Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

Paul (photo used in obituary)

30 years of Horror, Shame and Pain - page 1: 
My son was molested when he was eleven years old by a man who was the head of the Mohegan Counsel of boy scouts in Massachusetts. This man was arrested because of statements from members of the troupe. My son was not a member but led police to this abuse. He could not admit to his own abuse but only to the knowledge of others. He was given drugs and brainwashed against his family. His abusers would tell him that we were trying to keep him a prisoner by imposing curfews. (Remember, he was only 11.) Those abusers, the Boy Scout leader, and his roommate were convicted of child abuse.

That was really bad enough, but now the story gets even worse.

Paul, my son, was a very good student until this happened. He tried to attend school but he told me that he couldn't just sit there and pretend he was the same as everyone else. He began to skip school. I was a teacher in the district and my superintendent asked me if I had relatives out of state who could take my son. He stated that parents wouldn't think I could handle their kids if my own kid wouldn't go to school. I replied that a parent would never believe I would help their child if I were to give up on my own. (I taught at-risk students in special education at a local high school).

I looked at all the out of district schools approved by the DOE (Department of Education) but they were all for young perpetrators. There was nothing for the victims. Paul would run away and the detectives would tell us that they would not actively look for him but if he was spotted walking down the street they would pick him up. Paul started to start thinking clearer but still could not go to school. He was being tutored until he decided to try going to a community college. He was 15.

He was doing well for a while. He would study really hard with his grandfather and he got a 90 on his first history exam. I was so proud of him.

This was short-lived by his sudden reluctance to return to the college. He wanted me to purchase him a motorcycle but I said no. He was too young. He began being defiant, having things I hadn't bought and one of those things was a motorcycle.

One day a man called the house looking for Paul. I asked what he wanted and he told me that he was a psychologist who saw Paul in a club. He said because Paul appeared so young he approach him and asked what he was doing in the club. He stated that after hearing Paul's story, he wanted to help him. That at 16, he should be in school and not out at clubs. I corrected him by telling him Paul was only 15. I was so glad that a psychologist wanted to help Paul that I explained to him all the things I had tried. I explained that Paul was smoking Pot, driving without a license. I told him that he somehow got a motorcycle. The psychologist told me, "Oh yes, I bought it for him." I could not believe my ears. I asked why he didn't think it important to ask his parent about such a purchase. I never got a good answer.

Yes, you guessed it. The "good" doctor, head of forensic psychology at a nearby psychiatric hospital was molesting Paul and supplying him with drugs (cocaine).

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 2

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

Horror, Shame and Pain - page 2: 
I hold on to a lot of guilt because I was a young, very unsettled mother. Within the next eight years I had another broken marriage and 4 additional children. I don't know what I was thinking back then.

I remember being in the mall with Paul and he lost sight of me. I still had him but he got confused with all the people. I could see his little lip begin to quiver. I held him tight and said, "It's okay, Mommie's here." These are the thoughts that I have when I think about him. I was supposed to protect him. Why couldn't I protect my baby. I didn't just fail him once, I failed him twice.

Paul had many friends and was an avid pitcher in his little league and later Pop Warner league. He took art lessons, and I still have a picture of two horses in a field, one the mother and the other her colt drawn in watercolor.

I lived in a development, went to school, worked, was a den mother for my boys' Cub Scouts and sat on the steps with the other mothers to watch our children play "Pickle" in the courtyard. I remember taking a neighbor's child to the market with us. She couldn't believe that I would let the kids have a cart of their own to fill with their own food choices. She was equally amazed when I would leave the second cart and only check out with the one I filled. Paul caught onto me pretty quickly. He was so smart and kind. It's important to know that he would always high-five the handicapped children who watched his games. He had no way of knowing at that time that he would become handicapped later in his life.

From Darlene: Lois, you'll note I have merged all your pages about Paul. To view any comments, just click onto the comments link below each of your individual posts. I'll post page 3 tomorrow.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 11

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

Paul and me, weeks before he died

Paul didn't die from this horrific attempt. For some reason God didn't think he was quite ready. He went from a psych ward to a mental institution. He was put in with men who were hugging walls and heavily medicated. He met a woman he knew from the past. She took him in.

