Please direct all comments and inquiries to JRBurton5@hotmail.com
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
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12-08-05
I had my first meeting with “Adult Provider” Robert Warren today. His office was in a beautiful professional building in Dillon, that was an architectural delight. I felt comfortable and inspired there.
Meeting me in the lobby, he greeted me cordially. But before we went to his office to begin our session I excused myself to use the bathroom. There I turned on the tape-recorder that was hidden in my carrying bag. Returning to the lobby, he escorted me to his office, where we sat in plush chairs to discuss my case.
Off the bat I asked if I might call him Bob, and he consented.
We talked for an hour or so but I’ll cut right to the chase, in reporting the most important results. I’ll couch my private thoughts in parentheses here.
Bear in mind that this man knew nothing about my sexual history, nor was he in possession of Dr. Pingitore’s report yet, as I told him about my incident with Corissa. But that ignorance didn’t stop him from pontificating and proscribing infallibly upon all manner of things.
For example:
While expressing my concerns about what he might believe himself entitled to from me, he interrupted to diagnose me as having some sort of “anxiety disorder”— because “you get you all excited about things before you know what they are”, he said. But then he went on to confirm that all the things I was having those anxieties about were exactly correct! Those things were, basically— and just as I suspected— that he was empowered to “recommend” medications, polygraphs, both individual and group therapy, and additional PPGs.
(Gee, Bob: that means I knew exactly “what things are”! I supposed that as a result of my “anxiety” he’d want me to go on meds.)
We had a brief discussion about whether I would have to register as a sex offender, in which I told that I would not. This dialog ensued:
BW: I think then that with a person who has a story like yours (inaudible!)…the state of Colorado then is taking the position then that sex addiction is the same type of process as alcoholism…and so the best that society can do is to give you tools to contain your aberrant behavior…and that you’re always going to be a danger…”
Me: “You just diagnosed me as a sex addict”.
BW: “No”.
Me: “I thought I just heard that”.
BW: “Uh uh”.
(So that’s how it’s going to be!)
He went on to say: “The state of Colorado has taken the position that there
are no sex addicts. That’s not my position, but it’s their position”
(I see— so we have two inconsistencies here: first is that Colorado believes both that sex-addiction is like alcoholism, and that it does not exist… As a result Bob gets to simultaneously diagnose me as a sex-addict and deny making that diagnosis too— for the same reason.)
(Did that mean my treatment would be hostage to both the state’s assumptions and his contradictory ones as well?)
I imagined hearing a cash-register going ka-ching.
When I told him that Dr. Pingitore had diagnosed an acute depressive episode he became visibly upset.
“And this guy is a psychosexual counselor?” he asked, indignantly.
(Apparently Dr. Pingitore had spoiled all the fun).
Then Bob asked me if I think that I am a sex addict. I thought about that a minute
and hemmed and hawed before answering truthfully “I don’t know— what would some behaviors of a sex addict be?” But he said he didn’t want to answer that then (Uh huh): he said “we have too much work to do”.
(So why had he asked?)
As to the polygraphs, he said he’d ask for three— and that on each of them I’d be
asked whether I’ve fantasized about having sex with children since the last such test.
(FANTASIZED ABOUT HAVING SEX WITH CHILDREN. That offended me utterly. Why would he be asking me such a thing anyway?)
And yes: he actually presumed to recommend what kind of car I can drive too! I kid you not. I asked him facetiously if his empowerment to make recommendations extended even that far— half expecting him to chuckle— but he answered that any car that might look like it’s designed to attract kids would be a car he’d recommend I do not drive. (That point was well taken too, but I thought he was an ass nonetheless, just for feeling a need to even say that to me. Like he presupposed I might ever cruise for kids.)
He said that people are going to wonder whether I’m a child molester. I asked for clarification about that: “You mean they will wonder whether I’ve been involved in this sort of situation before— or whether I have some secret proclivity that even I am not aware of?” To that he equivocated, saying that as a therapist he would try to distinguish between the two. (What does that mean?)
