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A little over a year ago, I got together with my girlfriend who is in my life now. She is actually my fiancee. I proposed to her less then 24 hours after meeting her, and she thankfully said yes.
At the time I met my girlfriend, my life had been destroyed. I had been harmed and betrayed by anyone I ever cared about and loved in my life. At that time we began our relationship over a year ago, I was suffering from significant depression, apathy, and flat affect.
So, after I proposed to Carol, we continued to speak for hours every day. In February of this year, I moved near where she now lives. Since then, our relationship has progressed and deepened- well beyond anything I could of imagined. Somehow, she has mended the dark intrinsic state I had for years quite well, and thoroughly.
I make Carol laugh daily, and I clearly have the ability to love her with all of my heart and soul. Even though we speak every day often, I still hand write Carol a letter, and mail that to her house, once a week. Occasionally, Carol writes me back a handwritten letter. This is the latest letter I got from Carol. I'm very glad she allowed me in her life, and apparently, I'm doing as much good for her as she is doing for me:
Hey my love,
Can you believe I got a pen and paper and I'm actually writing you a letter? Surprise/surprise.
Today, I took my mom to run some errends. We stopped at a few grocery stores to buy stuff for the holidays. I helped her pick out a turkey. She said she hopes you like turkey, because it's a 14 pound bird. I am glad she invited you for Christmas day as well. She is not sure will join us for dinner then.
I can't believe we did not argue, my mother and I. Wonders never cease to amaze me, LOL. We got along very well. I helped her get what she needed. She even bought cat food for my pussies.
I talked to my daughter Julia's couselor, Mr. Bushman, today. Glad to know Julia isn't the only one having issues in school. I am happy to know that her teacher sees it and together her counselor and teacher are working together to remedy this situation. And this is public school? We talked a lot about Julia and he sees too that it isn't just her who is dealing with the mean girls at her school. He said great things about Julia, and how well of a student she is. That made me very happy. I am glad she goes to a school where teachers want to work with kids who have issues with other students.
I'm happy they added another day to your work schedule. I am hoping you can get 40 hours in this week. I need to go to Milwaukee to drop off paperwork for my background check with my new job. Maybe I can see you afterwards. That would be splendid.
I cannot wait for you to join us at David and Yvonne's house on black Friday. You will have a great time. I just know it. They like to eat, drink, and play various money games. One of the games cost only 75 cents to play, and it is called left, right, and center. What's nice is that anyone can play, so usually there is like 15 people playing at one time. So you have a chance of winning over 10 dollars in the pot. Cool, huh?
I don't say this much, but I sure hope you moving to Milwaukee turned out to be good for you. I know it too some time, but I think things are slowly but surely going in your direction. I just wish you could get more hours at work, but at least soon you may get your own housing. When you do, you must have a house warming party, and you must consummate your place. Hee hee!
Thank you again for being in my life, Dan. You would not believe how happy you have made me. I know I don't always show it, but you mean the world to me. I hope you stay with me FOREVER. But for now, I must pause until I can resume writing you once again. My turn today to pick up the kids from school. I love you very much Dan, and again, THANK YOU,
A few years ago, I experienced a very bad divorce. In that divorce, my ex wife initiated parental alienation. I have a young teenage daughter now, who hates me, and is very angry with me, due to lies told to her about me by her mother and others.
My daughter does not wish to contact me in any way. Yet I still hand write my daughter once a week, and mail these letters to her to my ex in law's house, since I have no idea where my own daughter lives now. In these letters to her, I never mention her mother, and always write her with words that express love and softness, as well as innocence.
In time, my daughter will discover the truth about me, and what happened to our family. Meanwhile, I have to deal with the pain of being without my daughter.
To deal with the pain I continue to experience, I write my daughter. This helps greatly with this devastating intrinsic pain I have, due to the absence of my daughter in my life. Here is my latest letter to my daughter Hayley:
Hope all is well with you.
Not much is new with me. I finally got a job with American Greetings. I got this job lead on a website at a place called Dryhootch. We take apart and install greeting card displays in stores. It is hard work, but I enjoy what I do, and I work with nice people. The people I work with are all older then me. So i'm the one doing all of the heavy lifting and everything. We also travel to different places all the time, and I really enjoy these trips.
