I'm not going to go into detail of the opening arguments in Casey Anthony's murder trial this morning, I almost vomited when I heard it the first time. I knew they were going to blame George Anthony somehow but wasn't expecting all the other shit. And that's what it was, SHIT! I cannot believe how ignorant Jose Baez believes the general public is. And if this jury believes that Roy Kronk had Caylee's body for several months and then placed her in the woods???? Um, never mind, I'll withhold my judgment. But NOW I understand all the crap Jose was asking during the jury selection, "You do realize that the law says that the defense does not have to PROVE ANYTHING?" Oh you piece of SHIT, Baez!! I can't only blame Jose, every single one of the defense HAD to agree to this bullshit in order for them to go into this. What the HELL were they thinking? I could NOT even follow Baez's line of questioning. He jumped from one subject to another within three words. Honestly, I would bet my life that the jury was like, "WHAT????? I am soooo confused." Good fucking luck with all that defense, good fucking LUCK!!! HOW the HELL did Kronk get Caylee's body you dumb ass???? OMG! This literally makes me ill. I understand that Casey's lawyers are to cast doubt in order for them to maybe save her life, great - that's their job. But....I waited for THREE years for THAT crap??? I REALLY was waiting for (and very much so hoping for) something PLAUSIBLE that may have happened accidentally to Caylee. I was so hoping that Baez could change my mind, that I could maybe believe that Casey did not murder her daughter, that I really didn't know the whole story. I'm guessing that Baez and his crew did not realize that they should never have let Casey have input on what type of lie to tell this jury before hand. Ugh, I can't believe how outrageous this all is.
Onto Jo Jo!!! I had faith in you and you did NOT let me down. More importantly, you did NOT let Caylee down. I am so very proud of George Anthony today. He sat there stoically as Baez and Casey accused George of putting his penis in his daughter's mouth when she was eight years old and then went to school to lie, as if nothing ever happened. He then heard that Caylee drowned in the family's swimming pool. Next he heard that he pulled the limp and lifeless Caylee out of the pool and that he screamed at Casey "LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!! YOUR MOTHER WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS." (WTF btw - what was even the reason for that???) George sat on the stand looking at his picture of Caylee for strength, composure and comfort - looked Mr. Jeff Ashton in the eyes when questioned if he had ever molested his daughter Casey and said "No". He was then asked by Mr. Ashton, "Were you home when Caylee drowned in the family pool on June 16th?" Again, George looked straight into Mr. Ashton's eyes and said, "No". Without venom, without disdain, without DISGUST - but with his regained DIGNITY!! George Anthony FINALLY found Caylee's voice! There was nothing but shock and distress on Casey's face as if saying to herself, "I cannot believe he did NOT roll over for me on this one." Well, why shouldn't she be shocked? For three years (that we have actually been able to view) he has stood beside his daughter and lied, covered up evidence - etc..... Oh my, that must have tasted so bad to Casey! Baez not only threw George under the bus but pretty much everyone involved in this case. EVERYONE is at fault EXCEPT poor innocent Casey Anthony. I can't wait to see what happens tomorrow - if Cindy testifies. I hope she has finally found Caylee's voice too. Cindy, we ALL know you love Casey - there is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING wrong with that. But what is WRONG is silencing Caylee more than her mother already has. Prove to us how much you adore and love Caylee. DO NOT ROLL OVER for Casey. She has BLAMED you and George for EVERYTHING that has gone wrong. Call on Caylee's spirit, she will tell you to do the right thing. She will guide you. PLEASE don't let Caylee down. She deserves justice. Caylee deserves PEACE!!!
Justice for Caylee!!!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
Punishment is Justice for the Unjust - St. Augustine
It has been a tough two weeks watching the jury selection of Casey Anthony's murder trial. I watched every day, I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. Even the monotony of it all could not tear me away. It is something that I have never seen before and to me it was an awesome experience. I have come away with the realization that if I were to be accused of a serious crime to where the punishment consisted of death or life with out parole that I would take my chances and go on the run. My first thought was that I would waive my right to a jury trial, but a friend (who happens to be a lawyer) said to me, "Really???? Would you rather have a one out of twelve chance of survival or one out of one?" That's when I looked at him and said, "Well, then, I'll take my chances of running." Think about it, after watching the last two weeks can you honestly say that you have faith in a jury trial?
I picked most of the same jurors as what we have ended up with. I am so very glad that the last woman, who fed kittens and puppies with a bottle, was not picked. There was something very odd about her. When she spoke, it took my all not to cringe at her words. She is probably a very sweet lady, but I don't know.....I am just happy she is not part of the jury. There were many that I thought out right lied when they stated they did not know anything about this case. After day one, I am sure most wanted to be on the jury - I mean, all the people who stayed and said there would be no hardship for them to be away or financially. I would have paid to be on this jury. And not just because I believe Casey is guilty, but just so I could be a part of Caylee's justice. And even though I do believe Casey to be guilty, I do believe she deserves a fair and impartial jury. Which I have faith that she has received.
I can honestly say that if I were picked for the jury that I could lay aside my pre-judgements of her guilt and listen to the evidence. I don't believe that any mitigating factors could sway my opinion though. To me, mitigating factors means "excuses". I cannot excuse actions of murder. We can make excuses for every dang action (or inaction) a person does, but that doesn't change the fact that he/she knows right from wrong. I don't know if being sexually/physically abused would sway my opinions either. I mean, there are so many children who are raised in physically and sexually abusive homes, but not ALL of them grow up to murder; especially their own child. I don't know, that's a hard one isn't it? But I do know that I could and would listen to all of the evidence. And I do think it would be hard for me if the defense does not have to prove their client innocent. Watching this trial is going to enlighten a lot of us that have no clue about laws and evidence, the whole process, and how it all ends.
I've never been too worried about Casey receiving the death penalty because I don't believe death will be her sentence. It's very hard for people to impose death on a woman, especially a young and attractive woman. I'm not saying I think she is attractive, I guess I would if I didn't know about her. But most people find her pretty. I am anxious to see and hear the evidence for that part of the trial. I just hope that these jurors can weigh the evidence as they say they can. I will keep the faith.
I know this will not be the opinion of the majority, but I saw a refreshing side of Jose Baez. He did not GRATE on my nerves as much as he has in the past three years. He didn't seem so smug and arrogant, for the most part anyway. He seemed to have understood what he was doing, even though his questions (some) were ridiculous - he is an articulate man. I'm hoping his circus-esque style of defending his client in the past was just a show, a joke on all of us and that he truly knows what he is doing. Casey's defense team really seems to care for her, she is lucky. Can you imagine what it would feel like knowing your counsel could care less about you? It makes me shiver to think about it.
To the prosecutors and to Honorable Belvin Perry, Jr: Thank you to you all. I feel there is no one to speak for Caylee since her voice was stolen. She doesn't have her mother or father. She doesn't have her grandmother or grandfather. She doesn't have her uncle. But, she has you all. I have so much respect and admiration for each of you. It doesn't seem like this is a job for you. You truly LOVE Caylee and realize, as does the public, that YOU are her ONLY voice. YOU are the ones that seek justice for this precious baby girl. God, thank you all, you are all wonderful; no matter how this all ends.
Justice for Caylee Marie Anthony!
