Suicide is painless, I wish

Tuesday, July 9, 2013 Posted by

Yesterday marked the fifth anniversary of the liar from D.C.’s successful campaign to destroy not only her but our family. I understand you and the gang are doing well and probably hardly ever think about us or your failure to thwart the depredations of that asshole, what did you call him, the Bulldog from D.C., who systematically lied about her and bullied you and the others into firing her.

It’s amazing to me how a big shot professor from one of the most prestigious law schools in America, a man who claims to have educated America’s political elite and his former student, who has gone on to become a supreme court justice in  a mid-western state, so utterly failed to prevent an such a small injustice. So much for your liberal street cred. You and she are frauds.

My phone has been disconnected all weekend owing to a lack of funds. I can’t even avail myself of the anodyne of TV because my Netflix account has been suspended, never mind how we’re going to pay for our childrens’ college or keep our house.

She’s as miserable as can be. You and the rest of your bunch should have killed her outright because as sure as you’re sleeping well tonight, you did it in slow motion five years ago.  All we have left is the desiccating husk of my old life and the impotent wish to not wake up tomorrow morning.

Fuck you and the motherfucker from D.C..

Who Gives a Shit

Sunday, May 12, 2013 Posted by

To anyone who visits. The thing that amazes me that is that you bear witness to the suffering and degradation, albeit unintentionally and just flat out don’t give a shit. Do you people have ANY idea how much suffering that fat fuck from Chevy Chase caused? And the level of depravity shown by ivory tower Steve and his douche bag colleagues. Everything we worked a life time for is slipping away and NOBODY, not one person who has visited here has had enough compassion to leave a conciliatory comment.

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Friday, May 25, 2012 Posted by

It’s hard to say where we are right now.  Talk about leaving has stopped but we’re more distant than ever. I used to think there was nothing worse than serving a long jail sentence. The loss of freedom and loving human contact seemed impossible to endure. Well . . . there’s something worse. Lost intimacy after nearly thirty years of marriage. We’re like long time roommates who have forgotten our friendship. We share the worries. We share the duty of raising the kids. She doesn’t life a finger to clean the house. We don’t talk except about the kids, money, and her mental state. There’s no sex. No kissing. No hugging. No cuddling. Gone are the inside jokes and conspiratorial looks. She literally sleeps on the bitter edge of our king sized bed, and that’s when she actually joins me. Many nights she falls asleep on the couch.

We have taken some steps toward curing our cash flow problems and imposing the very first layer of financial discipline. The “ifs” and “maybes” outweigh the concrete. We’ve applied for a loan modification for our mortgage. That’ll extend the life of the mortgage but cut our payment by a $1000. We’re applying for MassHealth. If that happens, our single biggest expense will be curbed. The national debate about health care is about whether our country can make the costs sane for people like us

When she first got fired in 2008, it our monthly bill was $1400. It rose to about $2300 last August. That’s more than our mortgage. Lord knows what it’ll be this year. Of one thing I am positive: it’s not going down.

Health insurance is a basic need of the same order as food and shelter. She’s a cancer survivor who has been admitted to a partial inpatient facility about once a year since she was bullied out of her job. Things have been so difficult that I became depressed. Now I see a  psychiatrist and am on a cocktail of Zoloft, Lamictal, and Trazadone. And God forbid something happen to one of our children.

She had undiagnosed cancer in ’08, when those bastards retroactively cancelled her health insurance.  Her cancer  has an extremely high mortality rate. We were profoundly lucky. The malignant cells were encapsulated in a large but benign tumor.That was a temporary condition. Had the disease gone undiagnosed much longer, I’d be a widower and a single dad. Removing the tumor got rid of the cancer. The radical hysterectomy significantly decreased her chances of a relapse. Knock on wood it’s been four years.

Beyond our mortgage and health insurance we also have a home equity loan for about  $100,000. That was a loan consolidation for a butt-load of credit card debt she ran up during the year long torture to which Bull Dog subject her.

Compulsive shopping is a lousy coping mechanism. We’ll be paying that back until we sell our house, at which point the balance will siphon off a good chunk of our equity in the sale.

