L
lynnehelen
Guest
I explained about him in another thread, but I realized that a separate prayer request for him was needed as I become clearer about my situation, plight, predicament, as the Lord heals me, and so does the fellowship I find through coming to this site.
Red tape gets in the way. My father holds 26 patents, none of which he owns, per his contract with his employer at the time of his developing them. I believe that this “red tape,” (possible confidentiality agreements, and even government security clearance issues?) may be in the way of his sanity and getting the help he needs for it, and therefore mine (historically) and my mother’s (historically and in the present).
I believe he may be semi-autistic, he can be brilliant, other times he gets frozen. He lost his sense of smell during a sinus operation and went into his head. You wouldn’t believe how important the sense of smell is. I have also lost mine. It started with the facial injury to my cat, through which she broke a tooth and had damage to her nose. Black magic? This happened after my hospitalization at the state hospital in Amish country where my Dad’s last job was also.
Then all his kids went nuts on him at the same time (long after he had retired from work) around the time of my son’s birth, and he had a mild stroke. That was fifteen years ago. He has made war on me in particular, and the whole family has tried to cut me out, meanwhile making use of my former name, friends, and reputation.
It is a sorry situation. I mentioned that he had been beaten by his mother as a child, he claims he was never disciplined at the Catholic school he attended in Britain on scholarship but that may mean the opposite, they used canes back then.
He was devout at the end of his time at that school, which he still remembers with love, but was impressed by the flamboyance of the wealthy kids he met at university, which he also attended on a continuing scholarship, and lost his way. His father was Irish Catholic, but did not attend Church. He returned to it at the end of his life. He met a woman, long after my grandmother’s death, who led him to request the last sacraments. My father still misses him. My father is 80 roughly, and could live a long time like his father but you never know.
He knows the faith well enough, he thinks, to “refute” it, as I said he spoke to me of a book called “The Christian Delusion” or something like that. He confessed to me his problem with masturbation as a young boy, probably a reaction to the beatings, and his attitude toward sexuality included using it to hurt me at a critical time in my life. Finally I sought counselling, I was intimidated by my mother, maybe it was a question of the red tape.
I was already in deep stress at that time and the pressure from my mother drove me over the edge; I wound up unable to sleep and got referred to a CHILD psychiatrist who gave me a b.s. diagnosis (of the 20 or so questions he asked me, only 1 was a clear yes) and got put on medication which led me to become suicidal, obviously I had the idea already to go there, I got from a t.v. show when I was very young. (Much later, around the time I was getting married to my husband, I was diagnosed with possible partial complex seizures, every answer was a clear yes.)
My brother was brutalized by my father and mother, and brutalized me in turn, including kneeing me in the crotch, which may play a part in the progress of my finally becoming legally disabled.
They legally disowned me in order to not have to pay for the hospitalization at the state hospital. It was a scandal. I was president of the undergraduate literary magazine in college, a mistake, but, still, I did do that for a year, the reason for my deep stress for which I initially sought counselling; that was in N.J., near Manhattan, where I spent most of my youth.
to present myself at a hospital in SE Penna two years later in a desperate condition and for my parents to refuse to pay for a private hospitalization when the problem I was having was with the meds, which I wasn’t taking properly, and they had the money; to take all those pills (why did my mother leave them with me if she knew I was suicidal?) the night they released me from the psych ward; to almost die from a relatively modest overdose for unknown reasons (I had “icu amnesia” afterward which continued for years because of the subsequent trauma of being sent to the state hospital and mistreated by my parents; when I met my future husband and started talking and remembering I remembered about the catheter, the pain, passing in and out of consciousness because of the pain, I had frequent UTI’s and probably had one then);
it was all a big scandal that my parents wanted covered over with a tidy diagnosis, which they never got. I became subject to fits after that, the first occurring the first time I got out of the state hospital after 3 months and in that case only there was a target, my mother, who had been threatening and harrassing me while the outpatient doctors were tapering me off the meds, who was, brutalized by me in a blind fit for about thirty seconds, my father just stood there, the whole episode lasted about 12 hours before the MH people came to take me back to the hospital by ambulance, my mother sat with me with her hand on my knee, when they wheeled me out on the gurney I broke into hysterical screaming and was convulsing violently and passed out.
So it was all a scandal; I have run out of space.
Where my father is in all this I don’t know. I know that he has complained to me about my mother and her being domineering; after the stroke he became slowly more and more dependent on her and got drawn into her mind, which was, meanwhile, dependent on his.