My girlfriend Carol got me a really nice phone recently. Not that you would ever call me, but the phone number is: 262-748-0302. It also has internet and all, this phone I now have.
When I'm not working, I'm usually helping out people where I now live. Most are older then me, and most have various health issues. So I'm happy to help them out in a lot of different ways. Sometimes, just talking with these guys helps them out a lot, I feel.
If I'm not doing that, I'm usually on the computer where I live. Carol and I chat on facebook and gmail all the time. And I'm always reading news and all, on the computer. Also, I find out wherre my essays are being published. One day, what I've written will become an actual book. But I have to write some more before that happens. Also, I listen to something interesting on youtube, while I'm on the computers where I live now.
Aside from my many friends where I live now, I also see Carol about once a week or so. She will come here, and we usually go to the dryhootch coffee house, which is really comfortable. When I have money, I usually take Carol out to lunch.
And sometimes, I go over to Carol's house. She lives with her mom, who is a very nice lady. I love talking with Carol's mom. And I'm very glad I moved up here in Wisconsin earlier this year, so I could continue to care for Carol the best I can. I feel I'm doing a great job so far, taking care of Carol. And I know she is mending me in a lot of different ways, since I needed to be repaired in a bad way, I feel. But I'm still thankfully quite alive, and I'm happy about that.
Anyway, that is all that is new with me. Of course, I'd love to hear from you in some way. You are in my thoughts often, and I continue to love and miss you very, very much,
As of today, Iíve been homeless for three years.
My father died last year, and left me over 11 thousand dollars, with a life insurance policy. To a broke and homeless person, that is quite a fortune.
With that money, I bought some dentures for this girl I was caring for in Indiana, and I gave some money to the man I lived with in Indiana, who died last May. The girl I rescued from Atlanta last year. She was homeless there, as I was. The man we were living with I met online, and he invited us to come live with him there. Also with that money, I bought a very beat up truck.
In July of last year, impulsively, I left a note for my friends in Indiana, letting them know I was leaving. I left some more money for them, and told them I was driving back to Missouri, to attempt to mend severely fractured relationships with those I have loved the most in my life. My family lives in Missouri, and my daughter.
Soon after beginning this trip, I was pulled over by a police officer, for an expired plate on the truck, along with dysfunctional tail lights on this truck. The police officer could of arrested me for an outstanding warrant I had in Missouri. Instead, I told him my story about my trip back home to hopefully see my daughter. He let me continue my journey back to Missouri.
I arrived in my home town in Missouri that night, and checked into a hotel. The next day, I sent an email message to my own family members, as well as the family members of my ex wife. I made them aware I was back home, and I desperately wanted to mend relationships with anyone willing to mend their relationship with me. I also let them know I very much wanted to see my daughter, as I had not seen her in two years.
The day following that email message to them, they had me followed to a library in that town I was at. I was arrested at that library, due to an outstanding warrant I had in the state of Missouri. There was a 2000 dollar cash only bond on this warrant. Fortunately, at the time of my arrest, I had over 5000 dollars cash on me at the time. The police officer who arrested me was quite pleased I had this money on me. He realized I was set up by others with this arrest, and did not want to throw me in jail.
The police officer took me to the station, and I helped this officer process me out of this police station. While in the booking area of this station, my ex wife called, and spoke with the police officer who arrested me. She wanted to make sure I was unable to pay the 2000 dollar bond. To her surprise, I did pay the bond, which is what the police officer told her.
When I was released from this police station, I asked the arresting police officer to call my ex wife, and let her know I had no intention of harming her, or anyone else. Again, I moved back home to mend relationships, and not harm anyone. He shook my hand, this police officer, and promised to call my ex wife.
Yet I learned later, that after this phone call my ex wife made to this police officer, she was having police escorts wherever she went. She was also having the police patrol her house, and the houses of her family members, due to the fear she had that I was out to harm others.
I finally arranged to see my daughter the beginning of August of last year. We met at a restaurant and the night was not bad, considering all the trauma inflicted on her by her mother and others. We shared some smiles and laughs, but she was very distant with me at this restaurant. She never chose to meet with me after this meeting at this restaurant. I learned soon after this meeting with my daughter that she has a lot of hatred and anger towards me, due to the lies told to her about me by her mother and others.
