Tag: terror

Imagining the worst, hoping for the best…

It’s common knowledge. I write some of my best stuff when I am about to boil over and wreck someone’s day. So I guess what I am going to do is something like that.

I am going to let you all imagine a little something.

Imagine you have this friend, a dear friend that means the world to you.

Imagine you get a message from that friend…that she has been having some incredibly difficult family problems involving her sociopathic and incredibly violent douchebag ex-husband (who we will imagine is called Jordan1). She is concerned for her children… yes, the same ones we will imagine have proven he has abused2 That’s right, imagine she’s already had him proven to be abusive to the kids (in court no less).

Imagine finding out that she was instructed to stop reporting the abuse or she would lose her children by DFPS3 not because they were false, but because they didn’t have the ability/manpower to process the reports she was filing and she was questioning their ability to do their job. I imagine I would already be calling shenanigans…

Imagine finding out that the DFPS deliberately informed the psycho asshat ex-husband when she was taking the kids to visit her parents, and how incredibly coincidental it would have been that someone broke into her house, and stole important documentation, than trashed out the entire house…all of it.

Imagine hearing that she’s so afraid of retaliation from her ex-husband that she moves an extremely promising blog offline to keep the psycho asshat ex-husband from going off the deep end and showing up to kill them all …imagine that I’m not even joking here people…Imagine someone chaining you through fear and terror so much that you can’t express yourself anymore. Imagine that while tracking her website it’s found that psycho asshat ex-husband is hitting her site over 50 times a day (fyi – this is reaaaaally too much even if they’re really really funny).

Imagine finding out the DFPS turned around and dismissed all the reports because the pictures didn’t show enough damage like bruises arent enough to prove abuse?!, only to find out that they looked at black and whites instead of the color originals that were actually submitted with the report.

Imagine it’s been a year, and he’s been reported directly to the DFPS supervisor about the injuries at least 6 times. SIX TIMES in over a years time, not including the medical personnel that the mother brought the child to after the kids were injured so bad they had to see a doctor. Imagine the police are now saying that they don’t want to hear a report from you unless there are broken bones involved.

Imagine that the psycho asshat ex-husband got away with breaking into and destroying everything in the her house…everything. Stole all her documentation, the kids birth documents, her laptop (which held all of her professional and personal documents), this jerk even stole some of the kids clothes.

Imagine this piece of work was just discovered to have stolen and used his ex-wife’s identity to secure a wireless account through AT&T and running up hundreds of dollars.. Imagine AT&T wouldn’t admit to any wrongdoing on their part.

Imagine this asshat actually got caught bugging her home. Imagine how invaded you would feel if you found out that he bugged your home, and the cops weren’t able to convict him for it even after he’d admitted it was his when it was found.

Imagine that not only did DFPS toss all that out. Imagine that the counselor (we’ll call her Annette4) in charge tells your friend that since her ex-husband (who makes six figures, only has a 30 hour work-week, and doesn’t even pay his support on time) is under so much stress with his job and the divorce that she, the mother -who has to work extra hours every week because said imaginary douche canoe ex-husband isn’t paying his support to her – will now be expected to transport the kids to him for visitation. Imagine this asshole man, already proven to be violent and constantly under the influence of pain-killers and heavy anti-depressants. Then imagine that not only does your friend have to permit him around the kids, imagine her being told she will have to actually drive those children to him…just imagine a social worker telling you that, under pain of reporting that you’re not following a court ordered visitation.

Now imagine having to see your child returned to you bruised and injured every single time the psycho asshat ex-husband is given unsupervised visitation…for the last year.

Now imagine your child returning to you from visitation and finding out the psycho asshat ex-husband has taught his 3 year old son to call his mother a whore.

I want you to imagine trying to protect those kids, when the very system designed to protect them is more interested in exposing them to an abusive and violent sociopath.

What would YOU do?

