In the beginning of 2004, I was on a cloud. I thought that my ordeal was over, even if the ridiculous trial of child abuse initiated by sicko ex-wife was not. In February 2004, the court had ordered therapeutic supervised visitations and Spitzer, the director of Comprehensive Family Services, was positive: after eight of these, normal, unsupervised visitations would resume, at my place in West Harlem (NY), after two long years of interruption.
During the five therapeutic supervised visitations that I had with my girls, I never had any clear idea as to what therapy exactly consisted of. Perhaps because to me, my relationship did not need any in the first place. All that it needed was just not to be interrupted and let it be without any mingling from family court. Whatever therapy really was, it “worked” to a point. The social worker, Traci Shinabarger, was good and I played the game. I did not see why the visitations could not take place in my apartment but I accepted that temporarily, the choice of the location was to be left to the girls. We went to the library, and various public parks. Visitations went very well. Traci confided that the girls were okay for visitations to be at my place.
This is indeed what she recommended in a letter to the law guardian dated April 29, 2004. The next four visits were to have increasing unsupervised time, and only exchanges were to be supervised for the fourth visits. I was ecstatic. Too ecstatic.
Indeed, the same letter also displayed various features of mother’s alienation of the children. The letter documented several instances in which the mother talked about her issues with me in front of the children and the social worker. Traci stated that “due to the content of the conversations Ms Brodsky has tried to hold with me in front of the children, I am led to believe that unsupportive and disruptive conversations are taking place outside supervision. This type of behavior can single-handedly thwart efforts of therapeutic visits.”
You bet. The next thing I knew was that Traci Shinabarger was no longer the social worker in charge of my case. Spitzer had caved in to Brodsky’s pressure. “Therapy” was over.
In spite of parental alienation syndrome (PAS)’s strident denial by some Neanderthal feminist groups, the PAS symptoms displayed by the alienated children are well-documented. What remains to be explored by psychology tough are the features of the “alienator”, sicko ex-wife, who, like the second women whom Solomon confronts, would rather have her children cut in half than let them exist with somebody else.