... so it turns out I am Sick after all...

The happy pills are finally kicking in, at the end of my sessions neither I nor my counselor are balled up in a corner crying uncontrollably, and I haven't seriously threatened to snatch the life out of any one since at least Father's Day. By all accounts I am far more well adjusted then ever before. I feel like I have been rehabilitated, I have turned over a new leaf, I am a new man.

All that being said, this is fair warning of an impending, eye-bulging rant. Will try to throw in a freebie that someone actually appreciates to make up for it, but if you don't wanna risk it, maybe you should leave now. There is one piece of unfinished business, and the day of reckoning has arrived, a proper accounting is now due.

I don't know how anyone found it, but the post that generated the most response from my wild gesticulations on my humble little digital soap box was this one, addressing some "heart attack" serious issues with Child #1. That ain't been resolved. Nothing has changed except that the status quo has become more acceptable as the status quo.

Saturday night of Father's Day weekend, Ex-wife calls to inform me that Child #2, currently 500 miles away at church camp (yes, on Father's Day weekend), just informed a camp counselor that Child #2 had been molested. The previous summer. In my home. By the sibling of New Wife.

The next bit of information was not about how Child #2 was currently doing, or when Child #2 was coming home. The next thing out of Ex-Wife's mouth was, you have lost all credibility with Child #1. Curious statement, given that Child #1 had only talked to me once in the preceding 2 years.

Until now, I have not even revisited that evening in my mind. Beloved, do not ever let me catch you claim that it isn't in you to hurt another human being; because if that is true, you aren't paying attention. Once a person regresses to the animal state, it is far easier to justify evicting them from the realm of living man. Fortunately for me, my brother, being somewhat more level headed than I, saw to it (or at least made me believe he had seen to it) that local law enforcement in-between me and the termination of my planned 6 hour joyride presented enough of a barrier to prevent me from staging what very likely would have been my grand finale.

My brother, by the way, has not talked to me since. There are apologies to be made, other sub-accounts to be settled. Even in my bloodlust stupor, I reached out to him. Nada. Nada y nada.

As part of the statement of Child #2, the allegation was raised that dear old dumbass dad, and New Wife, were too intoxicated to realize what was happening at the time of attack. In fact, a huge portion of the investigative complaints were not about the attack itself, but about how shitty a parent, and a person, Dear ol' Dad is.

In law school, we were taught phrases such as "Texas Two-Step" and "Custody Catch-22". This was the scenario that gave birth to such clever little sayings. Lie, and cop to being a drunk, wreckless parent with patent disregard for the health and safety of his children; or parry with the truth (at least as it applies to Dad and New Wife), and create avenues to punch holes in reasonable doubt in the event that sibling lived long enough to go to trial.

Child Protective Services came to my home. They took pictures of children #3-#5, whom live with us. Asked me if I was a drunkard, or if I skipped merrily through life in wreckless disregard for the welfare of my children. Had I ever been accused of abuse, had I ever been abused (only by ex-wife).

I stopped communicating with close friends in both the DA's office and the Court of Appeals, for fear that I would be accused of using my influence to obstruct the investigation.

Without any court order, Ex-Wife cut me off from communicating with Child #2. When I politely told Ex-Wife to kiss my fat Irish ass, she pressured Child #2 until Child #2 stopped sending emails.

The summer, and the investigation drug on. CPS cleared us of whatever the hell we were accused of. Ultimately, the detective closed the case. She, like I, believe that something did happen. What, how, when are questions not likely to be answered. One of the biggest weaknesses in the case was the focus on Dad's failure as a human being that was rampant throughout the witness statements.

The price paid by everyone involved has been dear. Child #2 lost an innocent part of childhood, I may have lost Child #2 to the same black abyss as Child #1, I damn near lost my marriage, and probably lost my brother. The holidays will be even tougher this year than last. Neither of my older children are likely to be around, and I do not want the in-laws around. Sibling still lives with or near New Wife's parents, stealing from them, lying to them, hiding behind them. The fact that Sibling still draws a breath at all keeps hot fires burning in dark places inside of me.

Over the weekend, nearly on the verge again of likely self-destruction, I discovered an often discounted and overlooked ghost of a mental, emotional and legal concept that may be more prevalent, and more dangerous, then cancer, AIDS, diabetes and cranial/anal inversion combined. Thanks to the Eagles, I have long been suspicious of any "syndrome" that might excuse immature or irresponsible behavior. That was before I married the Wicked Bitch of the West, and before I fell prey to her implementation of Parental Alienation Syndrome, which was first described by Richard Gardner. The more I read about it, the angrier I become. Child #1 demonstrates behavior in every single category, and seems to place somewhere between moderate and severe. Some of the literature indicates that the alienating parent, (you read this as Ex-Wife), is a sociopath, or some equivalent soulless whore. Despite the fact that a significant number of non-custodial parents probably have seen some of this, despite the fact that millions of children are likely being disaffected from one of their parents without justification, Gardner has been treated like a whipping boy by courts and colleagues. I guess he doesn't hold his pinky out at the correct angle while sipping his tea.

The new kid on the block, Richard Warshak is in my neighborhood. Just his introduction to his book Divorce Poison had me crying like a baby.

One of the best new magazines on the rack today, Best Life, did an article a few months ago on the emotional, financial and legal burdens that children and that target parents suffer when the custodial parent goes off the reservation. I pray God that everyone forwards one of these articles, books or papers around (same way that Sibling will be traded around someday), so that no child and no parent ever has to go through this kind of emotional hell again.

Ok, I am done. Held it together fairly well, I don't think I committed too many crimes, nor did I violate many of the tort laws of most states. As a half-ass freebie, and to restore some good karma go check out Ken Sklute, just don't tell him that I sent you. If he digs through the archives enough, I probably have knicked some of his copyrighted material, probably best we not bring that up. Try this one also, I don't think I gave you this before. Brut is giving away tickets to the Sun Bowl, and I think Ron Capps will be the celebrity referee for the bench-clearing brawl scheduled for the third quarter.

Go Home. Hug your children. Warn them about...Formerly Living.