I picked most of the same jurors as what we have ended up with. I am so very glad that the last woman, who fed kittens and puppies with a bottle, was not picked. There was something very odd about her. When she spoke, it took my all not to cringe at her words. She is probably a very sweet lady, but I don't know.....I am just happy she is not part of the jury. There were many that I thought out right lied when they stated they did not know anything about this case. After day one, I am sure most wanted to be on the jury - I mean, all the people who stayed and said there would be no hardship for them to be away or financially. I would have paid to be on this jury. And not just because I believe Casey is guilty, but just so I could be a part of Caylee's justice. And even though I do believe Casey to be guilty, I do believe she deserves a fair and impartial jury. Which I have faith that she has received.
I can honestly say that if I were picked for the jury that I could lay aside my pre-judgements of her guilt and listen to the evidence. I don't believe that any mitigating factors could sway my opinion though. To me, mitigating factors means "excuses". I cannot excuse actions of murder. We can make excuses for every dang action (or inaction) a person does, but that doesn't change the fact that he/she knows right from wrong. I don't know if being sexually/physically abused would sway my opinions either. I mean, there are so many children who are raised in physically and sexually abusive homes, but not ALL of them grow up to murder; especially their own child. I don't know, that's a hard one isn't it? But I do know that I could and would listen to all of the evidence. And I do think it would be hard for me if the defense does not have to prove their client innocent. Watching this trial is going to enlighten a lot of us that have no clue about laws and evidence, the whole process, and how it all ends.
I've never been too worried about Casey receiving the death penalty because I don't believe death will be her sentence. It's very hard for people to impose death on a woman, especially a young and attractive woman. I'm not saying I think she is attractive, I guess I would if I didn't know about her. But most people find her pretty. I am anxious to see and hear the evidence for that part of the trial. I just hope that these jurors can weigh the evidence as they say they can. I will keep the faith.
I know this will not be the opinion of the majority, but I saw a refreshing side of Jose Baez. He did not GRATE on my nerves as much as he has in the past three years. He didn't seem so smug and arrogant, for the most part anyway. He seemed to have understood what he was doing, even though his questions (some) were ridiculous - he is an articulate man. I'm hoping his circus-esque style of defending his client in the past was just a show, a joke on all of us and that he truly knows what he is doing. Casey's defense team really seems to care for her, she is lucky. Can you imagine what it would feel like knowing your counsel could care less about you? It makes me shiver to think about it.
To the prosecutors and to Honorable Belvin Perry, Jr: Thank you to you all. I feel there is no one to speak for Caylee since her voice was stolen. She doesn't have her mother or father. She doesn't have her grandmother or grandfather. She doesn't have her uncle. But, she has you all. I have so much respect and admiration for each of you. It doesn't seem like this is a job for you. You truly LOVE Caylee and realize, as does the public, that YOU are her ONLY voice. YOU are the ones that seek justice for this precious baby girl. God, thank you all, you are all wonderful; no matter how this all ends.
Justice for Caylee Marie Anthony!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Justice For Caylee Anthony Is A Slow Process
We are now on day 9(?) with the jury selection. We have had 12 jurors picked at least three times. When we reach 12 jurors inevitably the defense strikes one so they cannot be sworn in. Today, the defense brought a motion, not written, in regards to the due process of their client and how the pace of the selection of the jury panel is infringing on that right. Also infringing on the law of how a jury is sworn in without the alternates. Honorable Belvin Perry, Jr. denied this motion but has now asked the defense how they want to proceed. The court room will not be available tomorrow and they have 16 more potential jurors to be questioned. Honorable Belvin Perry, Jr. stated months ago what jury selection would entail and how he would like it to move along. He has asked the defense will we work late hours or shall we move somewhere else. I have no qualms with this. I believe that Casey deserves a fair trial. I believe that she deserves a fair and impartial jury. What I do have a problem with is that they are delaying the inevitable. Casey Marie Anthony will stand trial for the indicted charges against her. She can't hide and she sure cannot run from this no matter how much she and her defense team wish to.
I feel that Casey is guilty because of her in actions and actions before and after this precious baby was missing and ultimately found dead. I have heard the defense state that "your mouths will drop when you hear the truth" or something to that effect. I heard that "once the baby is found you will all know the truth." Well, the baby was found, dead. Where was Casey screaming the truth of what happened? Where was the outrage from her??? Where was the proof that she had that nothing to do with this? WHY has she sat in jail for THREE years waiting to tell her side of the story? I would never sit in jail for any amount of time to protect anyone. She claims she was keeping Caylee and her family safe.....what BS!!! Caylee was found DEAD, you cannot protect a dead child! WHERE ARE THE ANSWERS TO THESE QUESTIONS????
No doubt I will be disappointed if this trial is delayed. But for Casey to remain in jail to ponder what life may be for her for the next some odd years makes me smile. Go to hell Casey Anthony, because that is where you belong. You are a lying sack of crap!!!!!
I feel that Casey is guilty because of her in actions and actions before and after this precious baby was missing and ultimately found dead. I have heard the defense state that "your mouths will drop when you hear the truth" or something to that effect. I heard that "once the baby is found you will all know the truth." Well, the baby was found, dead. Where was Casey screaming the truth of what happened? Where was the outrage from her??? Where was the proof that she had that nothing to do with this? WHY has she sat in jail for THREE years waiting to tell her side of the story? I would never sit in jail for any amount of time to protect anyone. She claims she was keeping Caylee and her family safe.....what BS!!! Caylee was found DEAD, you cannot protect a dead child! WHERE ARE THE ANSWERS TO THESE QUESTIONS????
No doubt I will be disappointed if this trial is delayed. But for Casey to remain in jail to ponder what life may be for her for the next some odd years makes me smile. Go to hell Casey Anthony, because that is where you belong. You are a lying sack of crap!!!!!
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Jury Selection - Day Three - Caylee Anthony
I have been watching the jury selection for Casey Anthony’s upcoming murder trial for the last three days. First, I must say it’s an experience for sure, not too unpleasant. The major problem I have with this is the people, potential jurors, who are ridiculously selfish. I’m not going to detail all of their excuses, because that is what they are, but being married for 42 years and not ever being away from your husband IS NOT a hardship. That woman really bothered me, maybe it’s because I am a strong person and just cannot understand that type of thinking. You spend 42 years “taking care” of your husband but when it comes to your civic duty to your country, you cannot “take care” of that? I withhold and keep to myself my true feelings toward her, for now. Also, the Raymond James potential juror? This just makes me acutely aware of how many people in this world who think they are “special,” more special than anyone else. I could carry on with numerous thoughts regarding this type of person, but I won’t.
I understand what type of inconvenience being away from my home for eight weeks would be. I absolutely would not want to be away from my family and friends, but I certainly would do what was asked of me if it would not financially ruin me. I certainly would not make up excuses and say that I am the only person at my place of employment that would be able to do my job. I mean, listen to these people’s excuses - “I umpire at little league,” “I own seven dogs,” “I have a sleep apnea, narcolepsy” “I need to go to church in order to pray to God” - unbelievable. I guess I am just of the thoughts that if they don’t serve, this trial will be delayed. I do NOT want this. Pick me, I’ll be on the jury - you don’t have to pay me. I’ll do it for free!