Then he averred that I will forever be regarded as a child molester, and that nothing— NOTHING— will convince “them” (his ilk, I guess) that I’m not.
He said it takes at least five years to treat a child molester, and that even then the best “we” (people like me) can hope for is to be considered a “reduced risk”— and to have “them” (people like him) issue a certificate or some goddam thing that says I’m “not considered a danger at this time”. AT THIS TIME.
Then “Bob” glibly asserted that I’m “in denial”. But when I asked him what I am in denial about he said he didn’t have time to say.
(Uh huh.
That’s exactly what I’d come to expect from these people anyway! “Denial” is the name of their unanswerable control game…It’s like accusing someone of having uncon-scious motivations— because what can you say to an “expert” in reply to that—our unconscious being by definition inaccessible?… So now he’ll either never tell me what I’m supposedly “in denial” about, or he’ll regale me with some bullshit instead.)
So you see that I was already appalled by “Bob” when he divulged that:
The men who go through this process generally do not have access to the psycho-sexual reports (like I did) nor even get to see the results of the tests (like I did). And he said that after I took his tests I wouldn’t get to see them either.
(Can you believe that?! The poor bastards don’t even get to see their tests!… So they can get utterly railroaded by the likes of Bob Warren without being able to challenge the interpretations, made so… self-servingly by these people. That circumstance allows these predatory psycho-sexual counselors to treat these men for years— at great expense of course— for “implications” that maybe aren’t even there— all to the infallible therapist’s convenience!)
But he did say one thing that I had not thought of. That came after I griped about Dr. Pingitore’s having characterized me as a person with a history of mental problems, because I had a history of therapy.
“Maybe that wasn’t the basis he used for that conclusion”, he said Hmmm.
At the end of that session, he said he wanted me to meet his partner, Dr. Meyers, before we went any further. And he asked me to sign a release so he could get my report from Dr. Pingitore. Then he sent me home with a big packet of papers. Among other things, they identified the institute he and Dr. Meyers ran together in Colorado Springs, which was called the Bijou Treatment and Training Institute.
The name conjured memories of those secretive organizations in old spy movies, inevitably headed by some evil psychopath.
Oh yes: forgive me for not having described him. I remember him as fifty-fivish, not tall, bearded, and with beady blue eyes. That memory is scanned for here, however, from fifteen months later.
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Can you imagine the position I would be in today with respect to all of this “counseling” if I hadn’t had access to those reports of Drs. Maram and Dr. Pingitore? I still wouldn’t know what non-sequitor bullshit and lies they’d employed toward their conclusions. And not knowing what the conclusions were, I wouldn’t have been able to dispute them either. I’d be trapped in the machine—under the thumb of predators like Dr. Robert Warren.
God help us all! That means it all is up to me, then— to expose these people! It means that I must be their Liberator! Now I really do have a God-given cause!
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If I’m such a danger to the community, then how come when I got into a situation where I easily could have coerced, enticed, forced, detained, or restrained a young “victim”, I did none of those things?
Did I lure her, though? Not according to her: she said the hike was her idea!
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It’s clear what will happen, if I submit to this program: they’ll treat me like a child molester, and pretend that is a legitimate assumption…They’ll demand I take their tests again— and refuse to show me the answers, while misrepresenting the conclusions … They’ll tell me that I am “in denial”— but not what I am supposedly in denial about… and then they’ll expect me to admit to things that are not true… They’ll smile in my face while they twist the knife.
No, I will not be able to win with these people. They will ask for more and more as we get closer to the finish— and the best that I can hope for will be a report that says that I “probably” represent “little risk” to the community “at this time” …which would only come, no doubt, after “admitting” that “this” has happened “many times” before… and also, no doubt, after declaring that “I’m glad I’m finally able to get help for my prob-lem”. Yep, Bob Warren tipped his hand to me early. He let the game plan out of the bag.
These people need to be argued with. But there is no arguing with them!
God himself could come down from heaven, tell them they are wrong, and show them a moving picture of my life— devoid of all their suspected transgressions— and they would still know they are right. Or they would still pretend to, that is.
