicensed treatment program in arizona.
one day we were told that the state would be coming in to do a licensing inspection…tomorrow. i knew that the state would either grant us a license or shut the program down. it generally takes months to prepare a treatment program to be licensed. we had about 18 hours.
there was no policy & procedure manual (the first thing the state inspectors look at). there was no acceptable system for keeping client records. there was no acceptable employee file system. if i remember correctly, there was not a single person in the city who had ever written a p&p or licensed a program. except me. remember, i was the broke d!ck guy who was worried about all the “white folk crap.”
i quickly put together a team of people and, with the state regulations in hand, began writing a policy and procedure manual that was in line with state regulations. sometime after midnight, i sent the director home. he would have to be fresh at 8 am when the state came in. i created employee files and a client file system. we worked throughout the night to bring the facility up to code.
i left the following morning, finishing the job an hour before the state arrived. i went home, took a shower, and went to work at the hospital. for this effort, i was paid exactly $0.00.
that day the arizona program received its license. the state was so impressed with the policy and procedure manual and client files that they asked for copies to use for training purposes.
to this day, i have never received even a thank-you from bob or anyone else. more likely, bob ridiculed me for being “damaged” enough to be able to pull it off.
back to the story.
did my coworkers and subordinates confront me the way george explains it in his book?
it was fall of 1995, november if i remember correctly.
bob's inpatient center, which i was running, was going strong. i had built relationships with many of the insurance companies and succeeded at increasing the average length of stay for hospital patients from 5 days to 16.5 days, which was unheard of for adolescent inpatient treatment. we were receiving referrals from a variety of sources. even the other hospitals were referring patients to bob's center rather than treating them in their own facilities
i had managed to get the center moved to its own hospital wing. we painted the wing so that it did not look like a drab hospital unit. we were able to mount stereo speakers in the hallway so the kids could wake up to music. i had battled with a member of the hospital’s administration to prevent him from setting up his office on our unit, allowing us to have an office and hang-out for all of our staff. i had also arranged for breakfast to be served outside on the lawn.
each morning the kids woke up to great music. they went outside to a table with clean linens and various pastries, juices and coffee, for breakfast and a morning meditation meeting.
this was my idea of how a young person should be treated while having to live away from home and while participating in rehab. i felt that this set-up would help them maintain dignity and self-respect and serve as constant reminder to everyone who was responsible for their treatment that they were human beings rather than “dope-fiends.”
i had also begun hosting huge christmas fund-raising dances. we raised thousands of dollars each christmas to buy toys for the children living in residential treatment at the hospital. this was important to me because these kids, some as young as 4 years old, could not spend christmas with their families. many of their parents were in prison. they did not get presents, except for socks, toothbrushes, and other essentials provided by the hospital.
i was well-liked and respected by the hospital administration and the 'non-bob' hospital employees. they consulted with me on other cases, made it a point to introduce me to corporate executives, and even talked to me about concerns related to their own children.
bob never got a phone call. no complaints. more telling, no one called him to consult on other cases, meet with corporate execs, or on concerns related to their children. he was seen by the administration and the corporate execs, as a necessary pain. at that point, i could have walked away with the center, though it never would have crossed my mind to betray bob and my friends in this way.
this concerned bob's wife. she felt that i had too much power, though i had no authority over anyone.
joy also voiced concerns about my involvement with the parent support-group. i had been doing parent ed for quite some time. parent-ed sessions were standing room only. she clearly stated, to me and others, that she thought that i would use my influence with the parents to take control of the entire program.
she was paranoid. these thoughts never would have occurred to me. moreover, she was wrong. the arizona program had an exceptional parent coordinator. if anyone could have taken control, it would have been her. she also would never have betrayed anyone in such a way.
george presents it as though some of my subordinates and coworkers got together and decided they needed to confront me. that is a lie!
here’s what really happened.
george was about to marry bob's daughter. we'll call her muffy. george was living in atlanta, running the atlanta program that he'd taken from me. bob's wife was determined to see to it that muffy did not move away from her to be with george. she had to bring george to phoenix.
she created an insidious plan. she would ultimately set it up to steal the the arizona program from the current director and give it to her soon to be son-in-law. she would also set it up to send away the director and his family and move george and muffy into his house, which was in the same neighborhood where joy and bob lived.
bob initially arranged for george to be the program director, working under the current arizona director, who would be the executive director. the problem that i saw in all of this was that there was no way bob's wife was going to allow her son-in-law to be second man on the totem pole.
one option would be to get rid of me, move the current arizona director to the hospital, and move george to the position of ultimate authority in arizona. bob's wife had already begun campaigning against the current director behind his back.
bob's wife, with bob’s help, hatched a 2 part plan to drive me into the ground, probably hoping i would either leave or commit suicide.
part one: she arranged for my wife to be ostracized from the group and then harshly confronted. for months no one would talk to my wife. she had been told, without my knowledge, that i was unhappy with her, that she was flawed and on the verge of losing her family and all of her friends. after a long period of anguish and loneliness, bob's wife took her back. she befriended her, “rehabilitated” her, and took her under her wing.
part two: she set up staff to confront me. everyone involved with the phoenix program was told that i needed to be harshly confronted. it was explained to them what was wrong with me. many reported to me later that they had said that they had no complaints. they were told to come up with some. they were told to go all the way back into my past and come up with whatever they could. i needed to hear everything i’d ever done wrong, they were told. they were told that it had to be harsh. i had to be destroyed and, if i survived, rebuilt.