He did not come back to my house because I fell apart after the last episode. I was not able to keep focused at work and resigned from my position. There were issues at work that were not pleasant too. I don't want to lay all my problems on Paul.

Through yet another mental health patient, he found an apartment and rented it on his own. He did OK for a while. He actually started a website called "Head over Wheels". It was a dating or friendship service for the handicapped for handicapped. Paul put his profile up and listed his disabilities, including HIV.

I don't know how to find the site now that it isn't up and running. I don't know how to locate the person who helped with the development.

I just want to add, that the Boston lawyer who had taken Paul's case helped him with the legal aspect of the website. Thank you Mike, should you ever see this blog.

Paul was not safe in this apartment because he could not get in or out without help.

I started another position and could only help evenings and weekends. I was taking antidepressants by this time.

Paul's apartment was also rat infested, and I needed to get him out of there. His health case manager for his insurance knew of a place in Boston. He would have his own apartment but there was a large parlor with a TV, etc. and someone on duty in the lobby. It was an hours drive from me. I visited every weekend and sometimes during the week.

Paul began to fall a lot. He would refuse to go to the hospital. He was becoming too needy for the type of housing he was in. The next time he fell, he was taken to the Shattak hospital. While there he became hostile, so he was placed on a locked ward.

Paul did not like to mingle and felt better being alone. He had many many DVDs and a small TV that had a DVD player built in. I brought it to the hospital. His movies were being taken a few at a time. The social worker on the ward told me that he was going to make Paul get out of bed. Paul was complaining that his side and stomach was hurting. This didn't seem to matter. Paul was becoming paranoid and he was hallucinating. I told him that he had an infection somewhere. The nurse told me that Paul was healthy and had nothing wrong with him. He could live 20 and more years.

Paul came home for Thanksgiving. He said he would never go back there. I told him he had to until we could find another place. His sister drove him back. When she went from the driver's door to the back where Paul would exit, Paul had broken a glass bottle and stared to make slits on his throat. His sister was hysterical and called a guard for help. Paul threatened to hurt himself more if they tried to get him to go back. He was taken to Mass. General.

Paul was acting up on one ward, making claims about the nurses (remember, he was hallucinating). They moved him to another ward where he had a wonderful nurse, Billy Jo. We were able to take Paul down to the cafe and hospital store when we visited.

One day when my husband went to take him out, something burst and he oozed from his side. The family was called together a few days later. We were told that the infection had eaten away bone in his femur and pelvis. He was not expected to recover.

Paul would call the police and tell them that the hospital was under attack by demons. He would yell out "Put on your black sun glasses and do it right." He told me he had to yell it in intervals of 15 times. He said that everyone needed to wear them or the demons would get them. He told me that the demons had gotten his uncle and his cousin. He needed me to go and set them free. (Paul had unresolved issues with these two relatives.) He was very frightened and would call me in the middle of the night. One night I told him that if it were me I would look the demons right in the eyes and tell them that they are wasting their time. That you have made your peace with Jesus. I never heard about the demons again. However, now he said he was waiting for the train to come and take him to American Idol. The doctor called the family together again and told us that we had some options. The medication was not working. Paul would not get better. He said we could continue treating him and he would be having his hallucinations or we could do palliative care. This meant that Paul would not have any more pain and he would be able to be normal until the end. I agreed to the palliative care. I rally never thought that Paul would die because we had had so many times when we had been told this and he didn't.

He was Paul again. The Paul before the abuse, before the drugs. He was my son, my wonderful, wonderful son. Before he died, he told us not to worry about him; that he would be fine. The picture I put up is me and Paul weeks before he died. I would like to write some other blogs of random things that I remember. There was so much more to Paul's story. Thank you. Having this forum for me and others who so desperately need it.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 12

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

There are so many little things that I hear Paul saying from the past. It wasn't until after his death that I finally understood some of these things:

"I shouldn't be crying over a stupid gerbil." Paul was walking around and around our kitchen table. Each time he made a circle he went a little faster. Tears were streaming down his face. I told him that it was perfectly normal to cry over the death of a pet.

I guess his tears were about "ambitious" his gerbil. I think too that he had a lot of tears he was not getting out.

"How do you think it feels to have someone tell you to go wash your a-- so I can f--- you?" Paul just came out with these statements as we drove places. I told him that I imagined it must have felt awful. I always tried to tell him how much I love him and how he should talk to someone. I guess he was trying to talk to me. I didn't get it.

