Storm and Stress

it has always been my experience that when it rains it pours. Right now it's pouring.

Jeez, where do I begin?

The biggest thing is work related. I moved to my little mountain town 3 1/2 years ago when I started teaching online. There were no online classes when I came to my college, and somehow I ended up selling the concept to the campus. I worked my butt off for two years. I took genuine risks. I aged, I think.

The problem is I'm only able to live where I do (an hour, at best, from my college) because I drive in just two days a week. I could probably do three days a week, though I go to the airport every other week (twice) so my son can fly down to see his father; I have to drive a half hour to work out, 20 minutes to church...you get the idea. Four hours work commuting a week isn't bad. Six, maybe. But ten? No way.

And what has happened is that while I struck a special deal with my dean and v.p. way back when, more instructors want to go online now, or a few. Our department rotates classes that more than one instructor want to teach, and they're very conservative about adding online sections. The fact is I could lose my online classes and get a five day a week schedule, though it hasn't come to that yet.

And then what? There is an extension campus in our district, not connected to my college but still in the same district, about 25 minutes down the hill. I've asked if I could teach there two days a week, maybe even teach there online. But this whole thing is making me sick. Sure I have options, my family has options, but my son is very happy up here. S and I knew we might move down in a few years when he finishes high school, but I never figured I'd lose my online classes. Again, it hasn't happened yet, and I've emailed the new dean, who is a personal friend of mine (both he and the new v.p. were at my birthday dinner) to see what I can do. But right now, it's triggering me pretty bad. Guilt over (maybe) having to put Mikey in another high school, and anger, lots of it: could all the work I put into developing online at my school really be set aside? That's how it feels to me, even if that's not true. I'm simply not ready to sell my house and move down. The central valley is hot, smokey, and if I hadn't gotten to move up here I might have gone to another college altogether years ago.

Whatever, I feel scared, sick, even powerless. And as I said, angry, though it's mostly sitting under depression. I worked out at the gym today which is very good for me (scooter will remember that from way back).

***

The other thunderhead in my life: talking to Estella's old friend...man. Did I learn some painful things, though things I'm very glad to know. I want to share those here. Maybe I'll have to let go of trying to do this narrative style and just spit it out. Okay, how does one spell loogie?

My wife left me after 3 1/2 years of very desparate marriage. Things were bad for us right from the start. I was heavily depressed during the years we were together (early 90's). And I was seeing a therapist named Robert (that's his real first name; it's onlya first name, and if he wants a psuedonym, he can come to my house and ask nicely). After I'd been going to him for a couple years, E wanted to see him too. And I agreed.

I was scared because my high school teacher/mentor, the guy who got me into creative writing and poetry, ended up hitting on my high school girlfriend (he was 38). Terry was his name. It confused her enough she broke up with me over it. And then it confused me so much when she wanted to get back together I said no. Years later, I started seeing a therapist named Keith. E was seeing him too. And we had to quit seeing him because he became sexually involved with a client and Matt H. found out about it and probably a dozen Bethany people were suddenly bereft of help. That's how I found Robert; he worked for the same guy Keith did.

But to save my marriage, and for no other reason, I agreed to let her begin seeing him. I asked him if he was married, and he said, yes, happily, he didn't think he'd ever get a divorce. I think I asked him if he 'believed' in divorce; E and I were hanging by such a drastic thread.

And as soon as she started things got even worse. She clearly transferred to him; she brought home a pillow from his office, she took pictures of him and brought them home. But hey, Robert bragged constantly about how he had done seven years of therapy himself, how he was healthier than other therapists. I was too sick to see how sick he really was. Oh, and of course he was a Christian, working in a Christian office.

vengeance is mine says the LORD, I will repay

And then after about seven months of E seeing Robert, she left a note on the bathroom mirror when I came home from work: I'm going to live some place else, don't call me or try to contact me, something like that. It's sad and ironic, because later I found the draft of that note in the back seat of her car; it originally said 'I promise to come back.' That had been crossed out I think. In any event, that line wasn't on my note.

And we were supposed to work it out, but we never did. She wouldn't talk to me, let me know where she was living, or see a therapist or pastor together with me. I tried, via Brent and Paul K. When I was laid off from my crappy electrical job (the worst job I ever had) she refused to help me financially. I had to let our apartment go; she came and took all her stuff. She took the fridge and the bed, though she was supposed to leave the fridge. Stuff like that. And she told everyone I was abusive; at least that she was afraid of me, afraid I was going to beat her up or assault her or something. But as Kathryn T. said later; 'we lived right next to you Troy, those walls were thin; the things she accused you of were completely untrue.' They were gang. I had lots of anger, and Robert had encouraged me to hit things to release it; things like the arm of the couch, or a punching bag I kept in the garage. But I never laid a finger on E or even thought about it.