bringing my wife into her fold, bob's wife, who was now directing her every move, convinced her that the “defects” for which she had been previously ostracized were the result of being married to me. i was the source of all of her problems. i had held her back all these years and would continue to, not only hold her back, but destroy our daughter as well, unless i changed everything or unless my wife left me.
i should also point out that george was conveniently out of town when the confrontation took place. later, both he and bob's wife blamed the whole thing on the the arizona director, the guy who was doing what he was told to do by bob and his wife. it was part of what was used to discredit him and to take the arizona program and give it to george.
the confrontation
it was a fall evening in arizona. my wife, my daughter and i had moved into a modest 3 bedroom house in scottsdale. i was standing in the backyard, just outside the sliding glass door which opened into the family room. to my left was my daughter's swing-set. the sky was strange. unnatural streaks of pink and burnt orange stretched out from the western horizon as though the colors were struggling to escape the darkness which was drowning the sun in the desert dust.
the wind was gusting, blowing the empty swings, twisting them slightly, as though an invisible hand was holding them out in front of their natural lie. toxic oleanders formed a lovely and inviting hedge, enclosing the yard and hiding the 6-foot tall cinder block fence. something didn't feel right.
it was “purpose” night. every other friday night, at 7 pm, every staff member in every city, along with their spouses would gather for pseudo-therapy groups facilitated by the city directors. we called these meetings “purpose meetings.” the idea was that we would gather to expose and resolve any personal shortcomings which interfered with the program's “primary purpose.” what was our primary purpose? “...to carry our love and understanding to others and practice the principles of love and honesty in our daily lives with the help of god as we understand him.”
there was always some degree of anxiety associated with purpose meetings. one never knew when the the attention would be focused on him or her. anyone could be charged with spiritual corruption at any time. often, the consequences were severe.
through the glass door, i could see my blond-haired, blue-eyed daughter playing play-doh on the floor. my wife was greeting the baby-sitter who had just arrived. the baby-sitter had been chosen for us by linda, bob's “spiritual daughter” and the most trusted member of his inner-circle. linda's husband arrived a little later. he was also part of bob's innermost circle and was bob's best friend.
i later learned that his job was to take my daughter and hide her if i tried to leave during purpose. they had arranged a scenario where, either i would endure an orchestrated attack and demonstrate that i “got it,” or i would be put out on the streets without my family. if i tried to go home without their blessing, linda's husband would take my daughter. “bob's girls” would take my wife.
i knew something was up, but i didn't realize the extent to which they had gone to set me up.
my wife and i backed out of the carport and drove silently south, out of our neighborhood and then west, toward the struggling sunset on our way to our purpose meeting. we were both anxious. we knew something wasn't right, but neither of us knew what was about to happen.
we parked in the side lot and entered the building through the steel door which separated the meeting room from the back alley. the floor was covered with bluish industrial carpet. the walls were textured and painted off-white. about 30 folding chairs lined the walls, making a sloppy oval. there were a number of other staffers milling about. they had been prepped for the meeting.
the air was filled with trepidation. in a forced gesture of betrayal, several staffers hugged me and smiled at me, though none would look me in the eye.
a couple of “bob's girls,” members of his inner circle, immediately guided my wife to one of the offices and closed the door. the director led me to his office. he closed the door. we sat down.
he said to me, “dude, this purpose is going to be about you.” he attempted to hold a compassionate facial expression. he continued, “some people have some things they want to say to you. it's going to be tough.” he explained that they were doing this because they loved me and that it was going to help me. after a speech that sounded as much like a justification as it did an explanation, he said, “you don't have to go through this if you don't want to.”
at that point, i got it. what choice did i have? if i didn't go through with it i'd be put on the streets. bob's wife, who was pulling the strings over the telephone would convince my wife that i had gone crazy. they would whisk her away and take my daughter as well. besides, if they said i was this screwed-up, i'd better pay attention. this group was my lifeline, my family. they knew me better that i knew myself. they loved me unconditionally. that was what i'd been taught.
then the director said, why don't you stay here and pray. i'll come get you when we're ready.
so, i prayed.
a short time later, the director returned. he escorted me to the meeting room and motioned for me to sit in the only available folding chair. the other chairs were filled with about 30 of my friends--thirty staffers who had called themselves family, people who had professed their love for me.
my wife was positioned across from me. to her sides were “bob's girls.” she was obviously terrified. they comforted her. they had convinced her that she had to be tough on me—that my life was on the line. that i was spiritually bankrupt and that my condition threatened the well-being of both her and our daughter. they were doing this to save them and, if possible, save me. if she showed any compassion, she would sabotage the entire process.
for the next 7 hours each person in the room, including my wife, took turns verbally assaulting me. they confronted me with every unkind word or action, real or imagined, that i had spoken or taken over the last 10 years. they assigned nefarious motives everything i had done, good or bad. they told me how the evil deep within me had caused me to harm everyone and threatened the very existence of the program, even though i was unaware of any desire to cause harm.
they provided long and painful explanations of how i was harming my wife and daughter, holding them back from spiritual and financial freedom. they said i was unconsciously trying to “keep them down,” so they wouldn't leave me.
the director's wife, whom i had considered to be one of my most trusted friends, said to me, “i know i'm supposed to love you unconditionally, but i can't find a single redeeming quality in you. i look at you and all i see is pure evil.”
at some point, my wife left the room with linda. they went into an office and got on the phone with bob's wife. she returned a few minutes (or a few hours) later.
