This is a tough post to write. I’ve wrestled with this for a while, whether to write it or not. I fear it may be disturbing to some – but I need to talk about it with somebody other than my wife.

Maybe someone here will identify or take something helpful away from it. As for me I’m just not sure what to do with all of this. My fear is that if I don’t do something with it, it is going to “hide out” in the back of my mind somewhere and then “come out” in some un-Godly horrible way and in the worst place and at the worst time.

Names are changed. If sexual topics, child abuse or criminal topics are triggers for you please do not continue reading.

In February, we found out that my twelve year old daughter, Nina, was involved in a full-on, adult, sexual relationship with her step-father Matt.
I have two kids, a boy who is 15 named Andy, and my daughter Nina. Their Mother, Heidi, and I never married, but were together for seven years. We parted ways after seven years back in 1999 when she met Matt.

The breakup was really devastating for me – not so much because Heidi and I had a great relationship (it wasn’t) – but because of the kids. Matt moved in the house with Heidi and the kids right away and this was extremely difficult for me. My kids calling someone else daddy was too much. Maybe sometime I'll talk about my own childhood and it will be clear why.

I went off the deep end in a number of ways (I’ll spare you all the details) – career wise I zoomed up and up. But; personally and socially – emotionally – morally – financially – I completely bankrupted myself.

My downward spiral and associated shenanigans led me into a place where I committed a sexual offense (not violent, but plenty wrong just the same) of my own. Something I take full responsibility for – but in all fairness must place a heap of blame on this illness (bipolar I) – undiagnosed at the time – and associated stress and substances. The victim was my daughter – the same one who six years later was abused, some might say raped, by her step father.

I realize that some people will never be able to accept me – regardless of what I do, or how hard I try to be sincere, make amends, or be a better person. I understand this. It is a terrible thing. The most I ask is that people look at the real me – the one who has been sober for six years, the one who never cheated on his wife, the one who never lies, and the one who has taken full responsibility for the past and is determined to make the future better. If you feel a personal responsibility to tell me how reprehensible or unconscionable my past action was – or the need to tell me I am a monster – please save your breath. You are entitled to your opinion. God bless you, but I’ve heard it too many times already. In fact, I’ve already punished myself more than you ever could.

Change focus. After this happened, I was filled with a flood of many, many different kinds of emotion. I was, of course, concerned about my daughter. I wondered how she would ever recover from this. I wondered how she would be able to deal with having had two fathers who crossed this boundary.

At the same time, as upset and angry as I was, I also had empathy for the step-father. I knew, all to well, what a living hell his life was going to become… Prison is the least of it. Try finding a place to live or a job as a registered sex offender. Not fun. Keep looking over your shoulder, because there are folks in the neighborhood who do not want you there.

We also found out that the step father was buying sexual toys for both kids.
Of course ALL of this made the evening news, the papers, etc… News trucks were pulled up outside the house. Everyone was scared to death. Some of the channels responded to reason when we explained the age and impact to the victim - and backed off. Others refused.

There wasn’t much I could do. My wife has had a lovely relationship with my daughter over the years and a great deal of healing had happened. My wife was like a bridge between my daughter and me -and managed to repair a great deal of the damage that had been done. In addition, my wife and I may be the only healthy marriage that my kids have ever been witness to. Then this happened. This guy, Matt, who had a ring side seat to all of this – the abuse I was prosecuted for, the legal action, the two years of court dates, the plea, the registration, the humiliation… he was right there to witness all of that… all of this pain we all endured… and he went and did it himself. It is times like this I have a hard time believing in god.

Heidi, the mother, is not ‘touchy feely’. She’s a tough customer. Self employed small business owner, black belt, former model… has her good qualities, but is essentially all about herself and looking out for numero uno most of the time. It took a great deal or urging by me, my wife, and other parties that she get herself, my daughter, and my son into counseling. They finally are.

At this point, my daughter doesn’t want anything to do with me, which is fine… She can have all the time she wants. She also wants nothing to do with my wife, whom she had a very special relationship with. This has been very hard on my wife. My daughter is showing signs of bipolar disorder in addition to possible dissociative personality issues. She goes from the quiet, sweet kid she has always been to a mean kid who can kick the tar out of her much larger 15 year old brother.

