Dear Traitor

Section Ten

I was now a threat. Since I could see through you, I was suddenly evil. Because God revealed your true character to me, I had to be crazy. Loving you made me the villain. I was in the wrong. There was no other exception. You messed with my mind, screwed my thoughts. I was the rebellious daughter, and you were the caring dad. Those were the only roles you allowed us to play. You wrote the script, and I just had to play along. I had no say in anything. My opinions meant nothing. I just had to fake the part. No questions were asked.

At one point, you took me to two different therapists. You must have persuaded yourself that I was the psycho one, thinking that therapy may help. At thirteen, you took me to a male therapist, where you sat in the room with me and expected me to talk. I do not remember anything that happened at that session. All I remembered was not feeling safe. Then, you took me to a woman therapist. Her session still scars me until this day.

I had no idea then, but you were not taking me to a therapist to help me, since you said you would keep taking me until I "became better". Instead, you wanted me to talk to the therapist about why I did not like you or going to your house. You then would go to the therapist to ask what I said about you to further "prove" that my mother was manipulating me.

Do you see the irony?

You called this lady a therapist, but honestly, I do not know what she was. I need therapy from the therapy I do suspect. It was truly traumatic.

The "therapy" session was at her house. Inside her living room, there was this huge glass coffee table. A real sword and a real axe were sitting on top of the glass table. They were not props, because I touched them. They were made out of real metal. Around the walls were pictures of Jesus, or at least what people thought he looked like. The sword and the axe also represented something biblical apparently. However, I had such an odd feeling when I walked inside. I brushed it off as anxiety, but I think I sensed another spirit.

A demonic spirit.

That trauma session was several hours long. I confessed everything it seemed like. The lady was actually creepy to say the least. She showed more empathy towards me more when I told her I found out about the divorce in a Mexican restaurant than when I told her you told me you wanted to kill me. (I'll come back to that later). She barely even knew me or my story, but maybe she thought she did. Perhaps you fed her lies about me. Perhaps you schemed this entire session as a part of your plan to get me to talk. Whatever the case may be, the lady assumed my quiet nature was the result of rape. She asked me in a soft and eerie tone: "Who touched you?" I was perplexed by what she meant by that, as I was only thirteen and extremely callow. I did not understand, so I said no one. She might have said many other things that were alarming, but that is the only thing my mind is willing to remember.

Towards the end, I began rolling my neck around just to stretch it out. She asked if my neck hurt, and I mistakenly told her yes. She then reached into a drawer, and I presumed she was going to pull out a thing of medicine. Instead, she revealed to me a tiny vial of oil. She explained how back in Bible days that they would pour oil on people's heads to heal them. She put some on my ear lobe with her ice-cold fingertips and even rubbed some on my thumb. I have seen pastors in different churches pour oil on people's heads to pray over them, but this-

This felt so terribly wrong.

Also, the Bible says for the elders of the church to pour oil on people's head. The word "elders" means preachers. That woman was not a preacher, and we were not in a church.

She then began to "pray" for me, though I don't recall her ever speaking the name Jesus. After that, she asked if my neck still hurt. I told her yes, though I should have said no. She tried to "pray" for me again, and to get her to stop, I lied saying my neck felt better. However, the third time was bizarre. She pressed her cold hands to my cheeks, and her face was only centimeters from mine. She stared directly into my eyes as she proclaimed over and over again for an "evil spirit" to come out of me. My stomach began turning flips. I could not move. I felt paralyzed. I was also afraid to say no. Remember, you taught me that speaking up for myself and setting boundaries with an adult was an abomination.

Also, not once did she say "in Jesus name". Therefore, does she just think she can cast a demon out of me without the power of Jesus? That sounds like blasphemy to me.

I did not know it at the time, but I was very much violated and had every right to tell her to back off. She had tried to cast a demon out of me, one that was never even there. My question is why did she come to the conclusion that something was evil inside of me.

What did you tell her, Brutus?

There is no way you just told her "my daughter needs help". I know you have a way of twisting your words to make situations sound ten times worse than they actually are, like the time you told everyone my mom was forcing me and Hope to wear robes and cast spells.

Dude- we went to Universal Studios! There are censors on the tips of our wands that make things move around the park. It called technology, not witchcraft.

Well, thanks for your "help", because I was assaulted.

I felt disgusting when I got into your truck, possibly even dizzy. You had asked me what me and the lady talked about. First of all, in no way are you supposed to ask someone what they and their therapist discussed, although quite frankly she was not a therapist. Normally with teens, therapists will have you sign a confidentiality agreement in order for them to have privacy, since it is important for teens to have their own identities and space. However, you probably did not have to sign anything. Therefore, you could argue that you had the legal right to my privacy, but legal and moral are not in the same category.

I have actually been reading online articles about privacy rights for minors. On apaservices.org, it reads this: "If they (the divorced parents) become involved in divorce proceedings, for example, a parent might try to revoke the agreement (to be prohibited from looking at the minor's mental health records) in order to get information from the child to use against the spouse". So, it is a common occurrence. I also suspect you were trying to gain information about why I no longer wanted to visit your house, as I mentioned previously.

To summarize this, you would ask me why I did not want to see you, try to guilt trip me into wanting to see you, then acted surprised when I quit opening up. Then, to solve this problem, you would use this sick psycho to pretend to be a therapist but actually be one of your little weapons.

Also, I feared telling you about the lady touching me. I knew you would never believe me. I knew you would take her side. This theory was proven when you discovered the YouTube video of me retelling this story. I told it before I read my journal entries, so it's a little inaccurate. However, it has the same theme. You told Hope that you did not believe and complained that I never told you this before. If I had told you then what you know now, you would have gaslit me, lectured me, and denied what I went through.

I did not want to be lectured. I wanted to be loved.

When I replied to your question with "I don't know", you became inflamed, saying you would go ask the lady yourself.

I regretted telling her anything. Thankfully, I never went back. You did not think I was fixed. You just got tired of paying for therapy.