after she returned, flanked by “bob's girls,” she made it clear that if i didn't “get it” and have an immediate change, i wasn't coming home. a stream of bob's wife's ideas came out of her mouth. she said she'd worked hard to get where she was (spiritually). she said that she had worked hard to develop the close friendships she currently enjoyed. (these were the friends who had ostracized her just a few months earlier, refusing to even answer a phone call, no matter how much she was hurting.) she told me she would no longer allow me to hold her or our daughter back.
there was blood in the water. at some point, the confrontation went beyond anything that was supposed to be helpful to me or anyone else. instead, every fear, every bit of anger, all the desperation, dread, hurt and betrayal perpetrated upon these people by bob's dysfunctional totalitarian regime was directed at me. these people had devoted their lives to bob's program. in return, they had been made to work endlessly for little or no pay. they had been forced to move from city to city to do “god's work.” they lived in poverty. they were constantly afraid.
but no one dared to admit their fear, dread, hurt and anger, not even to themselves. on this night it would be vomited on me.
also at some point, i realized that i was floating above my body. it was strange, but i was actually able to look down on myself. people in the room were getting increasingly angry at my lack of an emotional response. but i was powerless to respond. i wasn't there.
sometime around 2 a.m., linda decided that i “got it.” she told my wife that it was okay for me to go home. she said that i hadn't responded because i was “in shock,” which was true. also true was the fact that enough of my real shortcomings were mixed in with everything that was said about me that i believed that everything they said was true. since i was pure evil on the inside, i had little hope that i could change.
later i was told that some of the them had expected me to commit suicide that night. they were happy that i had "chosen life."
for the next year, i suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. i wouldn't say that i changed so much as that the experience changed me. gone was my creativity, passion, sense of humor, desire to help others. i didn't watch tv, read a book (other than program literature) or see a movie. i didn't feel i was worthy to even have a desire to do anything enjoyable.
i didn't dare laugh or smile. i didn't allow myself even a single pleasurable thought. for a year, i was a zombie. i had spells of uncontrollable sobbing. whenever, my daughter acted out, i had to leave, because i couldn't stop crying. i had destroyed this beautiful child that i loved more than anything in the world. i had brought evil upon everyone with whom i had come in contact, even when i thought i was trying to help them. as one staffer put it to me, i was “toxic.”
i was broken.
one night, a few months after that purpose meeting, i was with a couple of other staffers when they decided to stop for ice cream. as they ordered their ice cream, i became afraid. i wasn't sure what to do. was i supposed to have ice cream? was i allowed to? i finally worked up the courage to ask them, “am i allowed to eat ice cream?”
i was 33.
part 4 coming soon—(just when you thought it couldn't get any worse)
part 2 is here
prior to my move to arizona, i had hired george to serve as program director for the atlanta program. i had also arranged for bob to begin doing seminars for kids and parents.
bob had approached me, saying that his car was about to be repossessed and he was on the verge of losing his house. the houston hospital deals had fallen apart and his california residential was all but dead. the state of california had forbidden him from any involvement in drug and alcohol treatment and he had “sold” the center to former employees. he was trying to get them to make payments to him, but they weren't able to get any paying clients. he had turned the center into a “retreat” and was trying to run it, secretly meeting with the staff behind the state's back. to make matters worse, he was apparently caught by some staff members naked and in bed with a client. it was reported that he had threatened to use his influence to see to it that the client would lose her child if she didn't keep her mouth shut. additionally, some insiders claimed that his wife suspected he was sleeping with the client and that, in an attempt to catch him, she had secretly followed him to palm springs where he was supposed to be speaking at an na conference. “if i could just do seminars for the kids and parents [in all the cities where bob's organization had programs], i could make enough to get by.”
he claimed he needed $10,000 per month to “make [his] nut.” it was 1992.
bob was not well-liked in houston, so i arranged for his first seminar to take place in atlanta. i contacted george, gave him specific instructions, and although i was about to lose my own home to foreclosure (remember, i had taken on the hospital staff, and lost my best employee and older group to the guy who lived in the rock-star's house.), i paid his expenses to fly to atlanta and give seminars to the kids and parents.
what i didn’t realize at the time was that bob’s plea for help, was actually a con. he had started the process of creating a new hospital contract in arizona—a deal which would exclude his partners . he needed to take full control of at least some of the existing programs, wrestling that control from them and jim. the seminars were his vehicle.
he began in atlanta. when he got there, unbeknownst to me, he met with the staff and told them that i was “fvcked up.” he convinced them that george, my employee, should take over the program. he told them that he would arrange to get the parent group to finance the take over. he instructed them that, if i refused to allow george to take the program, they would all resign immediately, reopen under a new name, and take all of the clients with them.
next bob held his seminar with the kids and parents. the primary topic was seekingintongues is “fvcked-up.” he slandered me. “the program is going to fall apart,” he claimed. “the kids will be left with nothing. they will return to drugs and die.” then he convinced the parents to donate money so george and the staff could take control of the program. he threw his partners and long-term friends under the bus as well.
this was the start of meehan’s conscious and systematic split/hosile take-over of this national organization, controlled by bob and his two partners.
he went to st. louis, dallas, austin, and threw his partners and me under the bus in those cities as well. he convinced the the city directors to side with him. he had already managed to take over phoenix and put his own person in the directorship position there. he now had every city, except houston, to use as a referral base for his hospital contract. he realized that he could not take houston because, even though i was the “owner” on paper, the program was really controlled by one of his partners who lived there. i was the owner only in the sense that i had the legal and financial responsibility.