I watch Casey very closely. Has anyone ever noticed how small her hands are? I don’t know why they give me an eerie feeling, but that they do. My opinion of the shaking of her head "no" when his honor reads the indictment to each of the jury panels is an act. She does the same exact things before each time this happens. It has now happened three different times. She is an actress, not a very good one. You can actually see her psyche herself up for the tears that inevitably appear. It really makes me ill that these potential jurors will not be able to see that until after the case is over. Well, the ones who will be seated won't. Her tears really annoy me. I have seen the actual tear drops that have fallen, but they are not for Caylee. They are not for the reason that she is wrongly accused (in my opinion) of murdering her child. These tears are solely for her self. She HATES to be judged. She cannot stand the fact that they are there essentially to JUDGE her. I would swear to the fact that she is thinking “how DARE they judge ME!” She is angry, not sad. And what a "great" ploy her defense team thought up, no? I wonder what goes through her mind when she sees and hears these young, single mothers work, go to school and take care of their children. I really do. Does she think they are all liars as she is? WHAT goes through a mind such as Casey’s? I think I should have studied to be a psychologist!
I think they will find the jury they want from these people. Monday cannot get here soon enough! It saddens me to say that I am very excited for this trial to start. Being an empathetic person by nature, it goes against what I stand for and believe to be happy for others discomfort. But with this case, for Caylee - I am happy that this will be over in six or eight weeks.
JUSTICE FOR CAYLEE!!!!!
I understand what type of inconvenience being away from my home for eight weeks would be. I absolutely would not want to be away from my family and friends, but I certainly would do what was asked of me if it would not financially ruin me. I certainly would not make up excuses and say that I am the only person at my place of employment that would be able to do my job. I mean, listen to these people’s excuses - “I umpire at little league,” “I own seven dogs,” “I have a sleep apnea, narcolepsy” “I need to go to church in order to pray to God” - unbelievable. I guess I am just of the thoughts that if they don’t serve, this trial will be delayed. I do NOT want this. Pick me, I’ll be on the jury - you don’t have to pay me. I’ll do it for free!
I watch Casey very closely. Has anyone ever noticed how small her hands are? I don’t know why they give me an eerie feeling, but that they do. My opinion of the shaking of her head "no" when his honor reads the indictment to each of the jury panels is an act. She does the same exact things before each time this happens. It has now happened three different times. She is an actress, not a very good one. You can actually see her psyche herself up for the tears that inevitably appear. It really makes me ill that these potential jurors will not be able to see that until after the case is over. Well, the ones who will be seated won't. Her tears really annoy me. I have seen the actual tear drops that have fallen, but they are not for Caylee. They are not for the reason that she is wrongly accused (in my opinion) of murdering her child. These tears are solely for her self. She HATES to be judged. She cannot stand the fact that they are there essentially to JUDGE her. I would swear to the fact that she is thinking “how DARE they judge ME!” She is angry, not sad. And what a "great" ploy her defense team thought up, no? I wonder what goes through her mind when she sees and hears these young, single mothers work, go to school and take care of their children. I really do. Does she think they are all liars as she is? WHAT goes through a mind such as Casey’s? I think I should have studied to be a psychologist!
I think they will find the jury they want from these people. Monday cannot get here soon enough! It saddens me to say that I am very excited for this trial to start. Being an empathetic person by nature, it goes against what I stand for and believe to be happy for others discomfort. But with this case, for Caylee - I am happy that this will be over in six or eight weeks.
JUSTICE FOR CAYLEE!!!!!
Monday, May 2, 2011
Justice for Caylee Anthony - 2011
I don't know if I hope you are keeping an ear and eye out with what is happening in the Casey Anthony capital murder case anymore. After watching the hearing today regarding "media and public entitlement" (my interpretation) I guess I hope that you aren't. I agree 100% with Honorable Belvin J. Perry, Jr's denying of the motion. I agree 100% with his up-holding his oath as a judge and the rights of the defendant. Because no matter what I may think Casey did or didn't do, if I were ever in her position (God forbid) I'd want the right to a fair trial. I'd want someone to remember the Bill of Rights and the Amendments. I'd want just ONE person to care enough about me, even if they believed I was guilty of committing the said crime, to do the right thing.
I am nervous that this trial is going to be delayed. I do not think it will be fair, not just to every single person involved in this case, but definitely to Caylee. Every person in her immediate family has forgotten about this precious little girl. Well, I can't say that - I am truly hoping that George Anthony has finally regained his sense of right and wrong, found his strength to stand up to the evil that has enveloped him for what some may say for most of his adult life and has decided to be the voice - the heart for Caylee. Not to keep his ass out of jail for the lies, concealment of information and blatant destruction of evidence, but truly for his granddaughter Caylee. Caylee needs her "Jo Jo". I pray that he'll be there for her.
Imagine all of the devastation a delay of this trial will invoke? It's already been three years! And just like his honor, Judge Belvin Perry, Jr., had said - if any of the witnesses die all of their statements are lost, memories can fade. No matter how badly I want to hear, see and know what is going on in this case - I would give that up gladly to know that Caylee will see justice in 2011. Not in another year, in 2011. All of the nonsensical orders being dropped on the desk of the judge is not helping anything. I have seen Judge Perry go from jovial to frustrated and annoyed in a matter of 30 days. I blame the media and the defense. The media because of today's time-wasting hearing. The defense? Ha, I could write about 100 pages for every reason I blame them, but I won't. I blame them, but I do understand their actions. Their job is to defend their client. So be it, but dang - be a little less dense about it in the future.
As long as I can see the actual trial, I can give up my public right to everything else. I am with you on this one your honor. Casey deserves a fair trial even if I believe that she murdered her child. No matter that I believe Cindy is a lying, self-absorbed, self-serving actress (don't believe her "mental break-down" when it happens). No matter that I believe that the only person that matters in this case has no future, who had a pretty shitty past, who is dead - Caylee.
Justice for Caylee!!!!
I am nervous that this trial is going to be delayed. I do not think it will be fair, not just to every single person involved in this case, but definitely to Caylee. Every person in her immediate family has forgotten about this precious little girl. Well, I can't say that - I am truly hoping that George Anthony has finally regained his sense of right and wrong, found his strength to stand up to the evil that has enveloped him for what some may say for most of his adult life and has decided to be the voice - the heart for Caylee. Not to keep his ass out of jail for the lies, concealment of information and blatant destruction of evidence, but truly for his granddaughter Caylee. Caylee needs her "Jo Jo". I pray that he'll be there for her.
Imagine all of the devastation a delay of this trial will invoke? It's already been three years! And just like his honor, Judge Belvin Perry, Jr., had said - if any of the witnesses die all of their statements are lost, memories can fade. No matter how badly I want to hear, see and know what is going on in this case - I would give that up gladly to know that Caylee will see justice in 2011. Not in another year, in 2011. All of the nonsensical orders being dropped on the desk of the judge is not helping anything. I have seen Judge Perry go from jovial to frustrated and annoyed in a matter of 30 days. I blame the media and the defense. The media because of today's time-wasting hearing. The defense? Ha, I could write about 100 pages for every reason I blame them, but I won't. I blame them, but I do understand their actions. Their job is to defend their client. So be it, but dang - be a little less dense about it in the future.
As long as I can see the actual trial, I can give up my public right to everything else. I am with you on this one your honor. Casey deserves a fair trial even if I believe that she murdered her child. No matter that I believe Cindy is a lying, self-absorbed, self-serving actress (don't believe her "mental break-down" when it happens). No matter that I believe that the only person that matters in this case has no future, who had a pretty shitty past, who is dead - Caylee.
Justice for Caylee!!!!
Friday, April 1, 2011
Caylee Marie Anthony - Is Justice aComin'???