"Mommie, listen to the words." I would listen and say things like, yes I like the song. He would say, "No, really listen" I would listen again. He would become agitated and say, "Never mind, you just don't get it. It's OK."

Hello Lois, where were you! He needed to see that these words related to him and how he was feeling. Why did he have to die before you heard him.

I think one of the songs was "Behind Blue Eyes". It talks about being sad eyes and about wanting revenge.

"Why don't you ever take my side?" Everyone else accused me of only taking his side. I didn't know how he couldn't see that I was always on his side.

"I need to do drugs just to feel normal." He said he couldn't feel normal now without the drugs. He said he didn't feel normal straight or high.

"Mostly I do drugs so I don't remember." You never saw Paul a little high. He would do drugs until he was almost in a coma. He overdosed so many times and was put on life support. He would be very angry when he woke up. He said we should have let him die.
"My little brother has a house and is raising his kids. That's what I wanted. I should have been his role model, not the other way around." Paul loved his brother and was happy for him. He just wished he had things too.

"It should have been just me and David. I love the girls but it would have been easier." Yes, but three wonderful women would not be here now.

"You now, Justin is the best thing in my life." He said this often about his oldest son. Justin would have a book of his own to write with two dysfunctional families to grow up in. I wonder how he turned out so good some times. I love him dearly.

"You love me more than the other kids, don't you? He desperately needed to hear me say yes. I said that I loved all my children the same. I know he needed to hear a yes but I could not trust that he wouldn't say it to the other kids when he was angry.

"I'm so glad that Jill saved my kids from going to foster care. I love her so much." And in the next breath, "Jill stole my kids." He wanted so badly to raise his children, but the drugs kept getting in the way.

"It's OK mom, I'll take the blame. I'm already the black sheep in the family. I can handle it. E--- won't be able to." After an episode with a family member when my father threw my sister's son out of the house. Usually it was Paul.

Paul was the scapegoat for sure. He was already damaged so why bother letting anyone else take responsibility for their own behaviors.

So many times I missed my chance to help him emotionally. I always assumed he knew I loved him.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 3

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

I keep jumping around. I hope this will at least help me to get all the things out that need to be said. My family support was a blessing. Paul's grandfather was trying to help. When Paul had first started to run away, my father and I followed leads to try to find him. We called the George listed on the note we had found (see page 1 below). He said he didn't know a Mark or a Paul. We kept pushing and, "Oh yes, now I remember. Mark came to visit and he did have a boy named Paul with him." He's wasn't there but he said we might want to try another man's house who was a known child molester named Ray. They all know one another and will gladly give the other one up.

My father and brother-in-law and neighbor went to the new address. An older lady answered the door. "Oh my Ray is such a wonderful man. He helps young kids. He even lets them stay here with him until they find a place." She was as naive as I was. She thought her son was great.

When Ray arrived home he gave them the name of yet another molester. My brave trio went to the next address. They found Paul in a parked car between the boy Mark and a Richard. They said Paul wasn't leaving. My brother-in-law walked toward the car. They let Paul out. Paul told us that he was more afraid of them than he would ever be of the police or his family. He said they made him watch the rape of a boy and that they had stolen guns from a local store. This was prior to gun control laws.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 4

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

Horror, Shame and Pain: 
When the vice squad started to question my son he told all about how Mark had brought him to George's house. (Mark was a former victim and present Scout for young kids.) George put something in his soda and Paul was raped. He said his butt was burning. Paul did not tell anyone because they threatened to hurt me and his siblings. Paul believed they would because they had burst into another kid's house and his mother couldn't stop them. They told him stories that frightened him and also gave him no faith in anyone else being able to help.

Paul started to get out of control.

One night I had gone out with a friend and I overheard a man at another table talk about a place in Florida that he had taken his son to that got him straight, and now his son was in the air force doing well. Knowing that Paul was using pot, I went to this table and told the man that I had overheard what he was saying. I asked him about the program and he called the next day. Prior to this I had called every program around my area. There were programs for adults over 16 and few for kids. Paul was 13 at this time.