bob returned to houston, on my dime, and layed out the con. “atlanta is just a thorn in your side,” he said. “george is a mess. he’s not invested. if you want to survive, you need to sell atlanta to george. maybe if he owns it, he’ll pull it together and make the program work. right now, things are worse than you realize.”
of course, he neglected to tell me that george had already incorporated and taken over the program, that they had become bob’s staff, that they would simply walk away from the building we had leased and reopen in a new suite under george’s new corporation, and that i had already been “fired.”
i asked bob all the right questions, including, “are you going to split with jim and al?” he lied.
i agreed to sell atlanta to george on a payment plan which would allow him to make payments based on the amount of revenue generated. this would allow him to pay less if money was tight, more when things were good.
george never paid a dime. never.
when i was recruited to go to phoenix, shortly after i arrived, i was beaten into the ground by meehan and the other directors i was told that i didn’t deserve anything from george. i was not to be paid. i had lost my home, which had been paid for with inherited money, left houston and turned over the program to jim, was living with the current arizona director's house (i had no money), and was thrown under the bus by jim, who told everyone that everything that had gone wrong in houston was my fault.
jim painted himself as the hero who was going to fix houston (in the long-run, his entire staff ended up quitting and he was later investigated for medicaid fraud). bob painted himself as the hero who was going to fix everything else. i was held up as the source of all the problems.
the ironic part, regardless of what anyone has said, is that my programs brought more money into the organization than all the others combined. i kept the referral records for all the programs. no one, besides jim, al, and bob ever saw any of that money though. they didn’t pay me, which meant that i had great difficulty paying my staff (including those i had inherited from the hospital). i could not pay my bills. i lost my house and all the equity i had in it.
it was the culmination of all these events that allowed bob, under the preplanned, orchestrated attack delivered by all the directors, to tear up the sale contract and allow george to take the atlanta operation for free.
a side note: george has since “sold” the atlanta program and then, together with bob, beaten down the individuals he had sold it to and taken back ownership at least 2 times. in each of these “sales” the “marks” have made payments to george and received nothing back after they were ousted. their equity was simply taken away.
now i'm in arizona, having lost everything.
the arizona program was limping. the director was someone for whom i had tremendous respect.
very little money was coming in, many of the staffers were on the hospital’s payroll, allowing them to do work in the outpatient/support group program for free. in addition to my other responsibilities, i was also running older group meetings. the arizona program had several free, 12-step support groups for young people and parents that served as feeders for the inpatient, residential and intensive outpatient programs. young people and parents would come to the free support groups for help and ultimately would be shuffled into the expensive fee-based treatment programs.
the tempe support group was fledgling. the tempe parent group was dead. so i began doing parent education groups as well.
one other “slight” problem…the program was not licensed. it was/is illegal to run an unlicensed treatment program in arizona.
one day we were told that the state would be coming in to do a licensing inspection…tomorrow. i knew that the state would either grant us a license or shut the program down. it generally takes months to prepare a treatment program to be licensed. we had about 18 hours.
there was no policy & procedure manual (the first thing the state inspectors look at). there was no acceptable system for keeping client records. there was no acceptable employee file system. if i remember correctly, there was not a single person in the city who had ever written a p&p or licensed a program. except me. remember, i was the broke d!ck guy who was worried about all the “white folk crap.”
i quickly put together a team of people and, with the state regulations in hand, began writing a policy and procedure manual that was in line with state regulations. sometime after midnight, i sent the director home. he would have to be fresh at 8 am when the state came in. i created employee files and a client file system. we worked throughout the night to bring the facility up to code.
i left the following morning, finishing the job an hour before the state arrived. i went home, took a shower, and went to work at the hospital. for this effort, i was paid exactly $0.00.
that day the arizona program received its license. the state was so impressed with the policy and procedure manual and client files that they asked for copies to use for training purposes.
to this day, i have never received even a thank-you from bob or anyone else. more likely, bob ridiculed me for being “damaged” enough to be able to pull it off.
back to the story.
did my coworkers and subordinates confront me the way george explains it in his book?
it was fall of 1995, november if i remember correctly.
bob's inpatient center, which i was running, was going strong. i had built relationships with many of the insurance companies and succeeded at increasing the average length of stay for hospital patients from 5 days to 16.5 days, which was unheard of for adolescent inpatient treatment. we were receiving referrals from a variety of sources. even the other hospitals were referring patients to bob's center rather than treating them in their own facilities
i had managed to get the center moved to its own hospital wing. we painted the wing so that it did not look like a drab hospital unit. we were able to mount stereo speakers in the hallway so the kids could wake up to music. i had battled with a member of the hospital’s administration to prevent him from setting up his office on our unit, allowing us to have an office and hang-out for all of our staff. i had also arranged for breakfast to be served outside on the lawn.
each morning the kids woke up to great music. they went outside to a table with clean linens and various pastries, juices and coffee, for breakfast and a morning meditation meeting.
this was my idea of how a young person should be treated while having to live away from home and while participating in rehab. i felt that this set-up would help them maintain dignity and self-respect and serve as constant reminder to everyone who was responsible for their treatment that they were human beings rather than “dope-fiends.”
i had also begun hosting huge christmas fund-raising dances. we raised thousands of dollars each christmas to buy toys for the children living in residential treatment at the hospital. this was important to me because these kids, some as young as 4 years old, could not spend christmas with their families. many of their parents were in prison. they did not get presents, except for socks, toothbrushes, and other essentials provided by the hospital.
