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Chapter 59 ... When your child cries abuse

"If you were faced with such an awful truth about yourself, wouldn't it just make sense to lie?" 




I had suddenly entered the den of potential drug addiction.  I was keenly aware of the repercussions and fought it.  I worked.  Long hours and often.  I would only take what I needed to not be in pain, carefully spacing dosages to make certain I would never have to HAVE them.  I supplemented with aspirin which made Mel crazy.  She said I was going to bleed to death.  I had been doing this since I was a very young child and only once, when I had nasal surgery did I have a bleeding problem.  Long story, no place for it here.  Perhaps one day… 

Mel tried to get me to take the medication with regularity, but I refused, initially.  I was addicted to work.  I brought it home with me, drawing in bed, writing manuals, editing specs.  It was what I loved.  And Mel was not the rapturous lover she started out.  They never are.  She made it clear she would be the one to make the rules.  So after a while I just let her run the bedroom and I filled in the gaps with my work. I made the mistake of confessing this to Bootsie who already had the edge on this from Dana and used it to her advantage.  Bootsie was beside herself. Day in and day out, she would call or find me on-line and IM’ing me. Truthfully it served me right if she never called me again.

Fall was rapidly approaching and the veneer had starting to peel from Mel’s perfect façade. We had been to several fun filled events together. She met Jerry and was very aware of our relationship and its import. I told her she could probably come between me and a lot of things. My children and Jerry, she could not. There had been the prerequisite birthday parties. He had one for me and I for him. He even had one for Mel. He seemed to approve and without telling her, that was the deciding factor (after my kids).  After my last relationship and some issues regarding Devon, he had been skeptical.  He disliked Crawford immediately because she took him into her confidence complaining about the kids.  He worshipped my kids and he never saw them act anything but like young adults.  So he banished her immediately. 

Jerry had a huge party, I spoke of it earlier, where some of the most unexpected came, and the expected did not.  Two of them had been friends of my ex who helped her move out.  Now they were and had something to tell me.  Something Devon had already confessed. 

Devon controlled the household.  I knew it.  But she had divulged to me such a penitent secret, such a horrific event, that I felt her honesty and right to have a safe house was what I needed to give her. Devon had no reason to disclose to me.  The person she was to tell me about was gone, no longer a threat.  So it wasn’t as if she was manipulating me into getting rid of the source.  But why she didn’t tell me at the time it was happening was beyond me.  I was also traumatized by this confession and knew I would never be able to make it up to her. 

I have edited out the actual events as a request.

Devon said she knew I would never have believed her, which was wrong.  I would have believed her categorically. Nothing would come between me and my children.  How often I had told Devon that I was going to write a letter and have her keep it with her

 Dear whoever you are that has my daughter, 

Be certain, be real certain this is what you want to do. 

Because it is not you that I will harm, but everyone you know. 

Your parents, your grandparents, your children, your grandchildren. Your animals, your neighbors, people you will be in jail with, everyone and anyone that knows you will want you dead for your association with them will be lethal, poisonous and their families will suffer as well. 

 It will be continuous, generational. 

History books will carry this saga for centuries because you will bring this down on them for an eternity. I will torture them in such a way Asylum Pictures won’t even want to portray it on the screen. This will happen, and if you have my child at this moment, it is happening at this moment. 

To stop the hemorrhaging, return her now, and perhaps, I will stop.  But probably not.  If you return her, you can live and that is all I will promise. 


So having written this, why would Devon not tell me the truth?  There it is folks.  It can happen to anyone and may be happening in your household right now.

When Devon went to Europe, at twelve years old as a student ambassador, late one night her phone was ringing off the hook.  It was a man.  The caller id said “Rogaine” and it was from the Woodlands.  The man said he was calling my daughter back, she had just called him.  I said that was quite impossible because she was in Scotland and it was an 8 hour difference and as we were speaking she was golfing at St. Andrews.  I really should not have given him so much info.  But I was so aghast that this older man was calling this number and saying it was on HIS caller ID, so I thought he got it wrong. 

But then he said he met her on line in a chat room.   And then I knew it was certain.   I should have booted this person’s ass right then.  But Devon said – at the time and later recanted – it was her friends fooling around and it got out of control.  It turned out after this person left my household, my daughter confessed the actual story; the person had been keeping in contact with the guy through my daughter. 

I have never been told, Devon has refused to take it any deeper, whether my child had been touched.  But she was exposed and used.  And the potential for her to have had and probably has emotional issues from this is apparent.  And the disease that could have entered my home, I cannot think about it. 

And the extent that it traveled in my circle of friends and then within my career path was exhaustingly disappointing.  I thought I knew everything there was about these matters.   

