Worst LDS Sexual Abuse Ever Told!
Posted: Wed Nov 23, 2011 8:54 am
In the mid 1980's, there was a diabolical mental hospital in Provo called Charter House. It was built right next to the weed-sprouting parking lot of the long ago vacated Donnie and Marie Studios. What made Charter House so particularly evil was its business model. Charter House would open feeder offices and those feeder offices were expected to send a certain percentage of patients back to the Provo hospital. Just like a missionary would like to convert every prospect, Charter House wanted to send every patient it got from the feeder clinics back to the hospital... and like missionaries, there were minimum numbers of patients that each office was expected to "convert" into hospital in-patients.
About this same time, I started coming down with non-stop chronic headaches. It was not a mental problem at all... it was a physical problem but at the time, I didn't know that. So out in rural Nevada, Charter House opened a feeder office in my little town of less than 10,000. I walked into the office and started talking to a missionary looking guy that called himself "counselor". Naturally, my problem can only be helped by admitting myself into the Provo hospital.
Once Charter House got someone to admit themselves, all the services were ala cart, in addition to the $500/day inpatient fee. A person could easily rack up an extra $1000 per day in ala cart fees. To talk with a doctor was $200 (15 min), to talk with a psychologist was $150 (15 min), group therapy with two counselors was $200 per patient (1 hr). On top of that, one of the staff doctors wanted to needlessly set my sprained ankle in a cast just to earn another fee. The way Charter House saw it, checking into Charter House was like someone landing on Boardwalk... with hotels.
Where's the story of the worst LDS sexual abuse ever told? It came from the group therapy meeting that Charter House insisted I attend. We were all going around in a circle introducing ourselves and telling why we were at Charter House. "My name's Charles and I have a sta sta sta sut stuttering problem", said one. "My name's Molly and I'm too afraid to leave my house", said another. And so it went until it came around to Ezmerelda who had a story so graphic she spent the next hour telling it all.
In her late 40's, Ezmerelda's immediate problem was the rope burns on her neck. Her grandchildren had recently found grandma swinging from the high rafters of the family garage. They had trouble removing her neck from the ligature. Ezmerelda was feeling guilt, guilt so intense that she had decided she needed strangle herself to ease the pain. It was do-it-yourself. She knew all about do-it-yourself.
I suppose Ezmerelda's problems began at age 5, at which time her mother passed away. Her father became a working single man supporting a large family with no time to date and, especially, no money to date. So, from age 5 through 12, Ezmerelda was made to satisfy her father. At sexual maturity, her father felt it too risky to continue using his daughter in such manner. Her life was finally improving until a year later when her 18 year-old brother started having her at age 13.
At some point later, Ezmerelda became pregnant. She concluded it was her problem and she would be the one to deal with it. Fashioning a tool out of a wire coat hanger, she successfully performed on herself a self abortion. More than 20 years afterwards, Ezmerelda could no longer bear the knowledge of having been the one who had murdered her brother's baby.
Suddenly, whatever problems I thought I had didn't seem very significant. Several hours later, I checked myself out into the darkness of early morning.
About this same time, I started coming down with non-stop chronic headaches. It was not a mental problem at all... it was a physical problem but at the time, I didn't know that. So out in rural Nevada, Charter House opened a feeder office in my little town of less than 10,000. I walked into the office and started talking to a missionary looking guy that called himself "counselor". Naturally, my problem can only be helped by admitting myself into the Provo hospital.
Once Charter House got someone to admit themselves, all the services were ala cart, in addition to the $500/day inpatient fee. A person could easily rack up an extra $1000 per day in ala cart fees. To talk with a doctor was $200 (15 min), to talk with a psychologist was $150 (15 min), group therapy with two counselors was $200 per patient (1 hr). On top of that, one of the staff doctors wanted to needlessly set my sprained ankle in a cast just to earn another fee. The way Charter House saw it, checking into Charter House was like someone landing on Boardwalk... with hotels.
Where's the story of the worst LDS sexual abuse ever told? It came from the group therapy meeting that Charter House insisted I attend. We were all going around in a circle introducing ourselves and telling why we were at Charter House. "My name's Charles and I have a sta sta sta sut stuttering problem", said one. "My name's Molly and I'm too afraid to leave my house", said another. And so it went until it came around to Ezmerelda who had a story so graphic she spent the next hour telling it all.
In her late 40's, Ezmerelda's immediate problem was the rope burns on her neck. Her grandchildren had recently found grandma swinging from the high rafters of the family garage. They had trouble removing her neck from the ligature. Ezmerelda was feeling guilt, guilt so intense that she had decided she needed strangle herself to ease the pain. It was do-it-yourself. She knew all about do-it-yourself.
I suppose Ezmerelda's problems began at age 5, at which time her mother passed away. Her father became a working single man supporting a large family with no time to date and, especially, no money to date. So, from age 5 through 12, Ezmerelda was made to satisfy her father. At sexual maturity, her father felt it too risky to continue using his daughter in such manner. Her life was finally improving until a year later when her 18 year-old brother started having her at age 13.
At some point later, Ezmerelda became pregnant. She concluded it was her problem and she would be the one to deal with it. Fashioning a tool out of a wire coat hanger, she successfully performed on herself a self abortion. More than 20 years afterwards, Ezmerelda could no longer bear the knowledge of having been the one who had murdered her brother's baby.
Suddenly, whatever problems I thought I had didn't seem very significant. Several hours later, I checked myself out into the darkness of early morning.