I may as well just turn myself in now: it’ll save a lot of time.
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During our first telephone interview, before our first session, Bob said that since I hadn’t been ordered specifically into the Colorado program, that he had some latitude in treating me. I told you that. But in person he insisted I go through his whole program anyway. That program would cost $320 a month. All his other “recommendations” of course, would cost more (these are my estimates):
PPG: $1000 (maybe less in Colorado)
3 Polygraphs minimum: $750
Meds and a Doctor to prescribe them: $150, plus $50 a month…
So that $320 a month quickly escalates to more like $500…
None of those extras are acceptable to me anyway. I could imagine taking a lie-detector nonetheless, just to shut them up— but I wouldn’t trust their interpretations there either. And I won’t take a PPG again regardless, for three reasons:
1) Because it is not healthy to listen to such things. I suspect these sons-of-bitches actually create molesters that way.
2) Because they cannot be trusted with their interpretations.
3) The expense. But even if they offer to pay my way, the first two reasons hold.
I thought more about Dr. Warren’s reaction to Pingitore’s diagnosis: about how in response to his “acute depressive episode” diagnosis he had seemed so stunned as to feel cheated. I told you this. With incredulity he asked whether Dr. Pingitore was a sexual specialist— as though he had presupposed that that could not be true, on that basis. The fly on the wall might have gotten the impression that Dr. Warren was pissed off that a player supposedly on his team would make a diagnosis that does not feed the machine!…
So it seems that therefore— from his point of view— even if acute depressive episode is the correct diagnosis it should not have been made, regardless. Or if it has already been made, it should be ignored, denied, or superseded— for the sake of his voodoo aversion machine.
That’s right: his voodoo aversion therapy machine— where it’s all right to treat people for the wrong thing, after ensuring that the right thing cannot be diagnosed… by referring anyone so much as accused of sexual impropriety to the type of doctor who will diagnose “sex addiction”— and thus prick the legal machinations that will throw him into his (insatiable) machine! It’s as if he believes he has an entitlement. And that strikes me as predatory.
I suspect these people don’t have the faintest idea what is true and what is not true about sexuality through all of this anyway: that this psycho-sexual machine represents a sort of Manhattan Project on male sexuality, and that they don’t even know whether their auditory “images” help people or hurt them.
Nor do they care: they only care about money and power— and what they might learn…And if they learn that they are in fact creating sexual offenders, then first they’ll try to hide that fact, until they can hide it no more…then they’ll write about it in retro-spective “silly us” tones— with a lot of whoops-es and gosh-didn’t-realize-es, regarding the misguided assumptions of the misled “previous generation” of assessors.
All that meant that Dr. Pingitore’s diagnosis could prove to be of more value to me than I had previously thought! Fortunately the good doctor had not also altered that, after making his initial diagnosis.
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So I was compelled to write another letter. This one was to Dr. Robert Warren. And this time it was a preemptive strike: (See Appendix III)
“Dear Bob, (dated)
Perhaps it would be wise to postpone my meeting with your Associate…
…I would not want to be in the position of coming in to see your Associate, and paying him for that visit, only to find you are not wiling to work with me on the basis of this letter…
…The problem is that we’ve had exactly one meeting and already I have issues.
I went on to comment upon each of the issues I revealed above. When I got to the part about the “sex addict” diagnosis, I said this:
“…in spite of your denial about that, that I am going to in fact go on to get that diagnosis from you, and thus betray (or at lest strongly suggest) that you believed it was valid all along. And if and when I do get assessed in that way, I am going to feel lied to. I’m sorry to say that— but it’s true”! So there we are— just barely out of the gate— and we already have a significant issue…
…What is more, you said that I am to be regarded as a dangerous person…
…I guess that “conclusion” especially rankles me against a backdrop of the diagnosis Dr. Pingitore gave, of my having had an “acute depressive episode”: an episode in the throes of which I failed to entice, coerce, lure, or engage in any form of violence against my vulnerable victim. And yet the process does not shrink to employ such “conclusions” like that as over-rule common sense.
