Kenneth Robertson
I am a male victim of spousal, judicial and mental health abuses. I have Post Polio Syndrome (PPS) that was (mis)treated as a mental illness at my wife's insistence. I want to publish my book and poems about my abuse and the PPS. My book tells how I came through all the abuse and mistreatment through my faith in the delivering power of God who sent a nurse to my rescue, a woman I was engaged to be married to when I was forced to marry the perpetrator. I almost died from the last beating I got from my ex-wife and her family. I had emergency surgery for it but I never told anyone what had happened until the nurse rescued me.
I enjoy hiking, camping, backpacking, photography, writing poetry and the humanities, especially the performing arts.
My family of origin was a fully functional one that is presently shattered because I revealed the battering by my ex-wife, the mental health professionals, and a judge and because of my recent diagnosis of Post Polio Syndrome. Under their mother's influence, my? sons abandoned me in order to protect their family secrets of the multigenerational abuse of men by their mother and her family.
You would think that as an abused husband that I would be unable to trust women but most of my friends are women. I do have many male friends. These friends are all very compassionate people and they supported me when I was overcoming the problems caused by the abuse and mistreatment. Angel, the nurse who came to my rescue gets the highest honor in my life.
Angels have THAT habit
When I was in a doctors care
I prayed each day that God be there.
Let an angel with me abide
Until I'm happy deep inside.
Let something good occur again
And end this judgment of my sin.
Roll back the clouds of darkest drear
And please, acknowledge that I'm here.
My life has lain in ruin three years
And a river I've cried of tears.
In Angelic apparition,
An answer to this petition
In the form of a friend, a nurse
Saying, "My cousin shares your curse,
She's in the survivors sin
Her turmoil rises deep within.
Her accusation's surely false,
You'd need only feel her pulse
To see the torment in her mind.
This thing repression you will find
Only exists within the cult
That makes its money on insults."
To her my story did unfold
How this deception had its hold
And patiently she did listen
As I glimpsed her halo glisten.
Then once again she spoke to me,
"Go back to God, now don't you flee,
Don't seek for credibility
Receive again your sanity."
She connected me to my past
With information very vast
Using a scrapbook now dated,
Pictures, letters antiquated,
And reminders of that old car
I had driven so very far
Just to take her with her brother
For a visit with their mother.
She arose, left and closed the door.
Would she return? My heart would soar!
She made me happy, that is so,
Angels have THAT habit. You know!