I have been playing catch-up on the Caylee Marie Anthony murder case for the past two weeks. It's a lot to take in and it's infuriating to say the very least. I have never in my life seen such lies and deciet in one single case before this. If you aren't watching and listening to what is happening, you sure are missing a great injustice to a child. Not even from her so-called family, but by the defense of her "mother" (and I use that term loosely!).
I thought that Honorable Judge Perry was going to be an outstandingly ethical judge in this case. What I saw this morning (and am still seeing) has made me question him. Honorable Judge Perry has warned Jose Baez (really, is he REALLY a lawyer?????) time and again regarding the rules and practices of trial. You can clearly see he is fed up with JB's actions, BUT he allows Baez to CONTINUE with MORE warnings. If the Honorable Judge Perry goes against his own rulings in the past year, I will be tremendously nervous for the actual trial and outcome. Honorable Judge Perry, you see the ineptness of the defense. You SEE the lies from the defendent AND her family - PLEASE DO NOT FORGET ABOUT CAYLEE MARIE ANTHONY!!! I beg you, I beg you.
I have so many things to say about Baez, that will have to be another post. There are just too many things wrong with this guy, which I am sure you are all aware of by now. I will say that his constant whining and tempertantrums are getting on my very last nerve. AND that I cannot believe the audacity of which he tries to get evidence into play. Oh my gosh it pisses me right the fuck off. Sorry people, but I've told you I cannot stand liars and he is ONE BIG FUCKING LIAR!!!!
There is one place on the Internet that I love to read about this case: http://www.thehinkymeter.com/ I don't follow the comments, except when I cannot watch a hearing, but the owner's articles are amusing and so incredibly well written that I find myself there first thing in the mornings and last at night. They all seem to be a great bunch of people there. I highly reccommend Hinky Meter if you wish to follow this case.
Caylee Marie Anthony will have her justice - praying - whether the courts deliver it for her or when the public hands it to her. Her "mother" will not get away with murdering this precious child.
I thought that Honorable Judge Perry was going to be an outstandingly ethical judge in this case. What I saw this morning (and am still seeing) has made me question him. Honorable Judge Perry has warned Jose Baez (really, is he REALLY a lawyer?????) time and again regarding the rules and practices of trial. You can clearly see he is fed up with JB's actions, BUT he allows Baez to CONTINUE with MORE warnings. If the Honorable Judge Perry goes against his own rulings in the past year, I will be tremendously nervous for the actual trial and outcome. Honorable Judge Perry, you see the ineptness of the defense. You SEE the lies from the defendent AND her family - PLEASE DO NOT FORGET ABOUT CAYLEE MARIE ANTHONY!!! I beg you, I beg you.
I have so many things to say about Baez, that will have to be another post. There are just too many things wrong with this guy, which I am sure you are all aware of by now. I will say that his constant whining and tempertantrums are getting on my very last nerve. AND that I cannot believe the audacity of which he tries to get evidence into play. Oh my gosh it pisses me right the fuck off. Sorry people, but I've told you I cannot stand liars and he is ONE BIG FUCKING LIAR!!!!
There is one place on the Internet that I love to read about this case: http://www.thehinkymeter.com/ I don't follow the comments, except when I cannot watch a hearing, but the owner's articles are amusing and so incredibly well written that I find myself there first thing in the mornings and last at night. They all seem to be a great bunch of people there. I highly reccommend Hinky Meter if you wish to follow this case.
Caylee Marie Anthony will have her justice - praying - whether the courts deliver it for her or when the public hands it to her. Her "mother" will not get away with murdering this precious child.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Society Has Failed Another Abused Child - RIP Bill Zeller
I am posting Bill Zeller's 4,000 word suicide letter in the hopes that we as a society can finally understand what happens to a child when they are sexually and physically abused and then grow up to be adults. In my mind, this man never truly grew into adulthood. The "darkness" that plagued him swallowed him whole at the very moment the monster raped him.
I wish I could have known Mr. Zeller. I wish he would have reached out to just one person. I wish so many things. Most importantly, I wish that pedophiles who believe that raping children is considered "love" will stop and think about Bill's words before they destroy another precious soul.
If anyone of you that have read this suicide letter and feels this way, please don't give up. Find help, there are so many different ways to receive help. Don't let the rapists, molesters and pedophiles win. There are many people who care and love you.
I have no idea of what happens to us when we die, by natural causes or by our own hand, but I truly hope Bill has finally found peace and love in death where he could not seem to find in life. God, wrap your arms around Bill and let him feel love.
And Bill, I forgive you - I don't forgive society.
"http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/01/07/bill-zeller-dead-princeto_n_805689.html
I have the urge to declare my sanity and justify my actions, but I assume I'll never be able to convince anyone that this was the right decision. Maybe it's true that anyone who does this is insane by definition, but I can at least explain my reasoning. I considered not writing any of this because of how personal it is, but I like tying up loose ends and don't want people to wonder why I did this. Since I've never spoken to anyone about what happened to me, people would likely draw the wrong conclusions.
My first memories as a child are of being raped, repeatedly. This has affected every aspect of my life. This darkness, which is the only way I can describe it, has followed me like a fog, but at times intensified and overwhelmed me, usually triggered by a distinct situation. In kindergarten I couldn't use the bathroom and would stand petrified whenever I needed to, which started a trend of awkward and unexplained social behavior. The damage that was done to my body still prevents me from using the bathroom normally, but now it's less of a physical impediment than a daily reminder of what was done to me.
This darkness followed me as I grew up. I remember spending hours playing with legos, having my world consist of me and a box of cold, plastic blocks. Just waiting for everything to end. It's the same thing I do now, but instead of legos it's surfing the web or reading or listening to a baseball game. Most of my life has been spent feeling dead inside, waiting for my body to catch up.
At times growing up I would feel inconsolable rage, but I never connected this to what happened until puberty. I was able to keep the darkness at bay for a few hours at a time by doing things that required intense concentration, but it would always come back. Programming appealed to me for this reason. I was never particularly fond of computers or mathematically inclined, but the temporary peace it would provide was like a drug. But the darkness always returned and built up something like a tolerance, because programming has become less and less of a refuge.
The darkness is with me nearly every time I wake up. I feel like a grime is covering me. I feel like I'm trapped in a contimated body that no amount of washing will clean. Whenever I think about what happened I feel manic and itchy and can't concentrate on anything else. It manifests itself in hours of eating or staying up for days at a time or sleeping for sixteen hours straight or week long programming binges or constantly going to the gym. I'm exhausted from feeling like this every hour of every day.
Three to four nights a week I have nightmares about what happened. It makes me avoid sleep and constantly tired, because sleeping with what feels like hours of nightmares is not restful. I wake up sweaty and furious. I'm reminded every morning of what was done to me and the control it has over my life.
I've never been able to stop thinking about what happened to me and this hampered my social interactions. I would be angry and lost in thought and then be interrupted by someone saying "Hi" or making small talk, unable to understand why I seemed cold and distant. I walked around, viewing the outside world from a distant portal behind my eyes, unable to perform normal human niceties. I wondered what it would be like to take to other people without what happened constantly on my mind, and I wondered if other people had similar experiences that they were better able to mask.
Alcohol was also something that let me escape the darkness. It would always find me later, though, and it was always angry that I managed to escape and it made me pay. Many of the irresponsible things I did were the result of the darkness. Obviously I'm responsible for every decision and action, including this one, but there are reasons why things happen the way they do.