i was well-liked and respected by the hospital administration and the 'non-bob' hospital employees. they consulted with me on other cases, made it a point to introduce me to corporate executives, and even talked to me about concerns related to their own children.
bob never got a phone call. no complaints. more telling, no one called him to consult on other cases, meet with corporate execs, or on concerns related to their children. he was seen by the administration and the corporate execs, as a necessary pain. at that point, i could have walked away with the center, though it never would have crossed my mind to betray bob and my friends in this way.
this concerned bob's wife. she felt that i had too much power, though i had no authority over anyone.
joy also voiced concerns about my involvement with the parent support-group. i had been doing parent ed for quite some time. parent-ed sessions were standing room only. she clearly stated, to me and others, that she thought that i would use my influence with the parents to take control of the entire program.
she was paranoid. these thoughts never would have occurred to me. moreover, she was wrong. the arizona program had an exceptional parent coordinator. if anyone could have taken control, it would have been her. she also would never have betrayed anyone in such a way.
george presents it as though some of my subordinates and coworkers got together and decided they needed to confront me. that is a lie!
here’s what really happened.
george was about to marry bob's daughter. we'll call her muffy. george was living in atlanta, running the atlanta program that he'd taken from me. bob's wife was determined to see to it that muffy did not move away from her to be with george. she had to bring george to phoenix.
she created an insidious plan. she would ultimately set it up to steal the the arizona program from the current director and give it to her soon to be son-in-law. she would also set it up to send away the director and his family and move george and muffy into his house, which was in the same neighborhood where joy and bob lived.
bob initially arranged for george to be the program director, working under the current arizona director, who would be the executive director. the problem that i saw in all of this was that there was no way bob's wife was going to allow her son-in-law to be second man on the totem pole.
one option would be to get rid of me, move the current arizona director to the hospital, and move george to the position of ultimate authority in arizona. bob's wife had already begun campaigning against the current director behind his back.
bob's wife, with bob’s help, hatched a 2 part plan to drive me into the ground, probably hoping i would either leave or commit suicide.
part one: she arranged for my wife to be ostracized from the group and then harshly confronted. for months no one would talk to my wife. she had been told, without my knowledge, that i was unhappy with her, that she was flawed and on the verge of losing her family and all of her friends. after a long period of anguish and loneliness, bob's wife took her back. she befriended her, “rehabilitated” her, and took her under her wing.
part two: she set up staff to confront me. everyone involved with the phoenix program was told that i needed to be harshly confronted. it was explained to them what was wrong with me. many reported to me later that they had said that they had no complaints. they were told to come up with some. they were told to go all the way back into my past and come up with whatever they could. i needed to hear everything i’d ever done wrong, they were told. they were told that it had to be harsh. i had to be destroyed and, if i survived, rebuilt.
bringing my wife into her fold, bob's wife, who was now directing her every move, convinced her that the “defects” for which she had been previously ostracized were the result of being married to me. i was the source of all of her problems. i had held her back all these years and would continue to, not only hold her back, but destroy our daughter as well, unless i changed everything or unless my wife left me.
i should also point out that george was conveniently out of town when the confrontation took place. later, both he and bob's wife blamed the whole thing on the the arizona director, the guy who was doing what he was told to do by bob and his wife. it was part of what was used to discredit him and to take the arizona program and give it to george.
the confrontation
it was a fall evening in arizona. my wife, my daughter and i had moved into a modest 3 bedroom house in scottsdale. i was standing in the backyard, just outside the sliding glass door which opened into the family room. to my left was my daughter's swing-set. the sky was strange. unnatural streaks of pink and burnt orange stretched out from the western horizon as though the colors were struggling to escape the darkness which was drowning the sun in the desert dust.
the wind was gusting, blowing the empty swings, twisting them slightly, as though an invisible hand was holding them out in front of their natural lie. toxic oleanders formed a lovely and inviting hedge, enclosing the yard and hiding the 6-foot tall cinder block fence. something didn't feel right.
it was “purpose” night. every other friday night, at 7 pm, every staff member in every city, along with their spouses would gather for pseudo-therapy groups facilitated by the city directors. we called these meetings “purpose meetings.” the idea was that we would gather to expose and resolve any personal shortcomings which interfered with the program's “primary purpose.” what was our primary purpose? “...to carry our love and understanding to others and practice the principles of love and honesty in our daily lives with the help of god as we understand him.”
there was always some degree of anxiety associated with purpose meetings. one never knew when the the attention would be focused on him or her. anyone could be charged with spiritual corruption at any time. often, the consequences were severe.
through the glass door, i could see my blond-haired, blue-eyed daughter playing play-doh on the floor. my wife was greeting the baby-sitter who had just arrived. the baby-sitter had been chosen for us by linda, bob's “spiritual daughter” and the most trusted member of his inner-circle. linda's husband arrived a little later. he was also part of bob's innermost circle and was bob's best friend.
i later learned that his job was to take my daughter and hide her if i tried to leave during purpose. they had arranged a scenario where, either i would endure an orchestrated attack and demonstrate that i “got it,” or i would be put out on the streets without my family. if i tried to go home without their blessing, linda's husband would take my daughter. “bob's girls” would take my wife.
i knew something was up, but i didn't realize the extent to which they had gone to set me up.
my wife and i backed out of the carport and drove silently south, out of our neighborhood and then west, toward the struggling sunset on our way to our purpose meeting. we were both anxious. we knew something wasn't right, but neither of us knew what was about to happen.