I expressed my concerns about expected “admissions, and I expressed my concern that: “…the truth will not matter nearly as much as justifying the agenda….and that that
process enables itself via many unsupportable “assumptions”.
Continuing:
…It concerned me also when you said you thought I was in denial. Then you told me you didn’t have time to tell me what you thought I was in denial about. Well I have got to tell you Dr. W. that that accusation struck me as more trick than substance— such that if we went longer than a very brief while without you either justifying that claim or repudiating it I think I’d lose a lot of trust…
Then— and very audaciously, I like to think— I proposed this:
Getting back to the idea of a lie-detector test again. I do not mind taking one at all, as long as— in addition to what you want to ask- all the following questions get asked of me as well:
1) Did I believe Corissa was 18 or 19 when I first met her, and when I formed the first attraction?
2) Did Corissa rub my shoulders without provocation in the Computer Room, and represent herself as a woman?
3) Did Corissa initiate and propel the sexual activity? (I don’t care here if some therapists do not think it matters)
4) Do I think that excuses me for my participation?
5) Did Corissa follow me outside of the Library and ask if she could drive my car?
6) Did I in any way at any time detain or restrain her, physically or psychologically?
7) Did I have any knowledge of Corissa’s very existence before she came into the Library that morning?
Did she tell me not to “tell anybody”, as we came down from the hill?
9) Did she tell me that she loved me, to which I answered ‘You’re scaring me’?
10) Was my motive in accompanying Corissa up the hill to learn the facts about the rape?
11) Have I ever been involved in anything remotely close to this before?
12) Am I am child-molester, pederast, pedophile, or sexual deviant?
13) Have I ever lured, enticed or coerced any child or teen into sexual activity?
14) Have I ever had sexual relations with a child?
15) Have I ever had sexual relations with a teen?
16) Have I ever wanted to have sexual relations with a child?” (As a young adult, I did want to have sexual relations with a teen)
17) Aside from during the taking of the PPG, have I ever fantasized about having sex with a child?
18) Did I believe Corissa to be mentally incompetent?
19) Did I ever tell anybody I had sat down naked on the ground?
20) Did I tell Dr. Pingitore I learned that she was 15 when we went to drive my car?
21) Did I tell Dr. Pingitore that I went to the water tower with Corissa “intending” to have sexual relations with her?
22) On the morning of my arrest, did I write in my journal ‘what if I just killed myself?’— and had I ever written anything like that before?
I think that’s all for now— but I can imagine some others.
I am saying all of this because I do not want to be surprised- or misled- or told I must do more and more stuff as we get closer to the finish line, and only to find that I am only feeding the juggernaut anyway. What is more, if I were to take a polygraph test, I would have to insist on being allowed to have my own chosen monitor present for it; that after the fact I be allowed to see the result; and that I be allowed to take the test result to an independent analyst, should I disagree with- or be suspicious of— their results. I just cannot allow any more uncorroborated tests to be misconstrued by seemingly agenda-driven analysts.
I proposed a number of other things too— related to his “entitlements”: those are accessible in the letter’s full explication- in the Appendix, of course. And I added:
You should also know that I am likely to be very stubborn about anything you attempt to justify in terms of your “assumptions”.
…since Dr. Pingitore’s report was that I’d had an “acute depressive episode”… then why would you presume to negate that diagnosis, and put me through all kinds of paces related to another— invalid— explanation…
I asked him to contact me if he agreed and still wanted me to see his co-therapist.
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Zack called me with a recommendation for another sex-therapist type person, who works in Breck. Her name is Mary Augustyn. Then I called her and she called me back and left a message to call her again! So new hope comes again.
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HEY: if Corissa had really been raped and sexually abused for six years then why had she never seen cum before?
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Until talking to Bob Warren I hadn’t realized that every State has its own rules
and expectations about dealing with Sex Offenders: that in each state the terms of the counseling is carefully circumscribed, and the assumptions behind it are (enablingly) codified. I wish I’d known that sooner. Because had I known that, I would have been able to supply more information to my prospective counselors— so that they would not have started out assuming I’m supposed to be in one of their machines. Damn. That’s typical.