Sometimes I want to scream. Others I want to cry. Others still I feel like sitting in the dark with a tumbler full of my favorite scotch, the one we used to share at the many five star hotels we stayed out together. Can’t afford it. The thought of being a drunk on cheap booze is so unappealing. (At least I have a little bit of pride left).

Often I fantasize about revenge. Not violence,. Bruises heal and give people like the Bull Dog another way to make things worse. These guys, the board and the Bull Dog covet their reputations and their money. So much so that when the Bull Dog was censured by a southern state supreme court, he sued them for slander. He didn’t win but that’s the way to do it.

The beautiful part is we could use his own words, and those of his colleagues to make the point. He was so full of hubris that he brought in a court reporter to capture his first attempt to fire her in February 2008.

I digress . . . If we can tame our cash flow and finally adopt some some financial discipline, we should be able to survive for quite some time. Another big “if”. To be sure these are all things we should have done years ago. But I was borderline phobic about dealing with money that my head was so far up my ass that I needed a glass bellybutton to see the world. She was so mired by depression that it sapped her of the initiative to set our house in order.

I’m feeling another fuck you Steve brewing. Fuck you Steve. You used to say you love us but then your turned your back. Where’s the karmic retribution? Or is this situation our karmic retribution for being assholes in our last lives? i don’t really believe in reincarnation. I do believe in bad luck. Sometimes bad shit happens to good people.

Where does this leave us? I honestly do not know. I can see her leaving. What’s worse, I can see me leaving. A lot of foul water has passed under the bridge. I’m not sure we can ever clean the river bed sufficiently to permit bathing and picnics on the banks?

On Right Road to Ruin?

Thursday, May 3, 2012 Posted by

Looks like we’ve taken another step closer to realizing Bull Dog’s goal of destroying her and our family. Sometimes I wish he killed her that day in Chicago when the assault occurred. It would have been “cleaner.” Though, I suspect the Bull Dog prefers this long drawn out suffering.

She has never been the same since he assaulted and battered her after a meeting in Chicago. Following that he systematically bullied her for a year before finally making false accusations about her integrity and competence in the summer of 2008. Among other things, he falsely accused her of stealing a $100k.

Today she called me from her car on the way home from her psychiatrist. She plans to leave me and the kids, she said, because she can no longer tolerate the pain of her injuries and the pressure of worrying about money. She told me our marriage never worked and she’s too exhausted to continue.

She asked me if I agreed. I don’t.

The answer to that question lies in how we look at “life.” I go with the Buddha’s view: life is suffering. People say death and taxes are the only guarantees in life. They’re wrong. Suffering and death are the only guarantees as in “Life sucks and then you die. Paying taxes requires having money.

She has a point, though. Things are often difficult. We have not prospered financially–well we did for a while until until Bull Dog succeeded in convincing a board of directors of some 20 successful lawyers to fire her on the basis of those lies in 2008.

Since then we’ve struggled to keep a roof over our heads and to maintain some sense of normalcy in our family life. In the years prior we had our share of tough times to be sure, but we also had many, many good times. Consistent throughout the years has been a profound sense of connection between her and me. But the last four years have been nothing short of Greek Tragedy. Things have been as bad as bad gets for an American middle class family.

This emotional and financial tumor that has attached itself to our lives is full of cancer and pernicious. We’ve had meretricious remissions followed by the devastating setbacks. The treatments cause more pain than they’re worth and ultimately they just prolong the inevitable.

We’ve fought the good fight. Truth be told, I am tired too. Living with the victim of an emotional injury is complicated. It’s easy to forget the extent of injuries because the wounds are not visible to the naked eye. There are obvious triggers like Bull Dog’s real name or the name of her former employer. But there are also the hidden ones lying just below the surface like anti-personnel mines just waiting to erupt into a fight at a little league game or to ruin a pleasant evening by the TV.

Thank God for catastrophes like running out of money. There is much to do to secure our situation before going our separate ways. We’ve agreed to work together to solve our immediate problems of getting our mortgage current, refinancing our home, and applying for RomneyCare, better known as MassHealth. That will go a long way toward relieving the intense financial pressure, which will allow us time to sell our house and prepare ourselves and our children for the change.