we parked in the side lot and entered the building through the steel door which separated the meeting room from the back alley. the floor was covered with bluish industrial carpet. the walls were textured and painted off-white. about 30 folding chairs lined the walls, making a sloppy oval. there were a number of other staffers milling about. they had been prepped for the meeting.
the air was filled with trepidation. in a forced gesture of betrayal, several staffers hugged me and smiled at me, though none would look me in the eye.
a couple of “bob's girls,” members of his inner circle, immediately guided my wife to one of the offices and closed the door. the director led me to his office. he closed the door. we sat down.
he said to me, “dude, this purpose is going to be about you.” he attempted to hold a compassionate facial expression. he continued, “some people have some things they want to say to you. it's going to be tough.” he explained that they were doing this because they loved me and that it was going to help me. after a speech that sounded as much like a justification as it did an explanation, he said, “you don't have to go through this if you don't want to.”
at that point, i got it. what choice did i have? if i didn't go through with it i'd be put on the streets. bob's wife, who was pulling the strings over the telephone would convince my wife that i had gone crazy. they would whisk her away and take my daughter as well. besides, if they said i was this screwed-up, i'd better pay attention. this group was my lifeline, my family. they knew me better that i knew myself. they loved me unconditionally. that was what i'd been taught.
then the director said, why don't you stay here and pray. i'll come get you when we're ready.
so, i prayed.
a short time later, the director returned. he escorted me to the meeting room and motioned for me to sit in the only available folding chair. the other chairs were filled with about 30 of my friends--thirty staffers who had called themselves family, people who had professed their love for me.
my wife was positioned across from me. to her sides were “bob's girls.” she was obviously terrified. they comforted her. they had convinced her that she had to be tough on me—that my life was on the line. that i was spiritually bankrupt and that my condition threatened the well-being of both her and our daughter. they were doing this to save them and, if possible, save me. if she showed any compassion, she would sabotage the entire process.
for the next 7 hours each person in the room, including my wife, took turns verbally assaulting me. they confronted me with every unkind word or action, real or imagined, that i had spoken or taken over the last 10 years. they assigned nefarious motives everything i had done, good or bad. they told me how the evil deep within me had caused me to harm everyone and threatened the very existence of the program, even though i was unaware of any desire to cause harm.
they provided long and painful explanations of how i was harming my wife and daughter, holding them back from spiritual and financial freedom. they said i was unconsciously trying to “keep them down,” so they wouldn't leave me.
the director's wife, whom i had considered to be one of my most trusted friends, said to me, “i know i'm supposed to love you unconditionally, but i can't find a single redeeming quality in you. i look at you and all i see is pure evil.”
at some point, my wife left the room with linda. they went into an office and got on the phone with bob's wife. she returned a few minutes (or a few hours) later.
after she returned, flanked by “bob's girls,” she made it clear that if i didn't “get it” and have an immediate change, i wasn't coming home. a stream of bob's wife's ideas came out of her mouth. she said she'd worked hard to get where she was (spiritually). she said that she had worked hard to develop the close friendships she currently enjoyed. (these were the friends who had ostracized her just a few months earlier, refusing to even answer a phone call, no matter how much she was hurting.) she told me she would no longer allow me to hold her or our daughter back.
there was blood in the water. at some point, the confrontation went beyond anything that was supposed to be helpful to me or anyone else. instead, every fear, every bit of anger, all the desperation, dread, hurt and betrayal perpetrated upon these people by bob's dysfunctional totalitarian regime was directed at me. these people had devoted their lives to bob's program. in return, they had been made to work endlessly for little or no pay. they had been forced to move from city to city to do “god's work.” they lived in poverty. they were constantly afraid.
but no one dared to admit their fear, dread, hurt and anger, not even to themselves. on this night it would be vomited on me.
also at some point, i realized that i was floating above my body. it was strange, but i was actually able to look down on myself. people in the room were getting increasingly angry at my lack of an emotional response. but i was powerless to respond. i wasn't there.
sometime around 2 a.m., linda decided that i “got it.” she told my wife that it was okay for me to go home. she said that i hadn't responded because i was “in shock,” which was true. also true was the fact that enough of my real shortcomings were mixed in with everything that was said about me that i believed that everything they said was true. since i was pure evil on the inside, i had little hope that i could change.
later i was told that some of the them had expected me to commit suicide that night. they were happy that i had "chosen life."
for the next year, i suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. i wouldn't say that i changed so much as that the experience changed me. gone was my creativity, passion, sense of humor, desire to help others. i didn't watch tv, read a book (other than program literature) or see a movie. i didn't feel i was worthy to even have a desire to do anything enjoyable.
i didn't dare laugh or smile. i didn't allow myself even a single pleasurable thought. for a year, i was a zombie. i had spells of uncontrollable sobbing. whenever, my daughter acted out, i had to leave, because i couldn't stop crying. i had destroyed this beautiful child that i loved more than anything in the world. i had brought evil upon everyone with whom i had come in contact, even when i thought i was trying to help them. as one staffer put it to me, i was “toxic.”
i was broken.
one night, a few months after that purpose meeting, i was with a couple of other staffers when they decided to stop for ice cream. as they ordered their ice cream, i became afraid. i wasn't sure what to do. was i supposed to have ice cream? was i allowed to? i finally worked up the courage to ask them, “am i allowed to eat ice cream?”
i was 33.