But that each state has its own “assumptions” should not have surprised me— had I thought about it before. After all, one would think the states necessarily see things differently, since the laws themselves differ markedly from state to state. In Nevada, for example, prostitution is legal: so would the state of Nevada assume that patronage of prostitutes equates with sexual addiction— and therefore mandates treatment? Do you see what I mean?
Continuing on that vein, then, since teenage marriage is permitted in some states,
then I think that for those states, in particular, to suggest that any contact between an adult and a teen must betray this sexual proclivity for that adult is hypocritical and inconsistent—because there the sex counselors would have to justify themselves with “assumptions” contrary to law.
Oh, but Bob Warren already did that, in Colorado, didn’t he?
. ***************************************
12-15-05
I called Dr. Warren’s voice-mail this morning to cancel the meeting I’d scheduled with Dr. Meyers (His Co-Therapist). I’d already cancelled it in my letter, but I wanted to make sure— given my experiences with PS types— and especially since Dr. Warren is on vacation (as he told me he would be). Then his Office Manager, Marianne, called me back to say that while I’d already signed a release, that downloading and faxing them another one might “expedite” the process…I wondered why that would that be, though? Anyway, I reiterated my cancellation to Marianne. I repeated that until Dr. Warren reads both Dr. P’s report and my own letter, there is no reason for me to see Dr. Meyers. Later she called again, and left another message on my phone. She said that Dr. Warren really wants me to keep tomorrow’s appointment- and that she still wanted that release. So I called her again, and spoke to her answering machine again: I explained that my printer was out of ink, so I wouldn’t be able to return that waiver until early next week. I said that the release Dr. W. already has will have to do the trick. And I reiterated that I still consider that appointment as cancelled.
I got two more messages from Marianne on my phone, before the day was through. On the first one she said that Dr. Warren is adamant about my keeping that appointment- and that for failure to do that he wouldn’t work with me again.
Well that clinched it, for me: I knew that I would not be able to work with that son-of-a-bitch. He has control issues, and I’m sure that if I ever so much as resisted one of his recommendations he’d pull that “won’t work with you” shit on me… Fuck him.
The second message was to relate to me that she had called Dr. Meyers to cancel my appointment, and that Dr. Meyers said that the only way to cancel it was through Dr. Warren. Then she gave me Dr. Warren’s phone number. But I didn’t buy it, and I didn’t call him.
Fuck them: I’d cancelled it more than 24 hours before it was to take place. And I never wavered on that cancellation— even though they pretended it was still up in the air.
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12-16-05
There are no new messages for me on my phone. It will be interesting to see,
however, whether Dr. Warren goes ahead and requests that report from Dr. Pingitore anyway— after he indicated he would not work with me…And after I failed to fulfill his necessary condition. I’m still wondering about that old matter with Stuart Nixon, too— and whether he’d gone ahead and contacted Dr. P. despite a similar ending. Such behavior was poised to reveal itself as the MO of these people.
I just remembered something else Dr. Warren said to me in our face-to-face session. I hadn’t thought it meant anything at the time, which was why I didn’t record it in this account. It was that he’d said that another of the questions on the lie-detector tests would be whether I’d had any alcohol since the last time I had taken the lie-detector test.
I realized that no mention of alcohol had preceded that disclosure, such that once again, it led me to suspect the doctor was making diagnoses without knowing a damned thing. Boy, I’ll bet it will really piss him off again to learn that I don’t drink!
Anyway, that took on significance only yesterday, as I walked past the liquor store with my roll of Christmas wrap— and remembered that Wally had clarified at the “trial” (when I took the PIA)— as a condition of my PIA— that I would be permitted to drink alcohol. I hadn’t asked him to do that, though, nor did I see the point: I haven’t had a drink in almost six years, and despite the enormous pressures of the past two years, I am not inclined to take the habit up again.
But the tenor of Dr. Warren’s assertion led me to believe that another tenet of his treatment plan is that nobody is allowed to drink. Sure, it could be that he would just do that to point out correlations between drinking and child sex ideation, or something of the sort— but I doubted it.