Alcohol and other drugs provided a way to ignore the realities of my situation. It was easy to spend the night drinking and forget that I had no future to look forward to. I never liked what alcohol did to me, but it was better than facing my existence honestly. I haven't touched alcohol or any other drug in over seven months (and no drugs or alcohol will be involved when I do this) and this has forced me to evaluate my life in an honest and clear way. There's no future here. The darkness will always be with me.
I used to think if I solved some problem or achieved some goal, maybe he would leave. It was comforting to identify tangible issues as the source of my problems instead of something that I'll never be able to change. I thought that if I got into to a good college, or a good grad school, or lost weight, or went to the gym nearly every day for a year, or created programs that millions of people used, or spent a summer or California or New York or published papers that I was proud of, then maybe I would feel some peace and not be constantly haunted and unhappy. But nothing I did made a dent in how depressed I was on a daily basis and nothing was in any way fulfilling. I'm not sure why I ever thought that would change anything.
I didn't realize how deep a hold he had on me and my life until my first relationship. I stupidly assumed that no matter how the darkness affected me personally, my romantic relationships would somehow be separated and protected.
Growing up I viewed my future relationships as a possible escape from this thing that haunts me every day, but I began to realize how entangled it was with every aspect of my life and how it is never going to release me. Instead of being an escape, relationships and romantic contact with other people only intensified everything about him that I couldn't stand. I will never be able to have a relationship in which he is not the focus, affecting every aspect of my romantic interactions.
Relationships always started out fine and I'd be able to ignore him for a few weeks. But as we got closer emotionally the darkness would return and every night it'd be me, her and the darkness in a black and gruesome threesome. He would surround me and penetrate me and the more we did the more intense it became. It made me hate being touched, because as long as we were separated I could view her like an outsider viewing something good and kind and untainted. Once we touched, the darkness would envelope her too and take her over and the evil inside me would surround her. I always felt like I was infecting anyone I was with.
Relationships didn't work. No one I dated was the right match, and I thought that maybe if I found the right person it would overwhelm him. Part of me knew that finding the right person wouldn't help, so I became interested in girls who obviously had no interest in me. For a while I thought I was gay. I convinced myself that it wasn't the darkness at all, but rather my orientation, because this would give me control over why things didn't feel "right". The fact that the darkness affected sexual matters most intensely made this idea make some sense and I convinced myself of this for a number of years, starting in college after my first relationship ended. I told people I was gay (at Trinity, not at Princeton), even though I wasn't attracted to men and kept finding myself interested in girls. Because if being gay wasn't the answer, then what was? People thought I was avoiding my orientation, but I was actually avoiding the truth, which is that while I'm straight, I will never be content with anyone. I know now that the darkness will never leave.
Last spring I met someone who was unlike anyone else I'd ever met. Someone who showed me just how well two people could get along and how much I could care about another human being. Someone I know I could be with and love for the rest of my life, if I weren't so fucked up. Amazingly, she liked me. She liked the shell of the man the darkness had left behind. But it didn't matter because I couldn't be alone with her. It was never just the two of us, it was always the three of us: her, me and the darkness. The closer we got, the more intensely I'd feel the darkness, like some evil mirror of my emotions. All the closeness we had and I loved was complemented by agony that I couldn't stand, from him. I realized that I would never be able to give her, or anyone, all of me or only me. She could never have me without the darkness and evil inside me. I could never have just her, without the darkness being a part of all of our interactions. I will never be able to be at peace or content or in a healthy relationship. I realized the futility of the romantic part of my life. If I had never met her, I would have realized this as soon as I met someone else who I meshed similarly well with. It's likely that things wouldn't have worked out with her and we would have broken up (with our relationship ending, like the majority of relationships do) even if I didn't have this problem, since we only dated for a short time. But I will face exactly the same problems with the darkness with anyone else. Despite my hopes, love and compatability is not enough. Nothing is enough. There's no way I can fix this or even push the darkness down far enough to make a relationship or any type of intimacy feasible.
So I watched as things fell apart between us. I had put an explicit time limit on our relationship, since I knew it couldn't last because of the darkness and didn't want to hold her back, and this caused a variety of problems. She was put in an unnatural situation that she never should have been a part of. It must have been very hard for her, not knowing what was actually going on with me, but this is not something I've ever been able to talk about with anyone. Losing her was very hard for me as well. Not because of her (I got over our relationship relatively quickly), but because of the realization that I would never have another relationship and because it signified the last true, exclusive personal connection I could ever have.
This wasn't apparent to other people, because I could never talk about the real reasons for my sadness. I was very sad in the summer and fall, but it was not because of her, it was because I will never escape the darkness with anyone. She was so loving and kind to me and gave me everything I could have asked for under the circumstances. I'll never forget how much happiness she brought me in those briefs moments when I could ignore the darkness. I had originally planned to kill myself last winter but never got around to it. (Parts of this letter were written over a year ago, other parts days before doing this.) It was wrong of me to involve myself in her life if this were a possibility and I should have just left her alone, even though we only dated for a few months and things ended a long time ago. She's just one more person in a long list of people I've hurt.
I could spend pages talking about the other relationships I've had that were ruined because of my problems and my confusion related to the darkness. I've hurt so many great people because of who I am and my inability to experience what needs to be experienced. All I can say is that I tried to be honest with people about what I thought was true.
I've spent my life hurting people. Today will be the last time.
I've told different people a lot of things, but I've never told anyone about what happened to me, ever, for obvious reasons. It took me a while to realize that no matter how close you are to someone or how much they claim to love you, people simply cannot keep secrets. I learned this a few years ago when I thought I was gay and told people. The more harmful the secret, the juicier the gossip and the more likely you are to be betrayed. People don't care about their word or what they've promised, they just do whatever the fuck they want and justify it later. It feels incredibly lonely to realize you can never share something with someone and have it be between just the two of you. I don't blame anyone in particular, I guess it's just how people are. Even if I felt like this is something I could have shared, I have no interest in being part of a friendship or relationship where the other person views me as the damaged and contaminated person that I am. So even if I were able to trust someone, I probably would not have told them about what happened to me. At this point I simply don't care who knows.
I feel an evil inside me. An evil that makes me want to end life. I need to stop this. I need to make sure I don't kill someone, which is not something that can be easily undone. I don't know if this is related to what happened to me or something different. I recognize the irony of killing myself to prevent myself from killing someone else, but this decision should indicate what I'm capable of.
So I've realized I will never escape the darkness or misery associated with it and I have a responsibility to stop myself from physically harming others.
I'm just a broken, miserable shell of a human being. Being molested has defined me as a person and shaped me as a human being and it has made me the monster I am and there's nothing I can do to escape it. I don't know any other existence. I don't know what life feels like where I'm apart from any of this. I actively despise the person I am. I just feel fundamentally broken, almost non-human. I feel like an animal that woke up one day in a human body, trying to make sense of a foreign world, living among creatures it doesn't understand and can't connect with.
I have accepted that the darkness will never allow me to be in a relationship. I will never go to sleep with someone in my arms, feeling the comfort of their hands around me. I will never know what uncontimated intimacy is like. I will never have an exclusive bond with someone, someone who can be the recipient of all the love I have to give. I will never have children, and I wanted to be a father so badly. I think I would have made a good dad. And even if I had fought through the darkness and married and had children all while being unable to feel intimacy, I could have never done that if suicide were a possibility. I did try to minimize pain, although I know that this decision will hurt many of you. If this hurts you, I hope that you can at least forget about me quickly.
There's no point in identifying who molested me, so I'm just going to leave it at that. I doubt the word of a dead guy with no evidence about something that happened over twenty years ago would have much sway.
