The Rhyme of Calypso's Son

I really have to stop and think. What happened to me makes me sad, which is followed by crying, followed by anger and then followed by the need to get even. I don't like that. I don't like how I feel. How do I feel after this episode or revisiting this episode in my life. To know that I am now permantly scarred with that event… Working with her and under those conditions-- abusive, painful, and just so self demeaning. It has been two years now since I have left NCSSM. I should be happy working on my Ph.D. with my son on the way in less than a few months and a wife who loves me 75% of the time-- well she loves me but can't stand my finicial philisophy. But I am not happy when I think about my NCSSM case. I am not happy about the fact that I went through hell, I mean psychological trauma that the state of North Carolina doesn't recognize. I still have nightmares sometimes about this and it just sickens me. The fact that someone invaded my mind, my peace of mind and no one even recognized my torture. It was like I was raped, but it wasn't a rape that was sexual but psychological.. Now how does one rape an individual psychologically? That's a pretty damn good question. My experinece I think supplys the pretty damn good answer. I like to think of it as my baptisim by fire. I think I would have prefered to have gotten shot in the face some days because there would at least be some type of physical reminder of what happened to me. In the world in which we live in, the physical scars will at least heal with time, physical intervnetion, and with the aid of a few dollars, a new face, a new extermity, a new body part can be created. But the psyche is vastly different. You just can't go out and buy a new set of expeiences, a new psychological profile a new idendity -- at least on the white market anyway. But being Calypso's son somedays, I have to seek new, inovative and cereative ways to survive in the face of adversity. Inspite of my best attemtps, those scars will never go away. No amount of psycotherapy will ever make me for get what happened ot me and in hindsight, maybe I am not meant to forget them. Maybe what happened to me was supposed to happen to me. Menatally tourture and all. Maybe I was suppose to be the one who brings this matter to the forefront for discussion.. Maybe I was meant to tell this tale of woe very much like the tale of albatross in Rhyme of the Anchient Mariner so in hopes those who do face instances of what happen to me, they will be better perpared not have it happem to them. Evidently, this appears to be the case. And since that is that, I had better get use to the fact that I have to spin this yarn in its interity. With that said……. This is my curse, this is my fate, this is my destiny, this is my story…..