part 4 coming soon—(just when you thought it couldn't get any worse)
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
god has a purpose for me (part 4)
read part 1 here
read part 2 here
read part 3 here
i could find relief only in knowing that it was the right thing to do. this god thing had to be stamped out, lest my wife and daughter suffer due to my own selfish desire to believe.
bob and his wife attempted to destroy my marriage and family. for several years, they drove a wedge between us, coercing us into “reporting” on each other. our house was not our house, it was his. bob and his wife were “present” in our house, at our meals, in our bedroom, 24 hours a day 7 days a week. there was no sanctuary in our home, because anything we said or did would be reported to them. i was constantly on guard, watching every comment, every facial expression, every act for fear that these would be reported to the bob and his wife and used against me.
when my wife and i had the thought that we might want to have another child (we’d had one prior to being fully indoctrinated), my wife went to them to ask their approval. the result was that they pushed harder to drive us apart. they put a total stop to our sex life. not only would a child make it more difficult to separate my wife from me, but it angered them that my wife would even have this desire independent of them. bob's wife had thought she was much closer to separating us than she had been.
they controlled every aspect of our parenting of our daughter. at one point, i suffered a brutal verbal beating by bob and his wife, followed by weeks of being ostracized by them, my friends in the organization, and my wife.
my crime? i helped my daughter remove some excess salad dressing that she had accidentally spilled on her salad. according to bob's wife, this act somehow represented an undermining of my wife’s authority and a statement of male-chauvinism. in addition to the former punishment, she saw to it that my wife and i were not intimate for months.
thirteen years ago i left bob and his organization. thankfully, i was able to get my wife and child out as well. it wasn’t easy. in order to get them out, i had to become as crafty and manipulative as bob.
after a turn of events caused me to realize that bob's organization was a destructive cult, i had to fool him and the others, causing them to believe that i was still loyal to them until i was able to create an opportunity to reach my wife. it was during this period that bob told me that, now that i realized there was nothing out there (meaning no god), i needed to put my full faith in him. “i am the closest thing to a god that you’ll ever have,” he said.
it was too late. he had been god to me for a long time, but not any more.
a lot has changed over 13 years. my wife and i have enjoyed great intimacy at times. we have had two more children. my oldest daughter is an excellent student and gifted musician. we are, for the most part, happy. i have retained employment and been able to make ends meet. i have also been fortunate enough to continue my education, taking college classes and attending frequent workshops, seminars and conferences related to my work. i get to listen to and play music again. long gone is the fear that my actions, thoughts, moods are going to be reported. also gone is the once constant fear of being torn away from my family or being banished from the spiritual fold.
for years i had nightmares that bob and his wife came and took my family away. i still occassionally have those dreams.
i enjoy spending time with my 3 daughters. we laugh and play heartily. i am a good father and take pride in my attentiveness as a father.
also, i have rekindled my passion for helping people. it is rewarding to see the impact of my work on the individuals and families i have helped. this brings me joy.
that said, there is one thing that continues to elude me...faith. as hard as i’ve tried, i simply can’t believe for a sustained period. i have attended churches, read religious and spiritual materials, prayed. i’ve literally strained to believe; yet faith continues to elude me.
when i begin to believe, i can’t seem to help feeling as though i’m setting myself up to be conned once again. worse, everything that i hear or read from those who do have faith, in regard to what is necessary to obtain it, sounds suspiciously familiar to the things i was taught by bob.
i know there are those that will say that millions have been harmed and in the name of religion. and certainly that’s true. i have no doubt that others, like bob have used god and religion for evil purposes. many have been harmed by their local churches. others have lived in fear and guilt handed out through mainstream religious doctrine.
religions have been responsible for tragedies such as war, racism, sexual discrimination, slavery, sexual abuse, bigotry, hate, homophobia, abuse of power, and fascism just to name a few. however, until i met bob, that was not my experience. the god that was in my heart would never do these things.
i was taught that all people were equal in the eyes of god—that you couldn’t judge a person by the color of their skin, their sexuality, their culture or heritage, or the size of their bank account. i was never a huge proponent of organized religion, which i had learned was not what truly what represented “the church”. a church, to me, was simply an organization where, believers could gather and enjoy fellowship.
i was warned from an early age to never put my faith in any individual—that all of us had a direct link to god and had no need for an intercessory. i was taught and believed that god alone had the corner on truth. i believed that there were many paths to god.
i grew up believing that god would reveal himself to everyone. that he was concerned with our day to day lives. that he would help us when we needed help. that we were all god’s children. that he loved us equally.
i grew up believing that we were created by a loving god.
never in my life was anything more dear to me...more important.
god has a purpose for me.
or at least he did.
where did it go?
epilogue
no doubt, some will judge me harshly for allowing myself to be fooled in such a dramatic way. others will claim that, had i truly had faith, or the right kind of faith, or believed in the right god, i would have been "protected" from this evil. but i am telling this story because i believe that virtually anyone is vulnerable. scientology, children of god, the branch davidians, end time ministries, the unification church, the cornerstone program, pathway drug abuse program, the way international, lifespring, the jim roberts group, synanon, erhardt seminar trainin and fundamentalist latter day saints are a just a few organizations that have coaxed thousands away from their lives, their families, their faiths.
they promise truth and deliver lies.
in my case, it never occurred to me that anyone could be as manipulative as bob. additionally, i was vulnerable precisely because i believed that my faith would protect me from lies.
how did i allow someone to have such total control over my life? why didn't i just leave in the beginning? how could anyone give away so much power?
i will tell that story, on this blog, over the next year. hope you'll stay tuned.
