So one afternoon I’m sitting with Daniel at his psychiatric appointment because apparently he doesn’t lie when I’m in attendance with him. Odd, but true. I’m not really allowed to talk, just sit there. Clearly, I can make eye contact with him. Raise an eyebrow, pointedly stare, which I’m rather good at doing. I couldn’t help myself when I knew he’d be doling crap. Which is why I had been requested to sit in at some of his sessions. Lucky me.
Daniel had always talked to me. One of the reasons I was fascinated by his mind. Knowing he was diagnosed psychopathic, and knowing the psychiatric background of his mother, I knew his mind was a goldmine of information. So was his mothers. And since they didn’t see me as a professional, I wasn’t a threat to them. They could tell me anything. And they did. Much of it horrifying.
This particular afternoon, Daniel was talking about voyeurism. I already knew some of his past stories, beginning with his childhood. How he convinced a little girl when he was 9 years old and she was 7 to prance before him up on a boat rack his father had made behind the garage. He had convinced her to take off her panties and he’d throw mud balls at her vagina. That was his earliest sexual memory.
Then the bomb hits. He turns to me and says he’s been watching me. He tells me that he had created a hole in the wall of the ceiling of the bathroom so that when I was in the shower or just in the bathroom, he could watch me. Deal was, I couldn’t say a word. I wasn’t there for therapy, he was.
So there I am, stoic, quiet, blazing eyes, thinking a million thoughts. Feeling humiliated at the time. I knew he had committed this act on others, friends of his. But me? Whoa, the buck stops here. Apparently not. I did not consent, nor did the people he told me about. The little girl that he threw the mud balls at did not understand what she was consenting to. He was violating the law, although the law is sketchy depending on where you live geographically.
According to the DSM, voyeurs may have a background of alcohol and drug abuse, be obsessive-compulsive, have a background of childhood abuse, anti-social behaviors, attention-deficit disorder, personality disorders, bi-polar disorder and more. So no surprise there. My first reaction I believe was justified, and then I realized, it’s not my fault. I didn’t create him. I did not cause these behaviors. If it wasn’t me, it would have been another woman. And probably still is.
Just another rock to step over.
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