When your hero has to go to jail

In high school I had a teacher who was someone very important and special for me. I often didn't feel emotional support from my home, and this teacher somehow was able to fill the vacancy for that emotional support I lacked. Yes, I took his classes (physics), but much more than that, I sought him out after school hours and talked many things out with him. He was always there for me, honestly.

After high school was over, I kept in close touch with him. I graduated in 1986, and to this day I am still in touch with him. While he was still living on Long Island, each time I went there to visit my family, I'd always make a point to call him and go out for dinner or something, to catch up face to face. There were always emails in the interim. He was one of my heroes, for sure.

The other day, I got a Whatsapp message from my brother. He received it from a friend of his who went to our high school. It was about this teacher. It was a short article, with my teacher's mug shot, saying he has been charged with nine counts of child sex crime charges.

I gasped loudly
I screamed "noooooooooo!!!!"
I clicked on it and read the article
I fell into the couch and cried.
And cried and cried and cried.

Here I am, going through this life-shakingly difficult path in therapy about my own skeletons in my closet, from my childhood sexual abuse, and THIS?!?!!?! One of my heroes, to this very day, brought up on charges of child sex crimes? My world shattered a little bit more that night. I was shattered. I tried to imagine him in this light, and it didn't compute. I couldn't let it be real, but it was there in my face, as real as....life. Maybe he was framed, I thought?

I could barely get myself out of the chair. I could barely catch my breath from crying. The kids were home with me, Robert was at work. I vaguely explained what I was crying about, but the kids didn't know him. They gave me hugs. My kids don't know what I myself am going through at the day center at the psych hospital these days. They know I am getting treated for PTSD, but they think it's from my hospital traumas and having had NF. We are letting them think that. I don't want this seedy underworld stuff in their minds. Not in relation to their mother, anyway.
(and no, they don't read my blog, even though I told them they can)

That night I was plagued with flashbacks from my own young life, it's like a film loop once they get started, I find it almost impossible to stop them. The medicinal Cannabis helps with that. So I got pretty stoned that night. And I took maybe one or two more pills than the prescription directed, so I could get to sleep. When my PTSD is up, as we well know, I don't sleep. As it was, with all the pot and extra meds, I still didn't sleep much that night, I listened to an audio book all night. That is one of my ways to stop the loop of flashbacks. My alarm did wake me up though, so at some point I did fall asleep.

Immediately in the morning, I remembered about my teacher, and the awful feelings.
When I got to the day program, I shared in group therapy what had happened. I looked like I'd been through hell when I showed up (with puffy eyes and dark circles under them), so my group was waiting for me to share what it's about. I briefly said what happened, and I said "why do good people do such bad things?"

It's because it hit me at this very vulnerable time in my life that it hit so hard. I know that our heroes are just people, and can fall just like anyone can. But, being that the nature of the article about my teacher was so vague, I didn't know if he hurt children, or what was involved.

I decided that evening that I had to call him. I had to know what he did. I had to hear it from his voice. And, I didn't know if email was safe to write anymore, being that the FBI probably has his hard drive. I also worried a bit for myself, being that I had just written him emails from when I was in the psych hospital, and telling him why. I was slightly worried that since I didn't mention the name of the perpetrator in my youth, the FBI would read my letter and want to round up another pedophile along the way. Was I ready to press charges on him? No, I am not ready, not strong enough yet. It's not a goal I have. What if he would deny everything? I'm not strong enough for that, and I'm not sure about if there were witnesses or not. But that's off the subject (kind of)...

I called my teacher that night. He was shocked to hear my voice at the other end of the phone, almost as shocked as I was to know that he answered, that he was indeed at home, not in jail (yet). He asked me if I'm out of the hospital yet, how are things.... I skipped right to the point. No small talk.

me: "I saw the article about you; my brother sent it to me, he somehow got it from a different friend"
him: "Wow, all the way to Israel people are seeing that article."
me: "I need to know what you did. I need to know exactly what you did and what the charges are"
him: yes, I can understand that, being in the situation you yourself are in, trying to heal the fallout from childhood sexual abuse"
me: "so?"
him: "you deserve the truth Sarah. I've always been truthful with you".
me: "that's certainly the impression I was under, but I don't know what to think now"
him: "I never touched or hurt any children"
me: "go on"
him: "I have a problem, I am in therapy for it, but the police caught up with the problem before I had enough therapy to stop it"
him: "I look at child pornography. There was some sort of flag embedded in an image and the FBI caught up with me by tracing it back to my computer"
him: "I know that the pictures are child exploitation, and I know I took advantage of someone else's exploitation of that child, but somehow knowing I wasn't directly hurting the child somehow made it ok in my mind." "I was wrong"
me: "what now?"
him: "awaiting sentencing, I think. There are people who do real rapes and real awful things, and their jail time is less than what mine is probably going to be"
me: "I guess. It's all bad though." I think I said "how could you?" Or maybe I didn't say that but I wanted to.
him: "Sarah, I never hurt any child, ever"
me: "I believe you".

We went on to talk a bit about how my kids are doing, how his kids are doing (he's divorced), life's ups and downs. It was a pretty short call, maybe 15 minutes, half hour, I don't know.

After I got off the phone with him I had another wave of tears... for my fallen hero.
When my therapist a few months ago asked me "Sarah, who supported you?" I said this teacher. He was my support system in those tumultuous years. When I told this teacher of that conversation with my therapist, and thanked him for being "my person" during those hard high school years, he wrote back and said of himself that he was just a bandaid for me. But he was a lot more than that. He was a stability of support and acceptance that I craved, not getting it from my home. I got support in my home when it came to my music, some of the time. That I was clearly successful in, so I got acceptance and approval for that from my parents. But little else that I did in my life amounted to anything positive from them.

Anyway, that was then, this is now. I could have never imagined I'd be in this position at 50 years old; finally dealing with my demons from so long ago. You know what? It's hard to go to "work" (the day program) and battle your demons every day. I'm exhausted emotionally and physically every afternoon. I cry every day. I have to push flashbacks and "that space" out of my head when my kids are home. It's not simple in the slightest. I have been recommended to another program in the psych hospital for parents who are dealing with emotional/mental illness while living with their children. I tell you, there are so many programs in this hospital, I am incredibly impressed. I never knew all this was available. And it's all free, thanks to socialized medicine.

I am still working the program that the Rav who I am learning from has on-line for his students. It helps me so much to connect with G-d and live in that positive space more. And it fills a void for me-- it's actually exactly what I need at this time in my life.
And I am still going to the gym semi-regularly to work out and get fit. It's hard when I'm in a sad/heavy frame of mind, but sometimes I give myself a break, and don't go, and sometimes I push through and go. And I started up Tai Chi again, thankfully.

I'm reading a book now called "Close to the Bone", life-threatening illness as a soul journey.
It's very different than my book; much more philosophical, and I'm enjoying it. (thanks, MM!). I will end with a very appropriate quote from the beginning of the book, page 10:

A life threatening illness brings to end a phase of life, as it may to life itself. A life threatening illness has the impact of a stone hitting the still surface of a lake, sending concentric rings of disturbance out, as feelings, thoughts, and reactions radiate out from this center. It impacts relationships, it stirs the depths of others, it potentially brings the patient and those who are affected "close to the bone" into a proximity of the soul. Soul questions arise about the meaning of life when the mind is ill or the body is ailing. Healing and recovery may depend as much or more upon a deepening of relationships and connection to one's own soul and spiritual life, as on medical or psychiatric expertise. 

(Jean Shinoda Bolen, M.D., author of "Close to the Bone")