This is stream of conciousness stuff...whatever comes int my mind next gets typed:

I have a wonderful son who is 38 going on 3. He is a loving, caring and empathetic individual who has, for almost three years, sent us $150.00 out of every paycheck because he knows we're having hard times financially and he loves us.

He is also a psychotic jerk whose anger can go from zero to mach 3 in less than a second. I've never worked in anger management; those people **** me off. Anyway my son is a Republican. Let me rephrase that: he's a Republican.

If Barney ever betrays George Bush; ever says "it's time to get the Hell out of Iraq", my son will be there to take his place. George will never stand alone.

I'm not a Democrat. I can't vote for anyone who supports abortion. If the world were about to be engulfed in nuclear war and the only thing that could prevent it was my vote for a "pro-choice" candidate, get ready to meet your Maker.

I am a radical. I opposed the war in Viet Nam. I was the spokesperson for an organization that opposed the war. One that happened to be based in Chicago before and during the 1968 Democratic National Convention. We ceased to exist on day 2 of that convention, when the State of Illinois filed warrants charging officers in our organization with everyting from inciting to riot to picking our noses in public. We decided that leaving Illinois was preferable to prison.

Anyway, you can see how there might be some conflicts of opinion over king george, Iraq or any of a number of things where my views collide with those of Republicans; and more importantly, with those of my son.

If I say something that I think is totally non-controversial; like 'Nobody will assasinate Bush because they know Cheney would get the job", I don't expect anyone to react by screaming that I have no respect for him; that I have made it clear that that I think Republicans are evil so I must think he's evil to so maybe we just shouldn't talk to each other anymore.

People don't over-react like that. But my son does.

Dolphin, I'll take the 12 year old plus any pre-teen of your choice, plus, of course your beautiful baby, if you'll take Sean. Hell, I'm ready to trade him for the 12 year old and the preteen without the baby. He is driving me insane.

For the last 36 hours or so I have really been having fun here. Marks thread to Artist was pure genius, even though no one could have predicted it would go where it's gone. I love where is's gone and can't wait to see where it's going next. So do many others; the number of replies and hits in this short span of time proves we want to be happy. We want to play.

And right this moment, after just finishing a conversation with my son, all the joy of something new and fun has been ripped out of me. I feel like I did when my mother sent me to live with my grandparents because she just couldn't stand watching her husband abuse me anymore. "Mommy, why do I have to go? Why not get rid of the bully?"

You guys have been there for me throughout the whole period when I was trying to find a way to want to live after learning the number and extent of my wife's infidelities. You didn't ask me why I didn't just leave her. You somehow understood that if I could have done that I would have done it three years ago, when the facts started coming out. You let me talk and didn't criticize me. That's exactly what I needed: Friends.

Now I'm going through this with my son. I could just tell him to ****-off, and many fathers would, and people would understand; sometimes you have to save yourself.

Last night I was working on an article for my website, glancing once in a while at Marks thread for a booster humor shot, and telling myself that I am finally on the right track. This time I'm writing something people will read. I felt as good as I've felt in a very long time. Now I feel like home-made ****.

I hope that writing this will help pull me out of this hole. I know I can go back on Paxil, but if I do that I probably won't be able to write; not like I have been. Paxil puts the fire out, and I need that fire.

So, there's nothing you can do or say to help me. I have to make my own trail. This post is exploring that trail. As a psychotherapist, I know that just writing words down isn't enough. You have to say those words to other humans that you know care about you.

So that's what I'm doing. Talking about my pain to people who care: You. I hope it works. I hope it works right away. I want to post on Mark's thread again...Vic