Another Step Closer to Rock Bottom

Thursday, May 3, 2012 Posted by

I didn’t think it was possible for things go get worse but they have. She has informed me we are months behind in our mortgage and out of money. At this point we have exhausted our resources.

I honestly do not know what we’re going to do to solve thiis problem. She is a mess and getting worse. I’m frightened she will commit suicide or will end up instutionalized. I’m also scared we will not recover from this setback.

If we don’t get help from someone soon we will not be able to keep our house or feed our children or provide them with health care. These are the real consequences of the Bull Dog’s depradatons.

Kama is a tricky thing. According to Zen teaching, this situation is a result of dependent origination, which makes it our fault as much as yours. But I think that’s bullshit. We  did not deserve this fate.  She worked tirelessly for many years to sustain and grow the organzation. Those years of service should have accrued enough good will to protect her from the Bull Dog.

There’s something fundamentally bankrupt about the whole affair. How could you and your colleages allow the Bull Dog to succeed? How could you turn your backs with no thought to the effects on her, me, and our children?

There are children involved. The Bull Dog’s depredations t will affect them for their whole lives, whether it’s college loan debt or mistrust of others or resenting their parents for failing to overcome this setback.

It’s bizzare to me that I even think of you–especially since you made a pass at her.  I think I have a fantasy that if I keep on writint  you’ll eventually apologize and convince ther others to take moral and financial responsibility for your failure to protect her from the Bull Dog.

Fantasies are just that. Make believe. Mirages. Figments. Unfortunately that’s sll I can see right now.

Guilty Bystanders and Fixing Your Workplace Karma

Monday, March 5, 2012 Posted by

It has often come to my mind to compare the events of her story to those of other crimes against women. Here’s a story from the Huffington Post to consider. Police: People Watched Gang Rape Of Teen And Did Nothing To Help. It’s not the most recent but they all follow an all-too-predictable narrative in the upshot of which is that no one helps during the crime and after everyone blames the victim,

RICHMOND, Calif. — Police believe as many as a dozen people watched a 15-year-old girl get beaten and gang-raped outside her high school homecoming dance without reporting it . . . . “She was raped, beaten, robbed and dehumanized by several suspects who were obviously OK enough with it to behave that way in each other’s presence,” Lt. Mark Gagan said. “What makes it even more disturbing is the presence of others. People came by, saw what was happening and failed to report it.”

If 20+ years of  periodic association have taught me anything about you, there is little doubt in my mind that were we talking about that incident over $15 single malts at  a five star hotel, as was our wont, you would have shook your head and decried the reprehensible behavior of the spectators.  We likely would have talked about the moral decay of society and how people should take more responsibility toward their fellow human beings. We would have judged the guilty spectators as moral inferiors.

Can you explain how your actions were different when witnessing The Bull  Dog attacking her at meetings or by email? You can’t because there is none. You, yourself, in private emails said thing like “I am not sure what is the explanation for The Bull Dog’s s success in bullying her (and the board).  And he seems to be picking up support.”

You knew he was a liar and a bully.  Yet the extent of your rancor was to say, “I did say something at the last meeting, and was immediately “impeached” by several members of the board on the basis that my obvious friendship . . . disqualified me from offering an objective assessment of her performance.”

Impeached? It is hard to imagine someone with your accomplishments and intellect as ineffectual. It is hard to imagine someone like you as an impotent spectator. It’s hard to imagine the eventual outcome of that situation had you an iota of passion for the issue.

The best you could come up with was, “I spoke on the matter and was impeached?” That doesn’t sound like much of an effort from a guy who has shaped the minds of people world leaders.

Your inactions speak for themselves, don’t they? In the final analysis, you stood by and watched The Bull Dog destroy a good person’s career without any meaningful interference.  You behavior demonstrated that you are no different than the people who did nothing as a poor teenaged girl was gang raped and beaten.

Sure you could argue, the crimes are not morally equivalent and therefore justify your behavior. But really they are not. Violence against women take many forms. Verbal and emotional violence is just as bad as their physical siblings, if not worse.  Cuts and bruises and broken  bones manifest themselves outwardly and demand attention and explanation. They automatically imbue the victim with  sympathy.