Heidi has a new boyfriend already. She has taken to going out all night and leaving my son, daughter, and their 6 year old half sister home alone with my son in charge. This is insane.

My son, who has ADHD issues, but is very bright and does very well when he is taking strattera (his mother doesn’t believe in meds), has always had behavior problems. We recently found out he was smoking pot.

He’s developed the ability to lie with incredible ease. Recently $2000 went missing in the house. It was his mother’s till from her business for the weekend. The local state trooper investigated the case. My son was staying with me at the time. He called me and said he needed to speak to my son. He wanted me to bring my son in for questioning, but not tell him where we were going. I took a day off from work and brought him in. The cop told me he thought my son had taken the money. My son denied it, most convincingly, and the cop and I were both convinced he mustn’t have taken it. It turns out he did. Apparently the cop paid him another visit at my mother’s house and managed to get him to confess.

I have been there for my son. I have talked to him. I have explained myself, why things are the way they are. I chose to believe him on this when nobody else did. I was going to help him itemize all the things he has spent money on since the theft, with all the money he has earned – so he could prove that he hadn’t bought things with stolen money.

I feel devastated. I guess many people might say I don’t have a right to be devastated about anything since the mistake I made six years ago. But regardless of the past, I am still their father. This stuff DOES hurt me. I know people say this and don’t mean it, but when I say my life has changed and that I’m a different person it is true. I can even tell you exactly why it is true and tell you exactly what has changed.

I thought for sure that suicidality was a thing of the past for me. I’d think about it from time to time, but then I’d think about what an incredible and final f*** you this would be to everyone. I’d think about my wife – and I’d get over it. Or, as in the past, I’d call my PDoc and go inpatient if necessary.
Well at the beginning of May, my PDoc added Klonopin to my cocktail. The dissolving cherry flavored wafers. I was already taking 4 or 5 mg of Ativan a day. I immediately liked the Klonopin a whole lot. I started skipping work, sitting home, and popping benzos .

About four days into this I’m sitting home alone, skipping work, and the kid’s mother calls me. She screams at me and tells me to control my wife. My wife asked my son to keep track to the times she was going out and leaving them at home. Heidi was furious. I didn’t know what to say. I got off the phone and felt so upset, depressed and miserable that I got up out of my chair; went to the kitchen and poured all my meds into a bowl. I swallowed all of it chased with a glass of water. The only *only* thought I had prior to doing this was that this might be the last day I would have to deal with any of this. I know it was terribly selfish, but that’s where I was.

My wife came home from work early that day. (interesting, no?) She found me unconscious on the bed with the dog licking my face. She called the PDoc and managed to wake me enough that I begged and pleaded with her not to call the ambulance. She did and it was touch and go through the night. I came around and then they shipped me up to another hospital. I was there for ten days and it totally sucked, but that’s another story.

I came off the benzos in the hospital and went through some of the most raw, emotional stuff I’ve ever experienced. Life flashbacks. Intense moral inventory. Really deep stuff. I realize now that a lot of it was probably because all the tranquilizers were gone… so my brain was forced to deal with a ton of junk that had been being held back.

I partly see the ‘cause’ of this hospitalization as me not having dealt with what happened to my daughter. I felt guilt. I felt horror. I felt sad for my daughter. I wanted to kill the step father. I felt sorry for the step father. I had no idea what to do with any of this.

I had reached out to the phd who leads the men’s group I was in, but he told me it would be $400 an hour. As I emotionally unraveled over the following weeks he told me I was ‘too big a presence’ in the group. I got so angry and frustrated I finally asked him what he had done that they would give him a PhD. I don’t go to that group any more…

The hardest things right now are that my wife isn’t speaking to my mother (long story), the kid’s mother isn’t speaking to my wife, my daughter isn’t speaking to me or my wife, my son has admitted to larceny and having lied about it – to me – the only person who believed in him, and I found out my boss’s is boss is gunning for me now at work and they are watching every move I make. I won’t go into all those details – but it’s a whole lotta stuff indeed.

Well, I think that’s enough. I’m sorry for having rambled on so – I hope it wasn’t too unfocused.

I’m not sure what to do. I guess it would help to have someone say I’m doing the right thing… or that I’ve tried my best under the circumstances.

T