I called the Florida program and spoke to the woman in charge. She said if my child was an addict or just tried pot once it didn't matter. They made no claims of knowing why the program worked for some and not for others. They said to bring Paul down but he would have to sign himself in and that both parents had to agree. I doubted Paul would. I was told to lie to him and say he was looking at a private school and that even if he didn't like it we would at least be near Disney. I started down the next day with the man I met from the club, his daughter and Paul.

The program, Straight Inc., took no federal funds. This allowed them to not have to follow guidelines that interfered with success. It was peer pressure in reverse.

Once there, kids in the higher phases of the program pressured Paul to sign himself in. They took no excuses. It was a level system and you had to work your way up. Level one: someone literally would walk you everywhere holding onto your belt. You slept at an upper level student's approved home. They needed time to determine if your family was the right environment for you to be in during treatment. Level two: you were home but could not attend school and parents could not make any stops when driving their child to or from the program. They were not allowed to have any visitors in the house. Special locks were put on doors and window. Level three: you could go to school (arrangements had been made with the local district), the behavior was monitored, homework completed at the program, and program routine continued after school hours. Level four: you could start to go into a store with your parents or special family events (with permission) and you could start taking in newcomers to your home.

Being a total family program, parents had to attend Friday meetings. It was at these meetings that you and the child alike found out if they had earned the next level of program. Because we were in Massachusetts, my father relocated to Florida. I was not yet tenured and had my other children at home. I will never forget my father's selfless act and unconditional love for family.

Paul made it through level four. He then ran away again.
I found out much later that Paul could never bring himself to discuss his own abuse and when the subject became too painful, he would run. This pattern continued for years.

He hitched his way back to Massachusetts.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 5

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

Horror, Shame and Pain: 
When Paul returned to Massachusetts I was so happy to see him, although I was not happy that he left his grandfather in Florida. He hitched his way back at age thirteen, putting himself in danger. Luckily nothing happened.

I eluded to the fact that he could not handle school in an earlier page. I called the head of the Straight program. She told me frankly that Paul would either apply what he learned, spend his time in jail or die. This is when Dr P entered the scene. I called the Social Service agency for my area and asked for help. They said that I had to sign over custody of Paul to get any help. After talking to the director at length, she told me that no one would make the efforts for my child as much as I was doing for him already. She advised against help. Kids ran away from foster homes and no one looks for them at Paul's age. Paul was getting in trouble for driving violations, destruction of property (my house) and various other infractions. I met Dr P face to face for the first time at a court hearing. He introduced himself to the court as an old friend of the family who was a forensic psychologist who was used by the state as an expert witness. He said he was working with Paul to try to help. I didn't know what to do or say. He was lying.

Paul continued to run, and I knew if I really needed him I could find him through Dr P. I didn't let on to the doctor that I knew he was abusing Paul because then I would not have been able to find Paul.

One time my dad had a heart attack. Paul and he were very close. I called Dr P to ask if he knew where Paul was. He said he did not know. I asked that if he should hear from him to tell him to call me about his grandfather. I got a call from Paul within 5 minutes.

As time went on, Dr P became less and less interested in Paul. He was getting too old. The problem was that Paul was addicted to cocaine initially used for plying him into submission and then supplied to him by the doctor.

Paul began to get frantic. Paul could not rid himself of the drugs. I learned from him later that he could not be straight because he did not want to remember the pain. Paul never just got high. He got oblivious to the world. He went from cocaine to heroine. He later told me that coming down from coke was a fast jar to your system while heroine let you down slowly. Paul would fall asleep in the middle of a bite of food. So often I worried about him choking or death from the myriad of overdoses he endured.

My other kids were resenting him and I was feeling torn.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 6

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

It is no wonder that my other children were resenting Paul. I was always out trying to find him or going to school or working a second job. Paul would steal his siblings' things to sell for drug money. I tried to keep replacing those things. I remember going down the cellar to my freezer to get some meat for supper. No meat. I had 3 months of meat that I had purchased from a meat company. Well, I had to re-buy the meat a little each day using a credit card. Similar things occurred, like my sewing machine cabinet was empty the next time I had gone to use it. My other son's golf clubs were missing and numerous bikes, etc. My oldest daughter had a love-hate relationship with Paul. She would wake up at night hoping he had come home when he had been on the streets, but when he got home, she would be angry about the things he had done.