You may wonder why I didn't just talk to a professional about this. I've seen a number of doctors since I was a teenager to talk about other issues and I'm positive that another doctor would not have helped. I was never given one piece of actionable advice, ever. More than a few spent a large part of the session reading their notes to remember who I was. And I have no interest in talking about being raped as a child, both because I know it wouldn't help and because I have no confidence it would remain secret. I know the legal and practical limits of doctor/patient confidentiality, growing up in a house where we'd hear stories about the various mental illnesses of famous people, stories that were passed down through generations. All it takes is one doctor who thinks my story is interesting enough to share or a doctor who thinks it's her right or responsibility to contact the authorities and have me identify the molestor (justifying her decision by telling herself that someone else might be in danger). All it takes is a single doctor who violates my trust, just like the "friends" who I told I was gay did, and everything would be made public and I'd be forced to live in a world where people would know how fucked up I am. And yes, I realize this indicates that I have severe trust issues, but they're based on a large number of experiences with people who have shown a profound disrepect for their word and the privacy of others.
People say suicide is selfish. I think it's selfish to ask people to continue living painful and miserable lives, just so you possibly won't feel sad for a week or two. Suicide may be a permanent solution to a temporary problem, but it's also a permanent solution to a ~23 year-old problem that grows more intense and overwhelming every day.
Some people are just dealt bad hands in this life. I know many people have it worse than I do, and maybe I'm just not a strong person, but I really did try to deal with this. I've tried to deal with this every day for the last 23 years and I just can't fucking take it anymore.
I often wonder what life must be like for other people. People who can feel the love from others and give it back unadulterated, people who can experience sex as an intimate and joyous experience, people who can experience the colors and happenings of this world without constant misery. I wonder who I'd be if things had been different or if I were a stronger person. It sounds pretty great.
I'm prepared for death. I'm prepared for the pain and I am ready to no longer exist. Thanks to the strictness of New Jersey gun laws this will probably be much more painful than it needs to be, but what can you do. My only fear at this point is messing something up and surviving.
---
I'd also like to address my family, if you can call them that. I despise everything they stand for and I truly hate them, in a non-emotional, dispassionate and what I believe is a healthy way. The world will be a better place when they're dead--one with less hatred and intolerance.
If you're unfamiliar with the situation, my parents are fundamentalist Christians who kicked me out of their house and cut me off financially when I was 19 because I refused to attend seven hours of church a week.
They live in a black and white reality they've constructed for themselves. They partition the world into good and evil and survive by hating everything they fear or misunderstand and calling it love. They don't understand that good and decent people exist all around us, "saved" or not, and that evil and cruel people occupy a large percentage of their church. They take advantage of people looking for hope by teaching them to practice the same hatred they practice.
A random example:
"I am personally convinced that if a Muslim truly believes and obeys the Koran, he will be a terrorist." - George Zeller, August 24, 2010.
If you choose to follow a religion where, for example, devout Catholics who are trying to be good people are all going to Hell but child molestors go to Heaven (as long as they were "saved" at some point), that's your choice, but it's fucked up. Maybe a God who operates by those rules does exist. If so, fuck Him.
Their church was always more important than the members of their family and they happily sacrificed whatever necessary in order to satisfy their contrived beliefs about who they should be.
I grew up in a house where love was proxied through a God I could never believe in. A house where the love of music with any sort of a beat was literally beaten out of me. A house full of hatred and intolerance, run by two people who were experts at appearing kind and warm when others were around. Parents who tell an eight year old that his grandmother is going to Hell because she's Catholic. Parents who claim not to be racist but then talk about the horrors of miscegenation. I could list hundreds of other examples, but it's tiring.
Since being kicked out, I've interacted with them in relatively normal ways. I talk to them on the phone like nothing happened. I'm not sure why. Maybe because I like pretending I have a family. Maybe I like having people I can talk to about what's been going on in my life. Whatever the reason, it's not real and it feels like a sham. I should have never allowed this reconnection to happen.
I wrote the above a while ago, and I do feel like that much of the time. At other times, though, I feel less hateful. I know my parents honestly believe the crap they believe in. I know that my mom, at least, loved me very much and tried her best. One reason I put this off for so long is because I know how much pain it will cause her. She has been sad since she found out I wasn't "saved", since she believes I'm going to Hell, which is not a sadness for which I am responsible. That was never going to change, and presumably she believes the state of my physical body is much less important than the state of my soul. Still, I cannot intellectually justify this decision, knowing how much it will hurt her. Maybe my ability to take my own life, knowing how much pain it will cause, shows that I am a monster who doesn't deserve to live. All I know is that I can't deal with this pain any longer and I'm am truly sorry I couldn't wait until my family and everyone I knew died so this could be done without hurting anyone. For years I've wished that I'd be hit by a bus or die while saving a baby from drowning so my death might be more acceptable, but I was never so lucky.
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To those of you who have shown me love, thank you for putting up with all my shittiness and moodiness and arbitrariness. I was never the person I wanted to be. Maybe without the darkness I would have been a better person, maybe not. I did try to be a good person, but I realize I never got very far.
I'm sorry for the pain this causes. I really do wish I had another option. I hope this letter explains why I needed to do this. If you can't understand this decision, I hope you can at least forgive me.
Bill Zeller
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Please save this letter and repost it if gets deleted. I don't want people to wonder why I did this. I disseminated it more widely than I might have otherwise because I'm worried that my family might try to restrict access to it. I don't mind if this letter is made public. In fact, I'd prefer it be made public to people being unable to read it and drawing their own conclusions.
Feel free to republish this letter, but only if it is reproduced in its entirety."
I wish I could have known Mr. Zeller. I wish he would have reached out to just one person. I wish so many things. Most importantly, I wish that pedophiles who believe that raping children is considered "love" will stop and think about Bill's words before they destroy another precious soul.
If anyone of you that have read this suicide letter and feels this way, please don't give up. Find help, there are so many different ways to receive help. Don't let the rapists, molesters and pedophiles win. There are many people who care and love you.
I have no idea of what happens to us when we die, by natural causes or by our own hand, but I truly hope Bill has finally found peace and love in death where he could not seem to find in life. God, wrap your arms around Bill and let him feel love.
And Bill, I forgive you - I don't forgive society.
"http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/01/07/bill-zeller-dead-princeto_n_805689.html
I have the urge to declare my sanity and justify my actions, but I assume I'll never be able to convince anyone that this was the right decision. Maybe it's true that anyone who does this is insane by definition, but I can at least explain my reasoning. I considered not writing any of this because of how personal it is, but I like tying up loose ends and don't want people to wonder why I did this. Since I've never spoken to anyone about what happened to me, people would likely draw the wrong conclusions.
My first memories as a child are of being raped, repeatedly. This has affected every aspect of my life. This darkness, which is the only way I can describe it, has followed me like a fog, but at times intensified and overwhelmed me, usually triggered by a distinct situation. In kindergarten I couldn't use the bathroom and would stand petrified whenever I needed to, which started a trend of awkward and unexplained social behavior. The damage that was done to my body still prevents me from using the bathroom normally, but now it's less of a physical impediment than a daily reminder of what was done to me.
This darkness followed me as I grew up. I remember spending hours playing with legos, having my world consist of me and a box of cold, plastic blocks. Just waiting for everything to end. It's the same thing I do now, but instead of legos it's surfing the web or reading or listening to a baseball game. Most of my life has been spent feeling dead inside, waiting for my body to catch up.