The next month, I had court for this arrest. My crime was frequently violating a restraining order against me, by writing and publishing essays related to my situation with my ex wife, and so forth. Emailing these essays to my ex wife and her family members violated the restraining order. I did this often, in the past few years. My crime was also violating probation for leaving the state of Missouri.
In court, the judge called me up to the stand. The judge recommended I acquire legal counsel. I asked for a public defender, from the judge. The judge said I could hire my own lawyer with the 2000 dollars he was holding for me. Instead, I chose to defend myself in court that day. The judge seemed elated about this decision I made, and asked me to have a seat in the court.
The female prosecutor soon showed up in the court room. This is the woman who had been assisting my ex wife in destroying me for the past two years. She sat next to me in court, and let me have it for the crimes I committed. At that time, I was facing a manditory 6
"We were train wrecks for different reasons, so we were perfect for each other."
by Dan Abshear
About two years ago, my then wife of 20 years decided to falsely accuse me of violently abusing her. A restraining order was issued against me by her as well, so I was evicted out of my own home. Soon after that, I was arrested related to these false accusations and wrongfully incarcerated for over a month.
While in jail, I spoke with quite a few men who were abused by the family law system. Most shocking to me at the time were those men on their way to prison for failure to pay child support. Most of these men were without income, yet they were convicted of this 'crime."
In April of last year, I spent a week on the mental health ward of the veterans administration hospital in Atlanta, for suicidal ideation, among other mental issues. They determined I was a drug addict, so I checked myself into the veterans administration substance abuse treatment program in May of last year.
After completing the VA substance abuse treatment program, I was homeless once again. The VA has a homeless program for veterans, so I entered this program. They placed me in an apartment with 5 other men, whose lives had been wrecked, as mine had been only two years ago.
Most of the men I encountered and became friends within the VA system were very poor, and older black men. It's a subculture I was completely unaware of, until this program. Many had spent a great deal of their lives incarcerated, and many were drug addicts. However, most of these men are very intelligent, and kinder than your average American citizen.
In less than a year, three of these friends I acquired took their own lives. Their pain quite obviously was equal or greater than the pain I continue to experience due to being destroyed by my ex wife. I continue to miss these friends.
Last Summer, while in this VA homeless program, I met a veteran girl going through the program with me. We were train wrecks for different reasons and therefore perfect for each other. Like me, she is not very attractive, physically, and is homeless, like me, but for different reasons.
This girl, like many of us, has been abused, physically and otherwise, for most of her life. She never had a decent lover/boyfriend, she tells me. I care for her unintentionally in various ways, and she thinks the world of such acts I may do for her. That does it for me- loving and caring for another girl authentically. That completes me. Most men have been programmed to view women, and their roles in our lives potentially, unrealistically.
The VA also has a program for unemployed veterans to work at their hospital for a period of 6 months, tax free. It's under the table money, which this girl and I both desperately needed. So throughout last winter, she and I both worked in this program, and saved a few thousand dollars between us.
During that time, a man I met online in Indiana offered his farm house to us there. Since our time in the homeless program with the VA was soon ending, we took him up on his offer. This is now were we currently live, with this man in Indiana.
We have no idea what tomorrow will bring us. We live day by day here, as we did with the VA homeless program in Atlanta. But we have greater peace now. We have greater freedom. And most importantly, we have each other. It makes each day worthwhile. Without each other, our lives were vacant, I believe. Our live our void of any desirable future- without each other. It's that way with most homeless people, I've discovered. They are alone. Completely alone. This girl and I- we have hope. And hope is a very good thing in the human life always.
The veteran's administration was very good for me in a number of ways. Their hospital was top notch, I felt, as a patient there. I continued to receive mental health therapy from them once discharged from their hospital. As a former patient caregiver myself, I found the caregivers associated with that hospital exceptionable.
I found the substance abuse treatment I received from them quite interesting, which lasted several weeks. My undergrad from college is in behavioral sciences, so I was only aware of such programs from that knowledge only, before entering this program.
They spoke of free will frequently during our daily group sessions- virtually ignoring the biological basis for addiction. That would be the only complaint I have of such a program. Well, that and their insistence that some God can replace our addictions. PLEASEÖÖÖÖ.