Me? I imagine I would I call her every day to make sure she’s okay, and that her kids are okay, and then I’d get more and more angry and eventually write about it in my blog. I imagine I would want to know who’s in charge of making sure the DFPS is handling their cases properly. Because I imagine I haven’t heard from DFPS regarding any reports. I imagine tomorrow I’ll be able to spend the time necessary to make all the phone calls I need to the media regarding this (those that aren’t already subscribed to me via RSS), since I imagine the DFPS didn’t find one of these reports important enough to follow up with me on…namely MINE.

I imagine that dear friend is so far away that I’ll have to take leave from my job to come down there and help. So before I do that, I am going to let everyone else I can think of reaching know about this…because I imagine I know of at least one person that’s reported these problems to the DFPS that still hasn’t been contacted, and if so the ball is getting dropped bigtime.

Hear that?…that’s the sound of the clock running out before the charade is at an end and we can imagine the police finally being able to charge that psycho asshat ex-husband with something that will stick.

…that’s the sound of the time running out before we imagine the DFPS realizes that so much damage lays squarely at their feet that despite it being almost impossible to fix, they will start.

…that’s the sound of the clock as time continues and we imagine someone reads this and finally realizes they might not be imagining a damn thing.

Before you label me for going too far. Before you think I shouldn’t be involved. Please know that I deliberated for a LONG time about posting this. In the scenario depicted above, an incredibly dear friend and her children are being nothing short of terrorized physically and mentally by a guy that the state agencies simply seem incapable or unwilling to protect them from. An appeal to the media, and to the public is sometimes necessary in order to make it clear that in this imagined scene, at least a few of us will not stop defending our friends…even where the state makes it evident they will not.

And before someone mistakenly thinks they might need to C&D me, you’d better read the disclaimer at the bottom of this website. This is my house, not yours. Conjecture isn’t illegal, neither is imagination, and most importantly neither is my ability to continue speaking out about everything I find wrong in this world….most importantly some imaginary asshat that thinks he can continually terrorize a family, and the fucked up system that is turning a blind eye to it all.

UPDATE:

The CPS division of the DFPS can be located at:
http://www.dfps.state.tx.us/Child_Protection/About_Child_Protective_Services/. If you need to contact them or even suspect abuse, please call 1-800-252-5400 or go to https://www.txabusehotline.org

If you are an agent of the state or with the media and wish to get more information regarding this article, please use the contact page (CLICK HERE).

Show 4 footnotes

  1. For the time being we will simply note that this person is a complete waste of space and the name “Jason” in no way shape or form refers to any real person, alive or dead…regardless of our preferences in the matter.
  2. This piece of work gave a little girl a black eye and pushed her down a full flight of stairs!
  3. CPS is a division of the Department of Family and Protection Services(website HERE). In my opinion, they seem to be more about rehabilitating the father than protecting the children. This article bears no relation to the current investigations that I seriously think are nothing more than my imagination in Travis and Williamson Counties
  4. Let’s be clear, said person is a chiropractor with a certification from the state allowing her to counsel. Thats what I would want governing the visitation, a person without the rigorous education necessary to properly diagnose mental problems…such as those of an ex-husband thats already been busted for beating his family.




The Dog…

This is one of life’s lessons you hope never happens to ya, a dog you’ve grown to trust as your friend gets ugly.

Be patient, some of this is fuzzy, it was almost 30 years ago 😛
This happened back when I was 5 years old, and was a pretty big deal at the time. My mom and I were alone in the house for a while and my Mom had borrowed her sister’s dog for added security. “Spade” was a jet black Lab/Colly mix that I had long since befriended and he was one of my friends to play with as a kid. One night its was getting late i was watching tv, I got real tired. Since Spade was right next to me sleeping blissfully away, i thought he would make a great pillow and put my head down on his chest.