We were a very loving family, although dysfunctional. We would all play board games, eat homemade popcorn and drink lemonade in the evenings. We did have a lot of together time in that way.

One night Paul got arrested for running out on a check at a restaurant in Boston. When the jail called so I could bail him out, I said no. He can spend the night. I thought it might teach him a lesson. A few hours later a pastor from the jail had driven Paul home. He said Paul would not have made it through the night with his light hair and blue eyes without being attacked.

The other kids could see what this was doing to me and fought with Paul each time he was home. This was killing me inside because I needed to have all my family together. I could not just give up on Paul, yet I knew my other children were hurting. They didn't know the details of Paul's abuse and didn't understand that he was using his addiction to cover his memories and pain. It wasn't until much later when my daughter was upset with Paul that she was telling me that she hated him for hurting me. I replied that it hurt me more to see them hurt each other. Of course Paul knew what buttons to push.

It would have been better for Paul (I believe) if he was not smart. He had a 127 IQ. He realized what he was doing to his life. He didn't want to but he couldn't stop. In later years he saw his younger brother with a wife, three children, a dog, and a house. Something he always wished he had been able to have.

When he was 18 he met a woman with whom he had a child. They were both doing coke and she also did alcohol. Paul was happy with the prospect of becoming a father. He got a job in a factory where he worked directly with fiberglass. There were no laws to protect people in the workplace at that time. It didn't matter. He would work long hours, racking up a lot of overtime. He was stopping the drugs (at least cutting way back). The woman was going to a GoGo Girls concert one night. Paul begged her not to go because he knew she would be in a placed filled with pot smoke and he worried about the baby. She wasn't ready to quit and Paul needed to get her money. The job didn't last because Paul got arrested for selling fake drugs outside of a concert. He went to jail and she promptly found herself a dealer who she later married. The child was a wonderful baby boy, deeply loved by everyone on both sides of his family. I am thankful that his stepfather was good to him and showed him love. The loss of being able to raise his child was a massive blow to Paul. Not being able to handle any of his own needs, he got heavier and heavier into drugs.

Many times I would get a call from him. He was not coherent and I feared the worse. He was calling from South Station in Boston. I went to pick him up, literally, from the ground and put him into the back seat of my car. I would drive home, take a shower and go to work.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 7

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

Horror, Shame and Pain: 
I am going to jump again because it is bothering me that Paul was never validated. I had told everyone: cops, lawyers, probation officers, etc. about the good Dr and what was happening to my son. No one cared. They thought I was just looking to blame someone. What they didn't seem to care about was that other kids were now getting abused.

I went to Governor King with my concern. He sent me to the Attorney General's office where a state police officer working there helped to search for help. He called me back stating that he could not find any place.

I went to see a psychologist because I had to be the strong one (I assumed) so I had no one to talk to. When I told him that it involved another psychologist, he made me sign to allow anything I said to be used should this doctor see the need to report Dr P. This was helpful, but this doctor thought I should be on anti-depressants. I said no. I was deathly afraid of drugs because of what Paul was going through. (Now I wish I had taken them.)

My dad and Paul went to the licensing board of overseers for psychologists. They promised to look into things. Months went by. They finally said that they left a card in a witness's door but never heard from him. That was the extent of their investigation.

Finally Paul was talking with a young lawyer, and he wanted to take his case. We first tried to get the Assistant District Attorney to arrest Dr P. These were her responses for not arresting him: Paul had already been molested by the Boy Scout leaders so how much harm could this guy have caused. (I guess it's OK to molest a child as long as they have already been molested.) It only happened a few times before turning 16, he was an addict and would be an unreliable witness. (Wow, guess who got him this way). She also said that she thought the relationship with Dr P was consensual. It was not, but even if it had been, it doesn't excuse the time when Paul was underage.

Paul was in a catch 22. More about this can be read in the Boston Globe, Thursday, May 19, 1994. My last name was Goyette at the time.

The young lawyer that Paul had looking into his case hooked up with a Boston lawyer and they researched his case. In less than two weeks they had enough evidence and said that they would go forward with a civil trial. We went forward. Dr P decided to settle partway through Paul's testimony. The kicker is that he then filed bankruptcy, and Paul received a very small amount, and the wonderful men who worked so hard for Paul may as well have been working for nothing.