I'm also thankful for the VA homeless program, which gave me a roof over my head for several months. They never really helped me get a job, however. Yet, they insisted I somehow
I Married a Lesbian
May 24, 2011
by Dan Abshear
While being married to a lesbian for 20 years was painful, it actually made me a better person.
I met my ex-wife when I was about 14 years old. We grew up in the same small town in Missouri. She and I are 4th cousins as well.
She took an interest in me when I was 21 years old. She called me when I was home on leave while serving in the U.S. Navy. This was the first time I ever had any girl call me for a date. Because of this, I canceled a date I had another girl. We got married three years or so after this first date.
Coming from a rather abusive and broken family myself, I was determined to have a very moral and meaningful marriage with my wife.
My marriage is called a mixed orientation marriage, and millions exist in the United States alone. Most are unknowingly married to homosexual men, and the rest of us are or were married to homosexual women.
I mean, think about it: How do you really know about the sexual orientation of your spouse? Not all of us have gay-dar that is sharp enough to detect such a deception.
However, one thing that should be obvious to any man in my situation is that your spouse is unresponsive to you, sexually and otherwise. As such, I found myself trying to discover why. Her being a lesbian was the furthest thing from my mind, at least during the first few years of our marriage. So I immediately starting asking myself, 'why is my wife, who I loved so much, ignoring me?
Initially, I thought my wife was not attracted to me, physically. She was sexually impotent with me, and this puzzled me. So, I began to exercise very aggressively and intensely. This would include such activities as weightlifting and long distance bicycling.
While rather puny when I got married, I developed into quite a attractive and sturdy young man. This was all to please my wife and gain her affection. I improved my diet and continued these exercise habits until the age of 40.
Since this didn't increase her intimacy toward me, I began to wonder if she wanted me to make more money. The first six or so years of our marriage, I barely made more than minimum wage. We were very poor, and in debt.
So, I somehow became a corporate executive with one of the largest and most respected pharmaceutical corporations in the world. Soon after this, my lesbian spouse and I were set, financially. Unfortunately, this was not the answer to her lack of affection towards me, either.
My last hope at discovering why my lesbian spouse was so apathetic was that I was not treating her the way I should. Now, I was a patient caregiver for about a dozen years- I always thought I was one of the nicest and caring individuals that existed.
But, I was determined to discover why my wife was so emotionally vacant. So, I tried to become a more gentle and effective lover with her. In addition, I tried very hard to assure her of my own love.
I'd kiss her, and really mean it, with my love for her. I'd be very polite with her always- a gentleman constantly. Unfortunately, this transformation did not alter her behavior towards me.
In the years that followed, I noticed my wife taking what I view as an unusual interest in other women. In fact, I would classify her relationships with some other women as intimate. To this day, I do not know if my wife had sexual relationships with those women.
So the year is now 2003, and my wife has yet to acknowledge her homosexual tendencies. We are raising our daughter at this point, so her behavior towards other women was becoming even more of a concern. I insisted that she seek professional help.
She only saw a psychiatrist and therapist a few times. She never confided in me so I visited the same psychiatrist. He told me that my wife was in fact a lesbian, and that it would destroy me in time if I did not divorce her.
It is now the year 2005. At this point, I was not really shocked. By 2006, I had given up on our relationship. Rather than act , I just shut down almost completely. My career ended, and I stopped exercising.
Interestingly, our sex life actually improved a great deal. It appears that my knowing she was a lesbian may have given her some freedom.
I suffered from severe depression and took refuge in prescription drugs. My wife finally ended our marriage - and she did so by falsely accusing me of domestic violence.
When you love something, or someone, you will discover their secrets.
My now ex wife never hated me for anything I ever did to her. In fact, I was a damn good husband and father. She
Updated 18th-September-2012 at 06:43 PM by quiact
The number of actions deemed ďillegalĒ continues to grow. Seen through that arbitrary filter that means more individuals who were at one time ďlaw-abidingĒ are now viewed as ďcriminals.Ē That makes it more and more likely that you will see the inside of a jail cell. (Such a trend will continue unless we each stop believing that words put on paper by some strangers make once unjust actions just.) Many people use the time to reflect. Some, like Dan Abshear who authored the below, share their thoughts and writings with others, acting as both an outlet and a way to personalize the harm caused by unquestioning allegiance to the Statist Quo that allows for the mass caging of humans for profit. -Pete, www.copblock.org
In the fall of 2009, I spent over a month in jail, for the first time in my life. To achieve some level of freedom, I wrote, and I wrote a lot. I composed over 20 thousand words while in jail.