They are old. Please pray for them both. I have to take a phone call from my son.
Red tape gets in the way. My father holds 26 patents, none of which he owns, per his contract with his employer at the time of his developing them. I believe that this “red tape,” (possible confidentiality agreements, and even government security clearance issues?) may be in the way of his sanity and getting the help he needs for it, and therefore mine (historically) and my mother’s (historically and in the present).
I believe he may be semi-autistic, he can be brilliant, other times he gets frozen. He lost his sense of smell during a sinus operation and went into his head. You wouldn’t believe how important the sense of smell is. I have also lost mine. It started with the facial injury to my cat, through which she broke a tooth and had damage to her nose. Black magic? This happened after my hospitalization at the state hospital in Amish country where my Dad’s last job was also.
Then all his kids went nuts on him at the same time (long after he had retired from work) around the time of my son’s birth, and he had a mild stroke. That was fifteen years ago. He has made war on me in particular, and the whole family has tried to cut me out, meanwhile making use of my former name, friends, and reputation.
It is a sorry situation. I mentioned that he had been beaten by his mother as a child, he claims he was never disciplined at the Catholic school he attended in Britain on scholarship but that may mean the opposite, they used canes back then.
He was devout at the end of his time at that school, which he still remembers with love, but was impressed by the flamboyance of the wealthy kids he met at university, which he also attended on a continuing scholarship, and lost his way. His father was Irish Catholic, but did not attend Church. He returned to it at the end of his life. He met a woman, long after my grandmother’s death, who led him to request the last sacraments. My father still misses him. My father is 80 roughly, and could live a long time like his father but you never know.
He knows the faith well enough, he thinks, to “refute” it, as I said he spoke to me of a book called “The Christian Delusion” or something like that. He confessed to me his problem with masturbation as a young boy, probably a reaction to the beatings, and his attitude toward sexuality included using it to hurt me at a critical time in my life. Finally I sought counselling, I was intimidated by my mother, maybe it was a question of the red tape.
I was already in deep stress at that time and the pressure from my mother drove me over the edge; I wound up unable to sleep and got referred to a CHILD psychiatrist who gave me a b.s. diagnosis (of the 20 or so questions he asked me, only 1 was a clear yes) and got put on medication which led me to become suicidal, obviously I had the idea already to go there, I got from a t.v. show when I was very young. (Much later, around the time I was getting married to my husband, I was diagnosed with possible partial complex seizures, every answer was a clear yes.)
My brother was brutalized by my father and mother, and brutalized me in turn, including kneeing me in the crotch, which may play a part in the progress of my finally becoming legally disabled.
They legally disowned me in order to not have to pay for the hospitalization at the state hospital. It was a scandal. I was president of the undergraduate literary magazine in college, a mistake, but, still, I did do that for a year, the reason for my deep stress for which I initially sought counselling; that was in N.J., near Manhattan, where I spent most of my youth.
to present myself at a hospital in SE Penna two years later in a desperate condition and for my parents to refuse to pay for a private hospitalization when the problem I was having was with the meds, which I wasn’t taking properly, and they had the money; to take all those pills (why did my mother leave them with me if she knew I was suicidal?) the night they released me from the psych ward; to almost die from a relatively modest overdose for unknown reasons (I had “icu amnesia” afterward which continued for years because of the subsequent trauma of being sent to the state hospital and mistreated by my parents; when I met my future husband and started talking and remembering I remembered about the catheter, the pain, passing in and out of consciousness because of the pain, I had frequent UTI’s and probably had one then);
it was all a big scandal that my parents wanted covered over with a tidy diagnosis, which they never got. I became subject to fits after that, the first occurring the first time I got out of the state hospital after 3 months and in that case only there was a target, my mother, who had been threatening and harrassing me while the outpatient doctors were tapering me off the meds, who was, brutalized by me in a blind fit for about thirty seconds, my father just stood there, the whole episode lasted about 12 hours before the MH people came to take me back to the hospital by ambulance, my mother sat with me with her hand on my knee, when they wheeled me out on the gurney I broke into hysterical screaming and was convulsing violently and passed out.
So it was all a scandal; I have run out of space.
Where my father is in all this I don’t know. I know that he has complained to me about my mother and her being domineering; after the stroke he became slowly more and more dependent on her and got drawn into her mind, which was, meanwhile, dependent on his.
They are old. Please pray for them both. I have to take a phone call from my son.