I guessed, rather, that the situation was that even if I wanted to drink, he would get to “recommend” that I do not— and thereby effectively forbid it, I mean. Or maybe I was just getting “all excited about something before I knew what it is” again. Yes: maybe the case was that one of the rights that had been negotiated for me by Wally could still fall to the Doctors “recommendations”. Or maybe Wally had preemptively negotiated for that right with these people in mind! Wally already knew that about these control freaks.
I’m still talking about the Doctor’s right to recommend all kinds of things that I have not agreed to. And it could be that he Colorado program has prohibitions about that of itself. But above and beyond all that was that the doctor’s assertion makes me wonder whether he also “assumes” that everybody in the program is an alcoholic. And that led me to suspect that his program is really akin to a cult. Yes: that’s it! That was what was really eating me: that Dr. Warren with his glib pronouncements and his entitlements and his “recommendations” and his manipulative “assumptions” was just another goddam cult leader. And that all these goddam psycho-sexual counselors fit into the same boat.
I was certain I had hit it on the head then: that these mother-fuckers are cult leaders— with serious control issues to boot. And I refused to join a cult.
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CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
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I’d been suspecting Drs. Maram and Nixon…until it occurred to me that it could have been Judge Mower himself who meddled in my recommendation. Could it really be that the Judge has the final say? Naah… Because if the Judge has the final say, then the whole evaluation and recommendation process becomes a sham— and he Judge becomes the de facto PS Evaluator. But if that is the case, why doesn’t he just cut the bullshit and make the recommendations himself?
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I decided to send another letter to Dr. Maram too. So I did exactly that. He never answered it—as was typical— so I will not belaboring it here. But here are the highlights:
…why would you need to know what I was accused of before administering the test? And…why— for being in possession of this knowledge— would you not have tested for so much more— especially after my putative response to the “boy”?”
…in the glaring absence of those things, surely you cannot fault me for concluding that something is amiss?…Ergo… I believe your evaluation evinced some troubling omissions— and did indeed seem designed to prove exactly that for which I was accused. And it seemed to in fact do exactly that— through a very suspicious route…”
I also took him to task for having asked about a 45-year old man and an 18-year old girl. There I made arguments you’ve already heard— so I won’t repeat them either.
(I espy a small chronological issue here, because the lambaste of PS Counselors informs me that I really wrote that letter only after initially meeting with Dr. Warren).
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12-17-05
The idea that it was Mower who changed my recommendation is losing currency
with me. If it was he, then there was most definitely a misrepresentation of a material fact in my contractual agreement with the state—in my PIA, I mean. And there would be a conflict of interest too. On top of all that is the argument that the good judge is practicing Psychiatry without a license.
All that being said, I am still being referred to the wrong kind of counseling.
I finally talked to Mary A. and set up an appointment for Monday. I can’t wait. Monday seems like a hundred years away. So it’s another long weekend to endure.
There will be lots more of those, though, I’m sure: my struggle still has a long way to go.
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I summarized the evidence I could supply on behalf of Leon:
1) That Corissa had neither seen ejaculate nor ejaculation in six years of abuse.
2) That any “evidence” found in a rape kit could have been put there herself.
3) That she told me she had been with another person too—besides Leon.
4) That she told me what the Prosecutor wanted her to say.
5) That she lies routinely— and that I too testify to a handful of her lies.
6) That she contradicted the Librarian and the Arresting Officer.
7) That she falsely accused me of having raped her.
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In response to my demand, Dr Maram sent me a couple pages of graphs which
supposedly corresponded with my PPG scores. But they were useless to me, for lack of some way to identify the corresponding tapes he had played. He hadn’t even sent me a list of those tapes, as I had requested. In other words, I only got a bunch of graphs with no apparent reference to anything. But maybe by studying those useless graphs I might discern some difference between my estimated scores and the measured ones recorded there. I will do that someday.
HEY: Why would a PPG Evaluator even have tapes in his (library) that feature
those “just the age you like them” things?