The reason I wrote about this today is because this Assistant District Attorney who later became the District Attorney is now running for (higher political office). I believe she was not going to trial with Dr P because he was the one who determined if people were competent to stand trial. When we filed our suit, many people came out of the woodwork. Many of whom were patients and who alleged that they either had to comply with Dr P's desires or he would go against them in court. I am sure she was trying to keep that can of worms shut. Who cares if other children were being abused.

I Googled Dr P awhile back. Guess what he was doing? He was holding workshops on abused children!!

We need to get the politics out of government. I know, what a crazy thought.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 8

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

When all of this first started and I found out about the Boy Scout leaders, I wrote this poem. Although primitive in my poetry skills, it helped me to write it.

My Life, my joy
My child in need
Destroyed and hurt
By others greed

Skateboards and gigs
all lay to rest
Now reefers, pills
And booze his quest

His family's love
Is tested and used
With his altered mind
He is very amused

His highs and lows
Are always extremes
When will he ever
Remember his dreams

I love him and miss him
I wish he could see
Frustration and heartache
are all that can be

Treatment may help him
I just don't know
Experts all tell me
He must want to go

I cannot allow
His lies and abuse
Siblings would suffer
I'd tighten his noose

He must reach bottom
And want to get well
Then we can help him
Get out of this hell

I can't seem to be
Happy anymore
I love him so much
He's all I live for

Now all our lives
Are affected by him
I have to let go
Or no one can win

I hate and I hurt
Oh, my son in need
Destroyed by pushers
And men filled with greed

This was written early on. I wasn't connecting the abuse to his drug use at this time. I don't condone his behavior because poor behavior cannot be accepted no matter the cause. However, I do understand why parents enable their kids. I did many times. Some holidays, I actually brought him to get drugs because I knew no one would have a good day if he was drug-sick. It wasn't right but I did it.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 9

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

I would like to bring you to the time when Paul met Julie. This is not to hurt Julie should she read this. She has been in recovery for about 5 years and is now doing well.

My friend from high school had lived in Vermont for many years. One day I received a caller saying "Guess who's back?" It was my friend. I was very happy to hear from her. After she was here awhile, her daughter moved down to be with her. She was around Paul's age. She was a troubled girl and Elaine had the same kind of problems that I was having with Paul. I learned later that she had claimed abuse by Elaine's live-in boyfriend, but Elaine did not believe her. I believe when in doubt, side with the child. I did however experience firsthand how her mother may have been torn. We were in the waiting room in a hospital when out of nowhere she went up to a guard and told him that my husband threatened to kill her. He would never allow himself in a place where he was alone with her after that.

Paul and Julie became fast friends and then Paul got arrested again. Before coming home he learned that he had contacted the HIV virus. In jail, they shared dirty needles. Of course, I couldn't let that one go by. I called the jail and asked who was bringing in the drugs. They said that they do body searches after each visit but that sometimes the drugs slip by. I said yes but then how do the needles get by the search. A guard was later arrested for bringing in drugs. I'm sure it wasn't the first time and won't be the last time.

Paul and Julie got married. They claimed to have gotten instructions from a doctor on safe sex.

During their marriage, Paul was pursuing the Dr's civil case. If Paul did not do what she wanted she threatened to jeopardize his case. She couldn't have, but the threats angered Paul. One time Paul called and asked me to go get him. He did this often. This time Julie had threatened to hit herself over the head with a pan and then call the police and say Paul did it. (Many men who have been in jail are bullied like this, according to the police.) They had a very chaotic marriage. Paul divorced her several years later. The problem is they never separated. I am sure that Paul was no angel and contributed to the problems. Paul and Julie remained together.

One day Paul called me to come and see him. He met me at the car. He asked me to wait there, that he just had to go inside for a minute. Within seconds he was standing on the ledge on top of the five-storey building. He yelled down, "You were with me when I was born and I want you with me when I die."

I started screaming and begged him not to jump. He kept saying that he could not live like this anymore. Luckily a woman saw him from her window and called the police. Paul was brought to court. The judge wasn't going to get to him that day, and I begged him to not wait. Paul needed help right then. He was going to place Paul for a psychiatric evaluation. The problem was, he was going to send him to the same hospital that Dr. P used to work at. Paul was beside himself. He was afraid that Dr. P might still have friends there. (He didn't, because the person who brought him the summons said that all the staff started clapping when he was served.)