Most of these words were letters to Jacki- a girl I dated 25 years ago, and who I lived with after my release from jail. The living arrangement with her lasted about 6 months.
While in jail, oneís mind becomes altered often. There is great misery, with little hope. My state of mind is reflected in what I wrote while there.The following are the letters I wrote to Jacki, while in jail:
Iím starting to get comfortable here, and this frightens me a bit. Itís just that Iím powerless at this point about progressing my case that resulted in me being here now. I have a court date on October 15th, and I will ask to speak on my own behalf to the judge as well as the prosecutor so I can negotiate with them about my situation. Iím very anxious to start my life again. I will do this as I recover from the trauma inflicted upon me, and as I miss my dear Hayley. Both cause me to experience severe intrinsic, and silent, pain.
This is nothing short of unimaginable hell, as this pain I feel is indescribable- it is in fact worse than any kind of chronic torture I can possibly conceive.
I was chatting with a deaf kid named William here in jail with me. We got here on the same day, and he needs a lawyer as well as me. William may be going to prison for theft.
Iím cutting out words from various magazines on this Friday night to use when I write Hayley the next time. These letters that she and I are doing back and forth are really making me very happy in the midst of great misery.
Itís Saturday morning now, and I just got off the phone with you. Iíll be thinking of your voice all day, and for the days to come. Do not worry about me, please. I can and do take care of myself. Jail is jail. It is not suppose to be enjoyable.
Iíve told my story to more than one here in jail about the circumstances of my divorce. They were surprised at the lack of retaliation for injuries perceived or otherwise.
Many are violent here, of course. This explains why law enforcement dudes automatically presumed that I was violent. Violent because of those who are my fellow inmates now. Many are very mean.
We finally got to go to the library today here in jail. I got some magazines. No dirty magazines here, Iím sorry to say. There is also a law library here in jail, and Iíll request to go to this library soon.
Itís Saturday night, and I called a friend of mine from high school a moment ago. I asked him to contact our other friends from high school to try and get me a legal agent. he and these other friends have had legal issues in the past of their own, and they know legal agents as a result.
Iíll not be able to mail this letter to you till Tuesday. This gives me two full days to continue to write to you, and revise what I write. I tend to do this often.
Iíve felt a need tonight to hold Molly (my ex-wife) and my daughter Hayley, and cry with them. This hate that has infected Molly needs to be treated in such a way. It needs to be cured by love.
Iíll never have my family back again, and I have to learn to live with this. But Iím compelled to fight evil such as this in my life now whenever I possibly can. Always. It hurts.
Itís Sunday morning here in jail, and I just shared some candy with other inmates. This elevated my popularity greatly, cause I really do not fit in here with them, overall.
Justin takes a particular interest with you here in jail, as I speak of you to him often. He is a 25 year old good looking guy, and he is a new dad. His son was born as he is in jail with me.
He witnessed me illuminate when I first heard from you here in jail. And I showed him letters you sent me that I wrote to you way over 20 years ago, which I find incredible, what I wrote.
The following is a continuation of notes I composed
"I think the school staff were man-haters, and resented me because, as a doting father, I upset their prejudices. They thought incest was the only possible explanation for a father's love."
by Dan Abshear
In January 2007, staff at my eight-year-old daughter's public school in Missouri interrogated her for an hour to determine if I had molested her. There was absolutely no reason for them to do this.
I worked out of my home at the time and largely raised my daughter, while my now ex-wife worked. I had established rituals during her school days.
These included taking her to our favorite local doughnut shop in the morning and often bringing lunch to her at school.
During my visits to my daughter's school. I always found the teachers to be very warm and kind people.
However, the administrative staff were rather distant judging by their body language, and their unwillingness to interact with me. They were mostly middle-aged women.
On one unforgettable day, they interrogated my daughter for about an hour. When I picked her up, she was crying.
She said she was asked leading questions such as, "did your daddy ever touch you there? Do you think your daddy likes touching you there?" The answer to such questions was 'no,' of course.
I spoke with her for hours that night, which was difficult for me. In the days that followed, she did not appear permanently scared by that interrogation.