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I wrote a letter for Mary Augustyn, to present to her at our first meeting. I thought that course might save a lot of trouble later.
Dear Mary,
Being in a vulnerable and untrusting place in my life, and very much in need of a situation I can trust with a person in whom I can trust, through this arduous legal ordeal, it is important to me that we start out with certain…understandings.
You will see from Dr. Pingitore’s report that he assessed me as having had an “acute depressive episode” on the morning of my transgression, and that he does not find me to have any “true” (whatever that means) tendencies toward the… issue on the table. Those findings resonate with I know about myself as well. It is true that Dr. Maram’s PPG evaluation is a bit more equivocal, with less dogmatic findings there, but I believe I can explain away its inconsistencies to your satisfaction.
You will see as well in that report that my recommendation is not specific, as pertains to particular state programs, or anything of the sort. It only holds that I must see a self-described provider of this service, for either (in or out patient) therapy. That means that you would not be beholden to anyone’s- or to any state’s- agenda. All that being said- and assuming that everything there proves to be as I say it is- as evidenced in my evaluative report, that is- then here are the things that I am asking (as in requesting) that you do, in support of me:
1) To see me just two times a month, in respect to my financial situation. I have no quarrel with hard work, research, or whatever else, in the interim.
2) To not ask me to take any other tests.
3) To tell the court very little about me: only whether I am in compliance or not.
4) To be on my side, and fight for me, in any disagreement about terms, with the court. To consider ME to be your client- and not the State of Utah.
5) Along those lines, to not partake of any dynamics with any representative of the State of Utah which is behind my back- which excludes my knowledge, inclusion, and consent, that is.
6) To allow me to read and comment upon any report that will be submitted to anybody, if it concerns me.
7) To not take the tack (make the assumption) that I am dangerous, predatory, and/or a sex addict, etc. etc.- unless it really proves warranted.
To understand that I will likely be skeptical of anything called an assumption: for you to not consider any challenge to such things as a non-cooperation.
9) To understand that I am a fan of psychotherapy, as evinced by my history- but that I believe regular psychotherapy (again) is what’s really warranted here.
10) To understand that my hostility is a legitimate reaction to perceptions of disproportion and dishonesty- but that my enthusiasm is genuine as well.
I request that you do all of those things commencing immediately, and to honor
them until such time as anything I said shows itself to be misrepresented- which it won’t.
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My first meeting with Mary Augustyn went better than I could have hoped for!
We spoke about many things, but most memorably about Bob Warren. I told her about my experience with him. I characterized him as a Cult Leader— but she assured me that he is not. She said she’s worked with him before, and that he is “okay”. It wasn’t a ringing endorsement of “okay”, though, but more of a lukewarm one: more like an “eeeh”— a grudging “okay”. In any event she explained that his demeanor comes from years of working with sexual offenders— most of whom are liars. Well that may be, I rejoined— but nevertheless his approach puts off those of us who aren’t.
Little did I suspend then that many psycho-sexual counselors are liars too!
She invited me to join her Wednesday night Domestic Violence Group, insisting that “many of the dynamics are the same”. I didn’t know what dynamics she was talking about, though—especially since I hadn’t been accused of violence or coercion— but her group sounded okay with me regardless. Hell: it was either that or undergo Dr. Warren’s voodoo-aversion therapy, and sit around with a bunch of guys talking about their child-sex fantasies.
The commitment to her group was to be for nine months, and would cost 40 bucks a week. Both those terms seemed reasonable too. Of course, I didn’t know how it would square with my one-year recommendation, nor with my new allowance to break my counseling stint in half. But I accepted, nonetheless. Those other problems would work themselves out.
She told me I could start right away, and I said that was fine. But I told her I’d have to miss one of the January meetings already: I’d be going back to California— for my mother’s 75th birthday.
