Personal Struggle — Part 6

I decided to jump forward in my narrative and focus on my ex’s far greater crimes than what he did to me. I’ll come back to the aftereffects of my attempted suicide and his subsequent murder attempt with all its details in a later post. I promise.

My son’s Bar Mitzvah at the Western Wall in Jerusalem.

Part 6:

Here, I want to tell you about what he did to his own child. The one who also happens to be my son. There are so many myths and misinformation spread by my ex about this kid (who just turned 20 btw), that my son chose to move to another country and completely changed his name and identity. The name change was the first thing he did when he turned 18. Needless to say, he is not on speaking terms with my ex nor anyone else from that monster family.

He keeps his life and social media profile super private and he doesn’t want anything to do with my ex’s clan. What he went through as a little kid will send chills down your spine. My son is a fighter. He is an incredibly strong and admirable young man.

My ex got me pregnant almost right after I tried to kill myself. The reasons were quite clear. He wasn’t ready to part ways yet. He just opened his first orthodontics office in San Francisco. He had big plans for expanding to East Bay/ Sacramento and the Peninsula. He needed big inflows of cash to do all of that. He was just starting to milk my family.

A child was a perfect solution to insure that I wasn’t going to leave him (at least for some time) and also a great weapon for manipulation and control. A child was also a great money making tool. Think Kevin Federline. I dunno what Kevin’s plans are for supporting his large family after his kids with Britney turn 18. Is he going to start working?

I already mentioned that my ex was always a great chess player who calculated everything 50 moves ahead. How would one ensure that child support never ends even after the child turns 18? One way to do it (or the only way) is to make this child physically or mentally disabled and thus requiring ongoing guardianship and financial support.

After I gave birth, my eyes began to open and I soon realized that I made a huge mistake by marrying this person. It took me 2 years to work up the courage to file for a divorce because he would constantly threaten me that I would lose custody of my son the minute he would bring up the fact that I tried to commit suicide in the past.

For the last few months of our “marriage,” I actually tried to separate with him several times. Unsuccessfully. More on that in a later post. I also knew that he was planning to file for a divorce himself. At some point, it became a competition of who was going to do it first. It was me who finally pulled the trigger.

It would be a huge understatement to say that my ex was upset when I finally kicked him out of the house, changed the locks, and served the divorce papers. For the first time in his life he lost and he wasn’t the one to initiate the breakup. He told me that nobody had ever dared to leave him. EVER. I will never forget how he swore that he was going to make my life a living hell.

After 2 years of marriage he was in a much better financial position. He now had 3 practice locations, 2 real estate properties, and stock options in a startup company (for which he forced me to sign a postnup). Do you think it is possible to achieve all of the above by hard work alone? There are many people who believe the fairytales of his self made success. I don’t know where their common sense is.

Whatever he gained during our marriage wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more money AND he wanted to punish me. He knew that the only way to hurt me and make me vulnerable was to hurt my son.

He developed an ingenious plan that killed 2 birds with one stone. He was going to make my son sick and completely incapacitated so that he could continue milking my family and at the same time hurt me like never before. He thought he could always extort money from my parents for his endless “treatments and therapies” for their grandson and later for the boy’s living expenses at some institutional facility.

He could also ensure that I would suffer by watching my son being abused and experimented on without being able to do anything about it. At first, he was sure that he would get full legal custody and force me to comply with whatever crazy shit he’d come up with for my son. Just for the pure pleasure of tormenting me.

Now this information is going to be hard for a lot of people. People who know my ex and have heard him speak about how much he loves his son will find this hard to believe. They might not want to hear it because it might forever alter their perception of what’s real. It might also force them to reexamine their relationship with this individual who is worse than a monster (coincidentally born under a very rare black moon).

I have a lot to unload here. This story will also have to be told in several parts.

There is a very big court file out there. 14 years long. Most of it is publicly available BTW.

At the foundation of it all lies my ex’s main false statement that my son is autistic. Everything else is sort of layered on top of it. Let’s start from the beginning of how it was all fabricated.

I filed for divorce less than a month after my son turned 2. The last few months leading up to it were especially rough. There was a lot of fighting and screaming in the house. I was 23. I was too young to realize that such a tense and stressful environment could have a negative effect on a little baby. A baby who was extremely sensitive and perceptive from day one. My son was stressed out. He was nervous and anxious from all the negativity that was there. He didn’t want to talk.

So he didn’t want to talk. Not a big deal, right? At 2 years old? Well…my ex made the biggest deal out of and he blamed me for being the worst mother because my son wasn’t talking in full sentences by 2. Until that point, my ex barely spent any time with my son. He wasn’t interested. Every time he would hold him for as little as a few seconds, my son would get all hyper and cry hysterically. In fact, all our babysitters tried to limit his contact with my ex, because it would take forever to get him to calm down. Every single time.

After each such interaction, my ex would find more and more things that were wrong with my baby. Every time, he saw some developmental delay or neurological issue. Of course, I was to blame. I didn’t spend enough time with him, I didn’t play enough with him, I didn’t teach him enough, I didn’t socialize him enough, I didn’t take him to enough baby classes and playdates, and so on. He never looked at him like a normal father would. He only examined and judged his every move. As if this baby was some sort of science experiment.

I now realize that he had no intention of developing any emotional attachments to this child. He hated me with a passion and he hated everything that was related to me. It should be noted that at the start of our divorce proceedings he wasn’t asking for physical custody. He only wanted legal. He was more than fine with the baby living with me full time. He only wanted control. He switched his position on physical timeshare at some point later. I was quite surprised when he did that.

Right after I served the papers on him, he made an appointment for my son at UCSF to be evaluated for “suspected autism.” I was so young and stupid. I didn’t realize how serious this appointment was and how grave its consequences. I was just trying to get my ex off my back and stop bugging me about this.

There was a long waitlist to be seen by that renowned pediatric psychiatrist and my ex had an insider connection. One of his former med school classmates from Harvard was married to a doctor who did her psychiatric residency at UCSF under that professor and we got in without a wait.

For her formal evaluation, that professor saw my son for only a few minutes. Most of the time she spent interviewing my ex. I can only imagine what he must have told her because I wasn’t there with him. I was with my son in another room where some other young therapist was trying to speak to him in English, a language he didn’t understand at all because he was only exposed to Russian until that point.

Even though, this professor said herself at that appointment that it was too early to diagnose for anything definitive at 2 years old, she nevertheless produced a lengthy official report (per request of the ex who was such a good friend of her favorite student) stating that my son was on the spectrum.

My ex was now amplified with this report, which became the biggest weapon in his arsenal. No other professional dared to question the validity of the autism diagnosis given by such a renowned expert in this field. Every time I tried to dispute it, I was perceived as the crazy mother who is refusing to to acknowledge and treat her autistic son.

At one point, this report led me to be forced to fly to a “special” clinic in Chicago famous for its off label use of chelation to “treat” autistic kids. For those of you who don’t know, chelation involves a series of IV infusions of ethylenediaminetetraacetic acid (EDTA) and some other non FDA-approved drugs. It’s like getting chemo.

When I walked into that clinic, I thought that I was transported in time and space to Dr. Mengele’s clinic at Auschwitz. Those harrowing screams and cries of children still haunt me. I couldn’t believe that something so terrifying could be happening today in the U.S. That time, my ex wasn’t there and I was able to grab my son and run away under the risk of losing custody.

There were other times when I wasn’t there and my son was alone with my ex. He wasn’t this lucky then. This report led my son to experience inhumane treatment and abuse at the hands of my ex and with the aide of the multibillion dollar industry of Autism. Boy, do I have a lot to say about that one…

To be continued…