My daughter was completely unaware that parents were even capable of such acts described in graphic detail by school staff.
There was no evidence for these allegations. My daughter was and is a straight "A" student, and an incredibly balanced individual. What caused my daughter's school to make these outrageous charges and traumatize my daughter remains unknown to me this this day.
WIFE BRUSHES IT OFF
Her mother was unresponsive regarding these false allegations.
An expected reaction might have been one of shock and disbelief.
Instead she displayed apathy.
My then wife, who was in fact a radical feminist lesbian, and likely a psychopath, became good friends with the rather attractive female principal of this school in the following weeks.
Her behavior was the first red flag that she posed a danger to myself and my family.
I started to research the legalities and learned that schools get a lot of money from the government for prosecuting fathers like myself, regardless if he is guilty or innocent. I realized that I might go to prison if this situation were not resolved.
So I sent some legally threatening emails to the principal including a threat to sue the school district and contact the media. They dropped it and I continued to have lunch with my daughter at her school.
On one occasion, I returned home to find a police officer waiting for me.
The police officer told me to stop going to my daughter's school, because school staff told the police I had a 'threatening disposition'.
I stopped going. I think the school staff were man-haters, and resented me because, as a doting father, I upset their prejudices. They thought incest was the only possible explanation for a father's love.
Due to her mother implementing parental alienation, I've not see or spoken to my now 13-year-old daughter in almost two years now. On Father's Day, she sent me an email. (Excerpt:"My braces r off and my hairs long. I'm also 5'8 now!!!")
All things considered, she sounded really good. I continue to hand write Hayley once a week, and send her money when I can. Rarely does she write back, but I still continue to write her.
The email absolutely made my day, and decreased my sadness about the absence of my daughter, greatly. I suffer from chronic depression due to my daughter being gone from my life right now
In August of 2009, my wife of 20 years filed false claims against me of violently abusing her one unforgettable day that month.
The restraining order insanely issued against me due to these false claims remains in effect to this day, and likely will for quite some time.
I remain homeless and unemployed due to this viscious act committed by my former spouse.
Molly, my now ex wife, did this in order to acquire a tactical advantage in a divorce she clearly wants that I was completely unaware of until she filed this retraining order against me that prevents me from having any contact whatsoever with my daughter as well, whose name is Hayley.
The pain from this particular strike against me is indescribable.
My wife told her free army of legal professionals that she suspects that child abuse was happening by me against Hayley. This particular claim is far more absurd than the abuse claims Molly made about me, which included a claim by Molly that I tried to kill her one night.
So of course, I ended up in jail in the first time of my 43 years soon after these false allegations were made against me by Molly.The second night I was in jail, I decided to write Hayley a letter.
Now, writing Hayley fractures the restraining order falsely issued against me, since this is contacting Hayley in this manner. But since I was already in jail, I really was not concerned about breaking this abusive enforcement of psychotic laws now against me.
As I wrote her that night, I was not the fun dad I usually am with Hayley due to my state of mind. However, I never wrote anything to Hayley indicating hatred or anger towards her mother, Molly. Nor did I, in my words to Hayley, debate her mother's false accusations against me.
My undergrad is in child psychology, and I learned with my education that it is never a good idea to attack a parent in any way during a split of the parents, which is what is happening with our family right now.
So I wrote to Hayley that I will always love her mother because her mother gave Hayley to me almost 12 years ago. This is the woman who put me in jail.
I also wrote to Hayley that the destruction happening to our family right now is difficult to understand for both of us, but we should try and grasp this situation together in time. I told Hayley with my writing to her that I loved and missed her, and that I hoped she would write me back soon.I mailed this letter to her grandparent's house.
These are Molly's parents, and are very wonderful people who have been married for more than 60 years. They understand the importance of a father in a child's life. I only mailed this letter to Hayley after trading my breakfast the next day in order to get a stamped envelope from another inmate.
Hayley wrote me back soon afterwards, and I was thrilled beyond belief. Yet her letter understandably was cautious. She shared a bit with me about school and her friends.
What really got me was the end of her letter to me: P.S. Daddy- everything is going to be OK, no matter what....
I cried when I read this from her. She understands more than I fully realize about my own frame of mind, and what is happening to our family right now. I shed tears as I recall this that she wrote. She wrecked her father, and this is not the first time.