Spade was greatly startled and growled and snapped at me for what seemed like 5-10 seconds. What really happened was the dog was having a dog’s version of a nightmare and I was mauled when the dog was woken. After the dog got through, I turned to my mom (who was knitting on the couch behind me) ans said, “Something is wrong with the dog.” I have never seen a look of terror so great on my mom’s face. All of a sudden I realized that i could not see through my right eye and my lips felt funny. My mom was running to me dragging the phone in one hand and a towel and stuff in the other…

…*blink*…(minutes pass)
We’re driving someplace, I think the hospital. Aunt Toni and my Mom keep yelling at me to keep the towel pressed to my eye.

…*blink*…(minutes pass)
I am on a hospital gurney. There is a gazillion people standing over me and we’re moving quite fast. Everyone is talking to me and I am trying to respond, but it doesnt seem I have the ability to speak properly all of a sudden.

…*blink*…(minutes pass)
I am in a scary room with lights. The guy standing over me says “Tony, you’ve got to try and stop talking, we cant help you when you’re talking.” Another guys says, “Turn the juice up, he’s not going under without a fight.” I remember distinctly being able to count down to 56 from 100 before the lights went out.
…*blink*… (days pass)

I wake up to being dressed like a mummy!!! As I am trying to make sense of things like – Why am I bandaged up all over my head? Where am I? Why wont my legs move where I want them to? I figure comes in and tells me I need to go bacl to sleep. The world goes dark again…

…*blink*… (days pass)

I wake up again, this time I am WAY HUNGRY. I see that to my left is a candy bar waiting for me on the nightstand. I reach for it, and am quite thankful they didnt dress my entire body up as a mummy, as well as having a snack ready. I get myself off the bed and promptly fall down. All of a sudden there are bunches of people around me all grinning ear to ear and it seems like everyone is carrying a present of some sort…WOOHOO!! I try to talk and find that this stupid mummy thing is REALY getting on my nerves. People are totally interpreting my words wrong and scrambling to get stuff I dont need…wierdos. I decide that the funny mask has to go and reach for it…suddenly everyone is holding me down. I still dont know whats going on, and proceed to start bitching at everyone in the room with alot of words I am not supposed to even know yet.

Then…I get a taste of the truth. I am told that they are keeping me sedated on purpose because i keep trying to mess with the face mask. I retort that it may have worked better if they had remembered that I could hear just fine, and thankfully didnt get put to sleep again…at least not by more drugs…however it seems what was already in my system was enough.

..*blink*… (days later)

I wake up again…everyone in my local family is crowded into the room. One of the docs I remember from the gas-mask count down incident is checking my bandage…no…he’s taking it off!!! A big letdown, he’s only taking it off enough to let me speak clearly (as much as possible with 70+ stitches running throughout my mouth.)

…*blink*…(amount of time unknown)

The big day is here!!! I get this stupid bandage off! Everyone is around again, i have candybars…pop…and a pile of homework thats just scary all waiting for me 😉

…*blink*…(amount of time unknown)

I am fully coherent now, the drugs have worn off, and I have seen what happened in the mirror…it was pretty gruesome. I also get more details about the incident. I was in shock so much that the NO2 they were feeding me wasnt working well. It’s also the reason everything was so clear. However they had to give me too much, and me, being a little 5 year old boy, too a nice long nap. Yes…that time measured in weeks. Technically they never said the word “coma” to me, but thats what it felt like and ther was an element of dialogue I remember occurring with my mom and the doctor that was deliberately forgotten after I came to.

So, I am awake and totally hating it…there is this big wire loop coming out of my eye! There are stitches virtually everywhere and I am all kinds of swollen. Three more weeks I endured those damn things…still hated them.

…the worst part was my reaction to dogs. Even though I had one, I still never really got over what the dog did and to this day can “freeze up” when a dog enters the room. It happens only once in a blue moon now. But after spending so much time terrified of them, I almost feel like it was misused time. My next dog will be a German Shepherd / Mastiff mix.
The moral of the story:

Let sleeping dogs lay.

Dont use sleeping dogs as pillows either.