At times growing up I would feel inconsolable rage, but I never connected this to what happened until puberty. I was able to keep the darkness at bay for a few hours at a time by doing things that required intense concentration, but it would always come back. Programming appealed to me for this reason. I was never particularly fond of computers or mathematically inclined, but the temporary peace it would provide was like a drug. But the darkness always returned and built up something like a tolerance, because programming has become less and less of a refuge.
The darkness is with me nearly every time I wake up. I feel like a grime is covering me. I feel like I'm trapped in a contimated body that no amount of washing will clean. Whenever I think about what happened I feel manic and itchy and can't concentrate on anything else. It manifests itself in hours of eating or staying up for days at a time or sleeping for sixteen hours straight or week long programming binges or constantly going to the gym. I'm exhausted from feeling like this every hour of every day.
Three to four nights a week I have nightmares about what happened. It makes me avoid sleep and constantly tired, because sleeping with what feels like hours of nightmares is not restful. I wake up sweaty and furious. I'm reminded every morning of what was done to me and the control it has over my life.
I've never been able to stop thinking about what happened to me and this hampered my social interactions. I would be angry and lost in thought and then be interrupted by someone saying "Hi" or making small talk, unable to understand why I seemed cold and distant. I walked around, viewing the outside world from a distant portal behind my eyes, unable to perform normal human niceties. I wondered what it would be like to take to other people without what happened constantly on my mind, and I wondered if other people had similar experiences that they were better able to mask.
Alcohol was also something that let me escape the darkness. It would always find me later, though, and it was always angry that I managed to escape and it made me pay. Many of the irresponsible things I did were the result of the darkness. Obviously I'm responsible for every decision and action, including this one, but there are reasons why things happen the way they do.
Alcohol and other drugs provided a way to ignore the realities of my situation. It was easy to spend the night drinking and forget that I had no future to look forward to. I never liked what alcohol did to me, but it was better than facing my existence honestly. I haven't touched alcohol or any other drug in over seven months (and no drugs or alcohol will be involved when I do this) and this has forced me to evaluate my life in an honest and clear way. There's no future here. The darkness will always be with me.
I used to think if I solved some problem or achieved some goal, maybe he would leave. It was comforting to identify tangible issues as the source of my problems instead of something that I'll never be able to change. I thought that if I got into to a good college, or a good grad school, or lost weight, or went to the gym nearly every day for a year, or created programs that millions of people used, or spent a summer or California or New York or published papers that I was proud of, then maybe I would feel some peace and not be constantly haunted and unhappy. But nothing I did made a dent in how depressed I was on a daily basis and nothing was in any way fulfilling. I'm not sure why I ever thought that would change anything.
I didn't realize how deep a hold he had on me and my life until my first relationship. I stupidly assumed that no matter how the darkness affected me personally, my romantic relationships would somehow be separated and protected.
Growing up I viewed my future relationships as a possible escape from this thing that haunts me every day, but I began to realize how entangled it was with every aspect of my life and how it is never going to release me. Instead of being an escape, relationships and romantic contact with other people only intensified everything about him that I couldn't stand. I will never be able to have a relationship in which he is not the focus, affecting every aspect of my romantic interactions.
Relationships always started out fine and I'd be able to ignore him for a few weeks. But as we got closer emotionally the darkness would return and every night it'd be me, her and the darkness in a black and gruesome threesome. He would surround me and penetrate me and the more we did the more intense it became. It made me hate being touched, because as long as we were separated I could view her like an outsider viewing something good and kind and untainted. Once we touched, the darkness would envelope her too and take her over and the evil inside me would surround her. I always felt like I was infecting anyone I was with.
Relationships didn't work. No one I dated was the right match, and I thought that maybe if I found the right person it would overwhelm him. Part of me knew that finding the right person wouldn't help, so I became interested in girls who obviously had no interest in me. For a while I thought I was gay. I convinced myself that it wasn't the darkness at all, but rather my orientation, because this would give me control over why things didn't feel "right". The fact that the darkness affected sexual matters most intensely made this idea make some sense and I convinced myself of this for a number of years, starting in college after my first relationship ended. I told people I was gay (at Trinity, not at Princeton), even though I wasn't attracted to men and kept finding myself interested in girls. Because if being gay wasn't the answer, then what was? People thought I was avoiding my orientation, but I was actually avoiding the truth, which is that while I'm straight, I will never be content with anyone. I know now that the darkness will never leave.
Last spring I met someone who was unlike anyone else I'd ever met. Someone who showed me just how well two people could get along and how much I could care about another human being. Someone I know I could be with and love for the rest of my life, if I weren't so fucked up. Amazingly, she liked me. She liked the shell of the man the darkness had left behind. But it didn't matter because I couldn't be alone with her. It was never just the two of us, it was always the three of us: her, me and the darkness. The closer we got, the more intensely I'd feel the darkness, like some evil mirror of my emotions. All the closeness we had and I loved was complemented by agony that I couldn't stand, from him. I realized that I would never be able to give her, or anyone, all of me or only me. She could never have me without the darkness and evil inside me. I could never have just her, without the darkness being a part of all of our interactions. I will never be able to be at peace or content or in a healthy relationship. I realized the futility of the romantic part of my life. If I had never met her, I would have realized this as soon as I met someone else who I meshed similarly well with. It's likely that things wouldn't have worked out with her and we would have broken up (with our relationship ending, like the majority of relationships do) even if I didn't have this problem, since we only dated for a short time. But I will face exactly the same problems with the darkness with anyone else. Despite my hopes, love and compatability is not enough. Nothing is enough. There's no way I can fix this or even push the darkness down far enough to make a relationship or any type of intimacy feasible.
So I watched as things fell apart between us. I had put an explicit time limit on our relationship, since I knew it couldn't last because of the darkness and didn't want to hold her back, and this caused a variety of problems. She was put in an unnatural situation that she never should have been a part of. It must have been very hard for her, not knowing what was actually going on with me, but this is not something I've ever been able to talk about with anyone. Losing her was very hard for me as well. Not because of her (I got over our relationship relatively quickly), but because of the realization that I would never have another relationship and because it signified the last true, exclusive personal connection I could ever have.
This wasn't apparent to other people, because I could never talk about the real reasons for my sadness. I was very sad in the summer and fall, but it was not because of her, it was because I will never escape the darkness with anyone. She was so loving and kind to me and gave me everything I could have asked for under the circumstances. I'll never forget how much happiness she brought me in those briefs moments when I could ignore the darkness. I had originally planned to kill myself last winter but never got around to it. (Parts of this letter were written over a year ago, other parts days before doing this.) It was wrong of me to involve myself in her life if this were a possibility and I should have just left her alone, even though we only dated for a few months and things ended a long time ago. She's just one more person in a long list of people I've hurt.
I could spend pages talking about the other relationships I've had that were ruined because of my problems and my confusion related to the darkness. I've hurt so many great people because of who I am and my inability to experience what needs to be experienced. All I can say is that I tried to be honest with people about what I thought was true.
I've spent my life hurting people. Today will be the last time.
I've told different people a lot of things, but I've never told anyone about what happened to me, ever, for obvious reasons. It took me a while to realize that no matter how close you are to someone or how much they claim to love you, people simply cannot keep secrets. I learned this a few years ago when I thought I was gay and told people. The more harmful the secret, the juicier the gossip and the more likely you are to be betrayed. People don't care about their word or what they've promised, they just do whatever the fuck they want and justify it later. It feels incredibly lonely to realize you can never share something with someone and have it be between just the two of you. I don't blame anyone in particular, I guess it's just how people are. Even if I felt like this is something I could have shared, I have no interest in being part of a friendship or relationship where the other person views me as the damaged and contaminated person that I am. So even if I were able to trust someone, I probably would not have told them about what happened to me. At this point I simply don't care who knows.