So my next letter to Hayley was much more jovial than my initial letter to herear Hayley....Hey, guess what? We are pen pals now.....YAAAAYYYYYY!!!!!Then I went on to tell her how cool she is. I discussed what she wanted to be for halloween. I effortlessly made her laugh what I wrote to her in this letter. The words I shared with Hayley came from my heart.
Her next letter to me was much more upbeat. She was thrilled that we were pen pals now. She expressed clearly how happy she was that she was getting mail from her daddy now. This made me comforted greatly. I was at peace with her emotional and mental state now.
The next letter composed by me to Hayley was apparently as enjoyable to her as she read this. The letter included beautiful drawings from Tommy, my cell mate in jail. Hayley put the drawings by Tommy that I mailed to her on her school locker walls, she told me in her writing to me afterwards.
Tommy, my cell mate artist during that time, is a 22 year old homeless guy who was in jail for assault on another adult. He had been homeless for much of his life. And Tommy did have anger issues.
It took me about 2 weeks to gain his trust. Once this happened, I discussed with Tommy more benign outlets for his anger urges, and the importance of thinking before acting. Tommy also has done illegal drugs, so we discussed the impact of such drugs on his health and behavior.
My name is Dan Abshear, and I am a recovering drug addict.
My substance abuse began with alcohol intake, in my early teens. My mother used to insist me and my older teen brother, also a young teenager, party with her, by getting drunk with her.
My mother would give alcohol to us, and my older brother's many young teenage friends, often. This went on for years. My mother, by the way, should have gone to prision for this, as this is contributing to the delinquency of minors, which is a felony. But, thanks to lazy cops and apathetic neighbors, this never happened.
However,I blame myself for my alcohol addiction, and no other. Like many other recovering drug addicts, I have a very addictive personality. That personality contributed to my abuse of substances such as alcohol.
My drinking continued to be heavy until the age of 37 or so. It was then I broke my back, sleigh riding with my daughter. And it was then, a doctor prescribed me vicodin.
Vicodin is known as an opoid analgesic. Opiates have been abused and used by many, for thousands of years (http://redroom.com/member/dan-abshear/blog/the-euphoric-violet-delight). The effect vicodin had on me was amazing.
Because, at least in my case, vicodin not only takes care of physical pain, but emotional pain as well. The drug provided a much wanted and welcomed euphoria in my life.
For those of you who are familiar with the T.V. show, "House". This is what Dr. House abuses, throughout the show.
So, while on vicodin, I stopped drinking, and started exercising intensely. I was able to do this, because I was pain free on vicodin. In fact, I got in the best shape of my life, while I continuously consumed more and more vicodin.
But, within two years, I was a full blown opiate addict. My tolerance increased with that drug, rapidly, so it seemed. I was taking between 10 and 20 high dose tablets a day, at the height of my addiction to this drug.
And, the euphoria I initially experienced with vicodin also faded to the point where it was unnoticeable. But, I kept taking vicodin, because withdrawals were not welcome, when I did not have vicodin in my system.
So, in the year of 2004 now, and I'm at a doctor convention with work. For many years, I did pharmaceutical sales, for very large pharmaceutical corporations. I'm at work with a younger guy, who noticed the tiredness and boredom of myself, and a couple of others, at this convention. This younger guy had some adderall on him, and offered a tablet to me, and a couple of others at this meeting.
Adderall is basically long acting amphetamines, used to treat ADD and narcolepsy. I had heard of the drug before, but never chose to take it. But, since I was a vicodin addict at this point in my life, I thought I would give it a try, and took the adderall pill at that doctor convention.
The effects of adderall were amazing. That night, my mind was at maximum efficiency, I felt. I began to write, and I wrote all night. It was as if adderall awakened these dormant neurons in my brain. I absolutely loved this drug.
It also initially increased my sex drive. While I had a high sex drive already, adderall initially intensified my orgasms. That combined with what I preceived to be maximum cognitive efficiency, I had found a new drug to love.
As with vicodin, I began to increase my intake of adderall as tolerance developed, while high on this drug. Also, with my adderall use, I did not sleep. In time, I started to experience hallucinations.
So I went to my favorite doctor who had been prescribing vicodin and adderall to me, and asked him for some benzodiazapines, better known as tranquilizers.