Only then did she read my letter of requests— and she was very responsive. But
not every one of the items would go my way. She said that meeting twice a month would probably do me very little good, for one thing. But that point had been nullified anyway, by her weekly “group” proposal. And she said while additional tests are a possibility, that mostly they would only be substance-abuse related, and only then if she smelled alcohol on my breath (Hmm)**. She said that her files on me are open to my inspection at any time— but that if I wish to comment upon then, that she would charge me for her time (I chuckled). She assured me that she does not make those assumptions (about predation, etc., as I detailed), but rather that she looks for the good in everyone. Finally, she told me that she understands the skepticism, and understands my yearning for control.
I was satisfied by her responses. And I trusted her— which counts for a lot. So I thought I’d found the counseling situation I was seeking!
I wanted to say to Utah: “It’s either this arrangement or come and get me”.
I hoped I would not have to say that though…But I still had to get it past my censors… and many other things could still go wrong.
** (So there was that alcohol thing again… Maybe sobriety was mandated by the Colorado programs).
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12-20-05
I took a long nap this evening. I was enormously relieved— but also mentally exhausted, after having that unresolved counseling burden lifted from my shoulders. The nap was interrupted by a rap upon my door. In my semi-conscious stupor I called out “just a minute”, and got up and turned on the light. Then, after fumbling about for my glasses, and still in my underwear- I flung open the door. Standing there I was greeted by the smiling visage of one of Breckenridge’s finest. Yes: a cop- and one who looked remarkably like Mark Fisher. My first thought was that I had run afoul of my PIA, and that he had come to take me away! Fuck- things always happen when you least expect it.
But then he announced that he was merely looking for someone named Bob. He thought someone by that name might live in my room. But I assured him he did not.
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12-21-05
I called Mary Augustyn this morning to ask if I could start the group the week
after next instead: the first Wednesday in 2006, that is. I explained that by the time I got to work the day I’d seen her, that next week’s schedule had already been posted. She said that that was fine. Then I asked her if she’d gotten that stuff from Wally yet, and she said that she had not. She still needs the PS evaluation and recommendations too. But she’d already sent him a letter of request for it, she said. I thanked her and hung up.
After that I went to the library. While I was there, I checked my e-mails. I had one from Wally, which as usual made my stomach leap. This time was no exception.
He said he’d received my latest “tri-yearly” report to the court, and that it was very disturbing— but that out of deference to my request he’d not respond to it until January, as I had asked. And he said he’d gotten a request from Mary A. for all the usual stuff: police reports, PS reports, etc. He asked if I wanted him to send it to her and I responded yes. Then he said that my reports to the court are due only every four months— instead of every three (thus the claim to the tri-yearly reports!). I knew that wasn’t true, though. But it meant he hadn’t forwarded the bitter report I’d sent to the court via him, this month.
Anyway, I responded. I told him that I had calmed down quite a bit, and that I thought that I would “make it” after all. I also told him about Mary: that she is qualified in the area that was specified, and that my participation in and commitment to her group should satisfy everyone. In closing, I added “I hope nobody f—— with his”.
I was encouraged by his e-mail, however, because the mere fact that it was the first time he’d asked for my permission to forward that information suggested two things:
1) That no one else has requested that stuff before— at least not since Dr. Pingitore.
2) That I have not yet run afoul of anything, that would render the forwarding of that material moot. Phew!
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Christmas must have been of very little note, in 2005, since even my journals do
not say anything celebratory about it. Perhaps it was joyless. I’m sure I called my family though— because I always do on Christmas. And I know I got some books and cakes in the mail— along with Christmas cards.
What was more noteworthy, though, that Christmas— both in my notebooks and in my memories— was the flood of memories of old dreams that had started coming to me. The memories were mostly just fragments of dreams— but the dreams themselves stretched back as far as forty years. What was more, they announced no clear rhythm nor reason for their re-visitations. But after I’d noted their swarming announcements of themselves, and opened my mind to their recall, it was amazing how fecund that field of memories was. Then they came to me all the time.
I started recording them in late November, and by Christmas I had recorded over 100 of them. Through it all I fantasized that some sort of rebirth was occurring too— like some sort of post-traumatic re-configuring of my brain. It was exciting. Meanwhile, I kept waiting for a coalescence: for a unifying theme to reveal itself. Unfortunately, that coalescence still hasn’t come.
