Jean · Now Starts the Real Abuse

Now Starts the Real Abuse

The aftermath of the divorce/annulment didn't sit well with my mother. She gambled, and lost.

One of the first things she had done within days of arriving in Massachusetts was to hook up with an old boyfriend, whose name prophetically enough was "Dick". Nothing else was working out. She was stuck in Massachusetts, without income (not that she'd had any personal income of any consequence before), in an apartment that would have fit into the upstairs of our former home.

The rage grew in her, and she looked for someplace to vent it.

For over two years, she had kept us hidden from our father, played legal games, tried to deny him visitation by claiming he would harm us. After the annulment, she could no longer legitimately keep our father from seeing us, but she tried anyway. She did everything she could to have the court deny him normal contact and visitation with his kids. The court ordered an independent evaluation. That independent evaulation speaks worlds about her and her conduct:

Evaluation by Court Appointed Psychologist

With a court order that even Jean could not talk her way out of, and with no were else to run and hide, and nothing left to take from my father financially - she still tried to take away the love of his children. As she continued to work the brainwashing on all three of us, I began to argue. I began to point out the lies she was telling, the things I knew were intentionally untrue. I missed my friends, I missed my father, I hated having been forced to stay inside and hide from someone I knew meant me no harm.

Years later, I found a letter from my father to me. My father had dropped it off at my elementary school during the time when he was trying desperately to find us. It included ten dimes, and instructions on were to call him. This, when my mother had been telling all of us that my father didn't care about us, hadn't tried to contact us, could care less if we were dead.

Letter from my Father

< - Previous | Next - >