The Criminologist Comes Home
Chapter 1

                    “A happy life consists not in the absence, but in the mastery of hardships.” (Helen Keller)

I haven’t been home in five years. I tried to come home many times over the last few years. I had the airplane tickets, packed my bags, but I couldn’t make it to the airport let alone get on the plane.  For decades, I have worked with horrific crimes involving children throughout the United States and internationally.  I have been able to stay grounded and focused. But now, suddenly, life as I knew it was different. I now had PTSD. Why? A betrayal I had just experienced was so insurmountable, the violation of trust so unimaginable, I lost everything, except my life. I learned of a scheme perpetuated against an enormous number of women. It was horrific and unconscionable. I was faced with the gut-wrenching decision whether to disclose this unconceivable atrocity or focus on myself.  You see, this time, I was NOT the criminologist working on a case, I was the casualty.

Five years ago, I was faced with a choice; leave my home and possibly survive, or stay home and be dead in months. It may seem like it was an easy choice, but it was by far the most agonizing journey of my life. Leaving and losing everything familiar went to a depth I did not realize would be as excruciating as it was. I thought I was tough enough to navigate it and walk towards the other side with honor, grace, and grit.  That was not the case. Losing everything except my life brought me to my knees. I had to learn how to be grateful simply for my life, while also de-escalating the rage within myself.  Most difficult, was trying to find forgiveness. Should appreciation for survival and some semblance of oneself be enough to forgive? I was forced to look introspectively whether the human spirit could survive losing everything except themselves and move forward? We see that every day now, don’t we?

Upon being told I was going to die, due to taking a prescription, allegedly causing the deaths of hundreds of women, I knew all of my strength and healing had to come from deep within myself. I was encouraged to be the first woman to bring this egregious deceit to light. I searched for even a sliver of forgiveness at the start. I could not, even as a woman who has lived my life embracing forgiveness. I had to circumvent my thoughts that I would have gladly covered the cost of the pharmaceutical kickbacks this medical team allegedly received rather than be their guinea pig.  Trying to block their scheme, they denied my referral to a leading research hospital as their actions could be revealed.  I self-referred. For two years, I raged so deeply in my core, there were moments I wondered how I could ever feel peace again.

After finishing two years of treatment, I uncovered the “Dopesick” mentality of this scheme, unique mostly to rural states. I was threatened for this revelation. Initially, I acquiesced to stay quiet. I healed, grew stronger, and continued my work as a criminologist, but I was never the same. My spirit felt almost dead. I was sure it was.

Today, with the embrace of my dear friend of forty years, I got on that plane, then drove five -hours home finding the peace I never thought I would find again. Early on, I told myself I was tough, my journey was another bump in the road, and I would persevere. Intrinsically, there were many moments I questioned this. I had lost my familiar, my home, my family and friends, incurred astronomical debt, and fought for my life in a way I had never fought for anything; mentally, physically, or spiritually. 

Today, five years later, never really certain the day would come, I came home. I took the boards off my home and dream of a trauma retreat for first responders and front liners. It had taken me twelve years and every spare hour and dollar to build this dream.  The majestic snow- capped mountains and glistening blue waters of the inlet were so powerful that I wept away the rage I had built up for five years.  Now, I feel at peace, a goal of overcoming PTSD. Now, I embrace my dreams for my future; one I never thought I would have. Little did I know that taking the boards off this beautiful trauma retreat, meant for my colleagues in breathtaking Homer, Alaska, would be just what I needed to help overcome my own trauma.

I took a warrior pose on the deck overlooking the blue waters and snow-capped mountains.  I could breathe for the first time in five years.

Can you come home again? I think you can. I fought like hell to get here.