But I need to hurry this along. After nearly a year of no contact, and E filing for legal separation (or at least serving me the papers; apparently she never followed through but I didn't know that) Robert suggested I begin dating. I really resisted, but I was very depressed, and so I went out with one wacky girl I met at church; my plan was just to date casually, several girls. I mean I was still legally married though I didn't know where my wife lived and hadn't spoken to her in months. He suggested I go out with this girl again. And then, lo and behold, he began prodding me to have sex with this woman. And I did. Though the first time I couldn't even do it I felt so guilty and confused, and of course still had feelings for E. But I took a lover, and again at Robert's suggestion, asked for a divorce; he said still being married would muck up things with this other woman.

I suppose that makes sense...in hell. Why not encourage me to confront E with an ultimatum? I had very ambivalent feelings about all of this, and I was still struggling with suicidal feelings. Finally E did file. There's so much more to this story but I'll save it for later. I broke up with my crazy girlfriend after 8 months because she wanted to do other guys, basically. Before my divorce was final I sent E a letter asking if we could wait and try to work it out, though I felt so guilty over my girlfriend. Finally, two days before Christmas and more than two years after she walked out, my divorce was final.

And oh, how guilty I felt. I left my church. I don't know what I did. And then Robert told me he had 'befriended' E, that he thought I should see another therapist, that he had 'prayed about it.' I see.

It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.

I figured he was still married. But it wasn't long after that that someone called me and told me the truth: E and Robert were dating. This was just months after she stopped seeing him as a client, and weeks, really, after I found another therapist.

Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.

Now you see. And the worst part of it was that I couldn't help but blame myself. If E was okay enough for super-Robert, mister ultra-healthy, to date, then I really must have been the crazy one all along. I assumed, for a long time, that they went off to have a happy life together, while I put all the work I could into healing myself and surviving what was really a very brutal betrayal.

And years have gone by. A decade now, almost to the day, since I found out about Robert and E. I have had no new information, other than that her name appeared on a book he wrote.

Until I talked to her old friend two nights ago.

And now more comes out: Robert stayed at her house, while she was still a client, not long after our separation; he told her that 'when we're eighty years old and our spouses are dead, we can be together;' he went camping, to the beach, to the movies, with her and with other women who were seeing him as clients, including this woman I spoke with, who feels terrible now that she couldn't see how sick all this was then. Estella was obsessed with Robert, called him all the time. Oh, and once E told this woman that Robert hugged her at the end of a therapy session and E freaked out because she felt his erection; his take on that: 'I hug old lady clients and sometimes I get an erection. It's normal.' I see. Look guys, this is an adult audience: and you know, you can't feel a guy like that when he's hugging you unless he wants you to feel him. And his explanation? 'This is normal, natural.' How disgusting is that?

Predator. Tool of Satan. Beast.

I think I can hear scooter, who was around for all of this and met Robert but could not have known these things, screaming at his monitor all the way from my house.

In short, he worked her, very subtly according to her friend, unstable as E was. And this was before the divorce, while she was still a client, before my lover even, or some of it. And he's still in practice; I saw his ad in a large psych magazine not long ago; it was sitting on the counter in my current therapist's office.

I've seen only women counselors since then.

On one hand, I feel better, truly: Robert was and is sicker than I ever believed; so sick and narcisistic and deluded that even when E told him she was telling this woman all this stuff, he didn't care. Which means I was not crazy or awful or abusive or evil. I was set up and victimized.

On the other hand, this is a lot of burrito to have on one plate at one time.

What does one do with a man like that? Put hope in the judgement of God, that's what. Robert knew about Terry and Keith and he still did something to me worse than either of them; he knew E had been molested and he walked right in and took his place in line. The only bright spot is that I got out of my marriage to E, which was terrible. And he got her, which is some justice. But I feel for her, also.

And if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a large millstone tied around his neck.

At the final day, I believe Jesus will justify the orphans, and the oppressed, and those who have been victimized. And if you think he was pissed in the temple....

Arise, O LORD ! Deliver me, O my God! Strike all my enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked.

I have placed faith in God's mercy, but also, in my spiritual weakness, his justice. Selah.

***

I really needed to cry, and I've been crying as I wrote much of this. Good for me. I feel better. The work thing will work out somehow. I'll still have my job. And there would be plusses to moving closer, I can't deny that. Still...it wasn't in the game plan yet. I'll let you know what I find out.

Thank you so much for being there; this blog truly has been a gift from Jesus.

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