With emotional violence the victims feel shame and suffer in isolation.  As a result of their injuries they often engage in behaviors that invite criticism and judgment, creating further shame and isolation. Those behaviors lead to karmic ripples in the lives of the victims families and associates.

You represent to the world as a wise, compassionate and caring individual. On paper, you help the disadvantaged both here and abroad. Yet the bulk of your work is about helping financially and intellectually advantaged individuals make money off the misery of others., both in your day job and in your work on the association.

And you help yourself to the spoils of your position too.  You sit on numerous boards of directors, which pays your way to meetings held at five star hotels. You drink expensive liquor, eat  sinfully expensive meals, and blow hard for a couple of days.

Perhaps you recall one such meal  the evening before the very meeting where The Bulldog, after waging a year long campaign full of blustering, bullying, and outright lying,  succeeded in terminating her, you and the others partook in a meal that cost over $7,000 for less than 20 people with assorted  guests.

Ironically, one of the Bull Dog’s claims was the organization didn’t have any money because she mismanaged the company’s funds. yet the bills always got paid and some how there was enough money to spend hundreds of dollars per guest for a self-congratulatory meal. Where did the money come from? From sweat of her brow.  And the very next day, your colleagues pulled the trigger on her career and well being. They went as far as retroactively canceling her health insurance. (Oh and by the way, she was nursing a cancerous tumor at that very moment.)

Fixing your karma is a tough one, Steve. The reasons for so doing are self-evident.  But much time has passed. Scar tissue has likely developed over your regret and compassion (if you actually had any) . You are comfortable. Your mind habits are well established.  You probably do not see the need to undertake the necessary self-examination to support a meaningful attempt to make thing right.

But you should.

Unfortunately for her and for  you, “There is no way you can ever work on someone else’s karma, only your own,” (John Burdett, The Godfather of Kathmandu). I believe that. Otherwise for compassion’s sake, I would do it for both of you.  But I can’t.  Letting go and moving on are the cures for her. But letting go of the past is the obstacle face by every PTSD victim.

She and you have to do your own work but I can educate you and others on the consequences of both the association’s and your failure. Clear teaching can help people in their karmic journeys.

Maybe you’ll come across this someday? Or maybe a bully who reads this will repudiate his actions and fix what he broke? Or maybe a bystander will defend a victim?

Karma

Thursday, November 3, 2011 Posted by

Dear Steve,

Guess what our daughter learned from your abandonment? She told me there’s no point in working really hard because all it gets you is screwed by your colleagues. Thanks to you and that sick fuck from DC and all your sycophantic colleagues who refused to stand up to that motherfucking bully.

Fuck you and the Ivory Tower

Tuesday, October 25, 2011 Posted by

You’re nothing more than a deluded old douche bag who thinks he’s do-gooder but in fact is just a spineless douche bag who hangs around for the free hotels and fancy food, like a freeloading fuck. Fuck you. You made a pass at her and didn’t have the balls to stand up to that sicko bully fuck. Fuck you.

Woke Up This Morning in a Bad Mood

Wednesday, October 5, 2011 Posted by

Dear Steve,

It’s time for me to stop feeling like a victim.  Wish I could.  Sadly, the evidence of that mess is a daily part of my life.  During sleep.  While I’m awake.  It hurts so much to realize that people who purport to be “good” can have so callously tossed away a person and her family.  You and your colleagues just plain suck.

Look in the mirror. If you saw yourself as I see you, you’d fall to your knees in abject pain.  You and those other douche bags are no better than the callous urban dwellers who turn a deaf ear and blind eye to a crime victim because they don’t want to get involved.  How do you not hate yourself?  Fuck you and fuck your colleagues.

Role Reversal: Bully Claims Language of Victim

Wednesday, September 21, 2011 Posted by

Dear Steve,

One of the things that amazes most about Her situation is how He was able to so easily shuck the bully mantle for that of victim. It’s so disingenuous and unbecoming of a man who is supposed to be powerful.

That approach and it’s rhetoric is part of a disturbing trend among perpetrators of all stripes to adopt the language of victimization and to use it to turn the tables on their victims thereby doubly victimizing their prey.

I really thought you guys were smart enough to see through that sort of bullshit.