seeking in tongues
read part 2 here
read part 3 here
i could find relief only in knowing that it was the right thing to do. this god thing had to be stamped out, lest my wife and daughter suffer due to my own selfish desire to believe.
bob and his wife attempted to destroy my marriage and family. for several years, they drove a wedge between us, coercing us into “reporting” on each other. our house was not our house, it was his. bob and his wife were “present” in our house, at our meals, in our bedroom, 24 hours a day 7 days a week. there was no sanctuary in our home, because anything we said or did would be reported to them. i was constantly on guard, watching every comment, every facial expression, every act for fear that these would be reported to the bob and his wife and used against me.
when my wife and i had the thought that we might want to have another child (we’d had one prior to being fully indoctrinated), my wife went to them to ask their approval. the result was that they pushed harder to drive us apart. they put a total stop to our sex life. not only would a child make it more difficult to separate my wife from me, but it angered them that my wife would even have this desire independent of them. bob's wife had thought she was much closer to separating us than she had been.
they controlled every aspect of our parenting of our daughter. at one point, i suffered a brutal verbal beating by bob and his wife, followed by weeks of being ostracized by them, my friends in the organization, and my wife.
my crime? i helped my daughter remove some excess salad dressing that she had accidentally spilled on her salad. according to bob's wife, this act somehow represented an undermining of my wife’s authority and a statement of male-chauvinism. in addition to the former punishment, she saw to it that my wife and i were not intimate for months.
thirteen years ago i left bob and his organization. thankfully, i was able to get my wife and child out as well. it wasn’t easy. in order to get them out, i had to become as crafty and manipulative as bob.
after a turn of events caused me to realize that bob's organization was a destructive cult, i had to fool him and the others, causing them to believe that i was still loyal to them until i was able to create an opportunity to reach my wife. it was during this period that bob told me that, now that i realized there was nothing out there (meaning no god), i needed to put my full faith in him. “i am the closest thing to a god that you’ll ever have,” he said.
it was too late. he had been god to me for a long time, but not any more.
a lot has changed over 13 years. my wife and i have enjoyed great intimacy at times. we have had two more children. my oldest daughter is an excellent student and gifted musician. we are, for the most part, happy. i have retained employment and been able to make ends meet. i have also been fortunate enough to continue my education, taking college classes and attending frequent workshops, seminars and conferences related to my work. i get to listen to and play music again. long gone is the fear that my actions, thoughts, moods are going to be reported. also gone is the once constant fear of being torn away from my family or being banished from the spiritual fold.
for years i had nightmares that bob and his wife came and took my family away. i still occassionally have those dreams.
i enjoy spending time with my 3 daughters. we laugh and play heartily. i am a good father and take pride in my attentiveness as a father.
also, i have rekindled my passion for helping people. it is rewarding to see the impact of my work on the individuals and families i have helped. this brings me joy.
that said, there is one thing that continues to elude me...faith. as hard as i’ve tried, i simply can’t believe for a sustained period. i have attended churches, read religious and spiritual materials, prayed. i’ve literally strained to believe; yet faith continues to elude me.
when i begin to believe, i can’t seem to help feeling as though i’m setting myself up to be conned once again. worse, everything that i hear or read from those who do have faith, in regard to what is necessary to obtain it, sounds suspiciously familiar to the things i was taught by bob.
i know there are those that will say that millions have been harmed and in the name of religion. and certainly that’s true. i have no doubt that others, like bob have used god and religion for evil purposes. many have been harmed by their local churches. others have lived in fear and guilt handed out through mainstream religious doctrine.
religions have been responsible for tragedies such as war, racism, sexual discrimination, slavery, sexual abuse, bigotry, hate, homophobia, abuse of power, and fascism just to name a few. however, until i met bob, that was not my experience. the god that was in my heart would never do these things.
i was taught that all people were equal in the eyes of god—that you couldn’t judge a person by the color of their skin, their sexuality, their culture or heritage, or the size of their bank account. i was never a huge proponent of organized religion, which i had learned was not what truly what represented “the church”. a church, to me, was simply an organization where, believers could gather and enjoy fellowship.
i was warned from an early age to never put my faith in any individual—that all of us had a direct link to god and had no need for an intercessory. i was taught and believed that god alone had the corner on truth. i believed that there were many paths to god.
i grew up believing that god would reveal himself to everyone. that he was concerned with our day to day lives. that he would help us when we needed help. that we were all god’s children. that he loved us equally.
i grew up believing that we were created by a loving god.
never in my life was anything more dear to me...more important.
god has a purpose for me.
or at least he did.
where did it go?
epilogue
no doubt, some will judge me harshly for allowing myself to be fooled in such a dramatic way. others will claim that, had i truly had faith, or the right kind of faith, or believed in the right god, i would have been "protected" from this evil. but i am telling this story because i believe that virtually anyone is vulnerable. scientology, children of god, the branch davidians, end time ministries, the unification church, the cornerstone program, pathway drug abuse program, the way international, lifespring, the jim roberts group, synanon, erhardt seminar trainin and fundamentalist latter day saints are a just a few organizations that have coaxed thousands away from their lives, their families, their faiths.
they promise truth and deliver lies.
in my case, it never occurred to me that anyone could be as manipulative as bob. additionally, i was vulnerable precisely because i believed that my faith would protect me from lies.
how did i allow someone to have such total control over my life? why didn't i just leave in the beginning? how could anyone give away so much power?
i will tell that story, on this blog, over the next year. hope you'll stay tuned.
seeking in tongues
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