The judge sent Paul to the Worcester Hospital instead. It was the best thing that could have happened. After thirty days he was taken back to court. The judge let him go, providing he went into a drug treatment program by six o'clock that night. The program was located in Springfield. My husband and I drove him there. He was there for a few weeks and was waiting for a slot at a halfway house in Worcester. He was sent to a holding house to wait. There he met a friend, Gene. This turned out to be the only real friend Paul had in his adult life. He, they were both serious about their sobriety. Paul was then transferred to Crosier House. Paul was happy for the first time in years. I heard him laugh and talk. I was so happy. Even better, he was happy.

Then came the letter from Julie. She was expecting twins. He went out on a weekend pass and when he returned they found what they told me was the smallest trace of a drug. They were not sure if they were going to make him leave. Finally the decision was to have him leave.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Cost My Son Everything Page 10

by Lois D
(Massachusetts, USA)

One day I went to pick up Paul and bring him to an appointment. He asked me to stop at a friend's house so he could get a jacket he left there. He and his friend got into an argument and Paul was pushed toward the railing. The railing was not in code, meaning that it was lower than it should have been. Paul was beginning to fall backwards. He grabbed onto his "friend" to try and recover from the fall. He went over and so did the friend. They were on the fifth floor and Paul ended up on the second floor landing. His friend landed on the back of Paul's neck. Paul was paralyzed and remained so until he died about 7 years later.

This happened in December of 1999. On January 30th, a month later, his twins were born. The rehab let him come for one hour while Julie had a c-section. I had to go in with him because he was weak, in a waist to head cast. They didn't want to have to tend to him and Julie too.

First came Jessica Emily, an absolutely beautiful baby (no bias!) and Paul Joseph Jr. (Joseph) equally as beautiful.

Paul had to come home to my house after his stay in rehab because their apartment had been on the 2nd floor. Julie and the baby went to a shelter.

Paul was very depressed and would go days without allowing anyone to tend to him. At one point he laid in his soil for over a day and the whole house started to stink. I went in and told him that I wanted to help him but that he could not just let himself stay like this. I told him that I would call the police and have him sectioned into a hospital if he did not let me help. I know he felt humiliated. But I didn't want him to get bedsores. After a while Julie and the babies moved in. This made Paul a little happier. He would ride the babies on his lap, (buckled in). They loved it.

With Julie in the house, things got unbearable. She was using Paul's medication. They were smoking in their room and burning the floors when they would drop the cigarettes while high. I was worried about the house being set on fire and about the babies. Paul could not take care of them and Julie didn't. I would come home from work and the babies would be in their crib or in their swings with several bottles around them. They were simply thrown bottles and left in one place all day.

Julie and Paul denied that they were neglecting the children. Julie would tell me that I was the cause of all Paul's problems. I already felt guilty so it stung like a knife. The verbal abuse given to me and the neglect of the babies was too much to take. Welfare was called. They agreed that the children were neglected all day. They had several visits and confirmed our thoughts. The children were to be taken. Asked where the babies would go, the worker told us that they would be placed in foster care. No way. My daughter Jill took guardianship of the children. Julie was removed from my home.

Paul became even more depressed. He was taking his medication inappropriately. He overdosed at least 5 times and each time was put on a ventilator and sent to the psyche ward to stabilize. One day I was visiting. They had him so drugged that he looked like he did when he was so high. He had his face in his supper. The nurse came over to him and told me they were discharging him. What! He couldn't even pick his head up. I refused to take him home. They threatened to drop him off at a shelter. I told them that if they did the reporters would be there to take pictures. He was there for a few more weeks. He overdosed again. They called someone to evaluate him. It was Linda, the lady in charge. She had the doctor give Paul a hit of the meds that wake him, asked him if he was going to hurt himself again and sent him home. A day later Paul had watched the movie "The Last Samurai". That night he called me into his room and told me how awful he felt and that he just didn't want to live. He told me how much he loved me and said goodnight. I was walking down the hall toward the kitchen when I stopped in my tracks. He was too calm. I went back into his room. As I did, he was putting a knife into his stomach like a samurai soldier. I screamed, called 911 and met Paul at the hospital.


Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.