Benzos, as they are called, work on the GABA inhibitors in the brain- the same area of the brain that is affected by alchohol intake. So while on benzos, not only did I sleep, but I felt like I was drunk on this drug, on this class of drugs, which I also ended up abusing aggressively, of course.
Memory loss was a problem at this point in my life, and benzos made my memory problems much worse.
I'd say, from the years 2006 to 2009, my life is a blur. I recall very little, during this period in my life. This is all do to my enormous drug intake, from these drugs in particular.
My lovely wife at the time wanted me high on drugs all the time. We had marital issues she did not want to address. While high on drugs, I did not address these rather significant issues in our marriage. Because while high on drugs, I stopped caring about anyone, or anything.
She wanted me that way, completely full of these drugs I ended up abusing so badly, so she would go to her own doctor, and get me these drugs I was addicted to quite badly.
Whistles blowers aren't always celebrated.
Sometimes they're crushed.
"There is a pathologically intimate relationship between corporations and the U.S. government- their collusion is expressed in the revolving door. "
by Dan Abshear
In the Spring of 2006, I became a pharmaceutical corporate whistle blower.
In February of that year, I had recruited a law firm with experience in pharmaceutical whistle blower lawsuits in Boston, which is a top place to file and submit pharmaceutical whistle blower cases. They agreed to represent me after I submitted a ten page document to them I composed- explaining why the wrongdoing of my employer, Novartis Pharmaceuticals, needed to be addressed. They represented me on complete contingency, which meant that they would not be paid if they did not succeed in the whistle blower lawsuit they were submitting for me.
The law firm submitted the whistle blower lawsuit against Novartis in April of 2006. And it was filed under seal, which means that I and my legal council cannot discuss the case whatsoever. It's a trick played by the D.O.J., to eliminate the possibility of media contact.
I made a trip to Boston in July of 2006 to be asked hundreds of questions by various relevant government entities, such as the department of health and human services. Also, in the center of a large table in a conference room, was a phone, with numerous attorney generals from various states- all there to hear my answers to the hundreds of questions I was asked one day, for 8 hours. I spoke with complete knowledge of the evidence, and with total honesty.
Novartis hired me at the end of 2001 as one of their many sales representatives. At that time, I had already worked for two of the top pharmaceutical corporations in the world, which were Merck and Pharmacia Corporation. The game is the same no matter which pharmaceutical corporation one may work for as a sales representative.
That game, as a pharmaceutical representative, is bribing doctors: hiring doctors to be on the payroll of the pharmaceutical corporation.
In the years I worked for Novartis, I received above average raises yearly. I received numerous awards from Novartis. I was very well liked and respected. Novartis gave me a company car, I normally only worked half-days. I was viewed as an expert as a pharmaceutical sales representative. I was often asked to train other new sales representatives. This was vocational bliss.
So, why would I even consider reporting wrongdoing by them, if they treated me so well? Was I insane?
In the year 2003, I discovered CafePharma. CafePharma is basically an online venting board for pharmaceutical representatives. Such representatives who post on this board often do so with overt anger and disgust. My uneasiness about bribing doctors was validated by what representatives from many pharmaceutical companies wrote on this board. The money we paid targeted doctors are kickbacks. By paying such doctors, we as sales representatives are violating the federal anti-kickback statute.
As sales reps with large pharmaceutical corporations, the more doctors you acquire n your territory, the more you assure your career with your employer. You are told as nauseum by your employer to seek and pay targeted doctors.
With Novartis, they took things a step further: They sent instructions to their sales force to remind doctors paid by representatives that they are obligated to prescribe Novartis pharmaceuticals whenever possible. This, of course, potentially clouds the clinical judgments of such doctors, and as a result, adversely affects the restoration of health obligated by the health care provider.
The year now was 2004, and I had had enough. I had enough of Novartis threatening the members of their sales force. Each representative was given a promotional budget. Often, this budget was several thousand dollars per month. The unspoken rule was, each representative has to spend all their budget, or else. It was this year I started to read books written by those experts critical of the pharmaceutical industry. I began to become very uncomfortable about the industry I represented.
Also, in 2004, I started to collect evidence in the form of internal documents- accessible only to Novartis employees, and not intended to be viewed by others. Documents illustrating the coercion by Novartis to its sales force to spend their promotional budgets. Documents in the form of