I feel an evil inside me. An evil that makes me want to end life. I need to stop this. I need to make sure I don't kill someone, which is not something that can be easily undone. I don't know if this is related to what happened to me or something different. I recognize the irony of killing myself to prevent myself from killing someone else, but this decision should indicate what I'm capable of.
So I've realized I will never escape the darkness or misery associated with it and I have a responsibility to stop myself from physically harming others.
I'm just a broken, miserable shell of a human being. Being molested has defined me as a person and shaped me as a human being and it has made me the monster I am and there's nothing I can do to escape it. I don't know any other existence. I don't know what life feels like where I'm apart from any of this. I actively despise the person I am. I just feel fundamentally broken, almost non-human. I feel like an animal that woke up one day in a human body, trying to make sense of a foreign world, living among creatures it doesn't understand and can't connect with.
I have accepted that the darkness will never allow me to be in a relationship. I will never go to sleep with someone in my arms, feeling the comfort of their hands around me. I will never know what uncontimated intimacy is like. I will never have an exclusive bond with someone, someone who can be the recipient of all the love I have to give. I will never have children, and I wanted to be a father so badly. I think I would have made a good dad. And even if I had fought through the darkness and married and had children all while being unable to feel intimacy, I could have never done that if suicide were a possibility. I did try to minimize pain, although I know that this decision will hurt many of you. If this hurts you, I hope that you can at least forget about me quickly.
There's no point in identifying who molested me, so I'm just going to leave it at that. I doubt the word of a dead guy with no evidence about something that happened over twenty years ago would have much sway.
You may wonder why I didn't just talk to a professional about this. I've seen a number of doctors since I was a teenager to talk about other issues and I'm positive that another doctor would not have helped. I was never given one piece of actionable advice, ever. More than a few spent a large part of the session reading their notes to remember who I was. And I have no interest in talking about being raped as a child, both because I know it wouldn't help and because I have no confidence it would remain secret. I know the legal and practical limits of doctor/patient confidentiality, growing up in a house where we'd hear stories about the various mental illnesses of famous people, stories that were passed down through generations. All it takes is one doctor who thinks my story is interesting enough to share or a doctor who thinks it's her right or responsibility to contact the authorities and have me identify the molestor (justifying her decision by telling herself that someone else might be in danger). All it takes is a single doctor who violates my trust, just like the "friends" who I told I was gay did, and everything would be made public and I'd be forced to live in a world where people would know how fucked up I am. And yes, I realize this indicates that I have severe trust issues, but they're based on a large number of experiences with people who have shown a profound disrepect for their word and the privacy of others.
People say suicide is selfish. I think it's selfish to ask people to continue living painful and miserable lives, just so you possibly won't feel sad for a week or two. Suicide may be a permanent solution to a temporary problem, but it's also a permanent solution to a ~23 year-old problem that grows more intense and overwhelming every day.
Some people are just dealt bad hands in this life. I know many people have it worse than I do, and maybe I'm just not a strong person, but I really did try to deal with this. I've tried to deal with this every day for the last 23 years and I just can't fucking take it anymore.
I often wonder what life must be like for other people. People who can feel the love from others and give it back unadulterated, people who can experience sex as an intimate and joyous experience, people who can experience the colors and happenings of this world without constant misery. I wonder who I'd be if things had been different or if I were a stronger person. It sounds pretty great.
I'm prepared for death. I'm prepared for the pain and I am ready to no longer exist. Thanks to the strictness of New Jersey gun laws this will probably be much more painful than it needs to be, but what can you do. My only fear at this point is messing something up and surviving.
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I'd also like to address my family, if you can call them that. I despise everything they stand for and I truly hate them, in a non-emotional, dispassionate and what I believe is a healthy way. The world will be a better place when they're dead--one with less hatred and intolerance.
If you're unfamiliar with the situation, my parents are fundamentalist Christians who kicked me out of their house and cut me off financially when I was 19 because I refused to attend seven hours of church a week.
They live in a black and white reality they've constructed for themselves. They partition the world into good and evil and survive by hating everything they fear or misunderstand and calling it love. They don't understand that good and decent people exist all around us, "saved" or not, and that evil and cruel people occupy a large percentage of their church. They take advantage of people looking for hope by teaching them to practice the same hatred they practice.
A random example:
"I am personally convinced that if a Muslim truly believes and obeys the Koran, he will be a terrorist." - George Zeller, August 24, 2010.
If you choose to follow a religion where, for example, devout Catholics who are trying to be good people are all going to Hell but child molestors go to Heaven (as long as they were "saved" at some point), that's your choice, but it's fucked up. Maybe a God who operates by those rules does exist. If so, fuck Him.
Their church was always more important than the members of their family and they happily sacrificed whatever necessary in order to satisfy their contrived beliefs about who they should be.
I grew up in a house where love was proxied through a God I could never believe in. A house where the love of music with any sort of a beat was literally beaten out of me. A house full of hatred and intolerance, run by two people who were experts at appearing kind and warm when others were around. Parents who tell an eight year old that his grandmother is going to Hell because she's Catholic. Parents who claim not to be racist but then talk about the horrors of miscegenation. I could list hundreds of other examples, but it's tiring.
Since being kicked out, I've interacted with them in relatively normal ways. I talk to them on the phone like nothing happened. I'm not sure why. Maybe because I like pretending I have a family. Maybe I like having people I can talk to about what's been going on in my life. Whatever the reason, it's not real and it feels like a sham. I should have never allowed this reconnection to happen.
I wrote the above a while ago, and I do feel like that much of the time. At other times, though, I feel less hateful. I know my parents honestly believe the crap they believe in. I know that my mom, at least, loved me very much and tried her best. One reason I put this off for so long is because I know how much pain it will cause her. She has been sad since she found out I wasn't "saved", since she believes I'm going to Hell, which is not a sadness for which I am responsible. That was never going to change, and presumably she believes the state of my physical body is much less important than the state of my soul. Still, I cannot intellectually justify this decision, knowing how much it will hurt her. Maybe my ability to take my own life, knowing how much pain it will cause, shows that I am a monster who doesn't deserve to live. All I know is that I can't deal with this pain any longer and I'm am truly sorry I couldn't wait until my family and everyone I knew died so this could be done without hurting anyone. For years I've wished that I'd be hit by a bus or die while saving a baby from drowning so my death might be more acceptable, but I was never so lucky.
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To those of you who have shown me love, thank you for putting up with all my shittiness and moodiness and arbitrariness. I was never the person I wanted to be. Maybe without the darkness I would have been a better person, maybe not. I did try to be a good person, but I realize I never got very far.
I'm sorry for the pain this causes. I really do wish I had another option. I hope this letter explains why I needed to do this. If you can't understand this decision, I hope you can at least forgive me.
Bill Zeller
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Please save this letter and repost it if gets deleted. I don't want people to wonder why I did this. I disseminated it more widely than I might have otherwise because I'm worried that my family might try to restrict access to it. I don't mind if this letter is made public. In fact, I'd prefer it be made public to people being unable to read it and drawing their own conclusions.
Feel free to republish this letter, but only if it is reproduced in its entirety."
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