This permanently damaged my relationship with my daughter.  She never looked at me the same.  I still speak with several of these people and they are contrite about their roles.  My daughter has forgiven this woman.  And I have had to do so as well.  But it is still my daughter who will control the situation, and at this time she is almost 30.  If today she cut herself off from her, I would do so as well. She confessed this to Mel and I that fall, and then again to Jerry.

So Mel knew, the barrier had been raised and now no-one would gain that control again.  But every once in while I would lose it.  She was a teenager.

 If we raised our voices with Devon ;“Your hostility invalidates our parent child contract” was one of her favorite retorts.  School became her second home as she set up house in the debate department and broke all stereotypes.

My eldest, Billy has a high profile, albeit “high volume” group touring the world at present time. He is very protective of his sister and would cubby her back stage until he felt she was ready. He kept her back there well passed the prerequisite “under 16”.

But Mel knew what I wanted and metamorphosed to meet those criteria.

She enjoyed the best parts of parenting. Our home was filled with teenagers. My daughter had always been told her homework was her job, the people she went to school with, 90% will not even recognize her ten years out of school. 

She was indeed an enviable student. Her intelligence and diversity laid out a certain future. She was allowed to dress as she pleased. She knew better than to think she could wear her favorite punk looks for situations where a first impression was an important issue.  I allowed Devon to wear anything she pleased. She had a good head on her shoulders and knew when and where appropriate attire should be worn.  I was not going to continue the circle of constraints without form from my youth. My mother actually sent me to my first day at a new school when I was 12, in a “look” straight out of Dr. Zhivago. Yes, hat and all.  For debate Tournaments Devon wore Karen Scott and Casper suits. I envied her for her ability to not let anyone shake her, yet her friends became defined by her relationship with them. And if there was an underdog, as in the case where the father of two sisters from her school, murdered their next door neighbor. Devon had no reason to be friends with these girls, yet when they returned to school, it was Devon that made the move to encourage them.

All my children seemed well rounded and aware of other people’s strife. I am very proud of them.

But her confession changed everything about me, I suddenly did not want to be at work and worried every moment.  I wanted to be home, and Devon was now past the age where she wanted me hanging around.

It seemed she had already confessed this to my family, and then to my beloved mother-in law, Lee.  I could not begin to imagine Lee's disappointment with me. 

I was going through a difficult time then, but it wasn't so much that I needed someone to take care of my daughter. I would come home after working long hours, usually getting up at 5 am and coming home at 7. That was wrong. I would eat, find out about Devo's day, retire to my room, have a couple of glasses of wine and the whole day would start over again. I could have done better. But i wasn't taking drugs, I wasn't a drunk.   No one had to pick me up from someplace I had gotten drunk at, I hated to be out with drunks, so I certainly wasn't going to be that to someone else.  No one had to dress me or undress me, call in for me at work, or make excuses for me.  But they sure made them for themselves when all this came down.

And the people who do these things, some ask for forgiveness, others will stand in denial, but the damage is done.  Denial or contriteness does not turn back the hands in time.  Denial only does more damage.  So if you have done this to someone, be the better person now.  Everything can be forgiven in heaven and earth once you ask for it.

Things finally settled into a routine.

But then again, not quite.  How could things ever be the same?





This is the rewriting of another post, however, here are some of the comments:



Oh, one more thing, Di--just to make sure I had my story straight, I called up the roommate we had and checked his memory about when Mel was kicked out of the house. And I was right. Right after Ren Festival, she went to live with Nan. I gave her till the 1st of January to come get her stuff out of my house because she had SO MUCH STUFF she'd been dragging around for years. So I knew it would take her a LONG TIME. I also told my best friend/ex-roommate that when I allowed her to come back and get Lucky that she dragged YOU through the house and stole a few more items from MY house.


Just goes to show the character of that cretin you loved for so long. My friend John told me yesterday he is incredibly glad that I got rid of her when I did, because she LOVED keeping me sick and in a doctor's office, and he was afraid she would eventually kill me. Straight from another horse's mouth, hun. You were lucky to survive that 14 years.Dana Bird-HardawayApril 19, 2011 09:54 PM






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 Yes, this is absolutely positively true. If you lived this wouldn't you write about it? Some of the names of characters in this blog are fictitious. This is an account of actual events. Some of the events have been compiled together for the flow of the story. Even when I read my own work, I wonder how it could be so. But if you study your own life and compartmentalize it into less than 200 pages, you would be surprised how interesting it really is!  


TRUTH HAS WITNESSES (Dianne Lindsey) This material is the copyright Dianne Schuch Lindsey and cannot be duplicated in any fashion without the express permission of the Author. All rights reserved ©

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