March 30, 2011

The Center for Healing Spiritual and Cultic Abuse - One year in the making?

Earlier tonight I read the following quote from one of the "notes" posted on the Facebook page for The Center for Healing Spiritual and Cultic Abuse (link defunct as of October, 2011). John M. Knapp, LMSW and founder/executive director, states (italics mine):

"It may have taken almost exactly a year, but our new nonprofit, The Center for Healing Spiritual and Cultic Abuse, http://theCHSCA.org/, is now up and running."

The above quote is stated in a post dated March 22, 2011. Almost exactly a year would then be March 22, 2010.

When John Knapp first brought up the idea of a nonprofit with me on May 08, 2010, he stated in a private email to me that he had not run his idea by anyone else. Shortly afterward, he shared with me that he was thinking of calling the organization something like The Knapp Center for Healing.

By the end of May, I had decided to volunteer accepting John's proposal for me to act as a type of editor-in-chief for the up and coming, still formulating nonprofit.

On August 2, 2010, due to certain circumstances, I resigned from my positions of administrator and moderator on a separate discussion board John owned(owns)[corresponding with my nonprofit position]. At that time, John shut down that online discussion board (which as of February, 2011, was reactivated) and stated (among other things) in a private email to me, "Wow was this all a mistake. But I've made them before. I'll think about what went wrong here, rest a bit, and then start again." Within 13 hours after that email, John cut off all contact with me.

In November, 2010, I learned that the name of the then developing organization was going to be The Center for Spiritual and Cultic Abuse (CSCA). Apparently, sometime after mid-November, 2010, the name was changed to The Center for Healing Spiritual and Cutlic Abuse (CHSCA)

All that to say, I'm not sure where John Knapp gets "that it has taken almost exactly a year" for "our new non-profit" to be "up and running." I'm not referring to the name changes, but the actual one-year development.

Perhaps John got his "M" months mixed up - March and May? But really, is even May correct? Perhaps he had brought the nonprofit idea up with others and had simply forgotten that. But then, his Facebook quote states, "it may have taken," not "it took." The joy of semantics.

Regardless, the statement kind of reminds of The Way claiming their founding date as 1942 with Victor Paul Wierwille's Vesper Chimes radio show. Actually Wierwille didn't establish The Way until 1955, two years before he resigned from the Evangelical and Reformed Church in 1957.

A small detail in the scheme of things. I just kind of wonder, along with other ponderings, why folks make certain claims like that?

Then again, the initial thought of an idea is the beginning point of formulation.

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Note: See this post for my retraction of previous endorsements of John M. Knapp. To access an ongoing index, click here and scroll down to the section entitled June 26, 2011.
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March 26, 2011

~random thoughts in march~

I lay in bed the past hour or so unable to sleep, my mind coursing with thoughts of life in the past couple weeks. People. Places. Music. Toddlers. Animals.

Life stories of others.

The father who gambled away his family's earnings. The lady who lost her husband to cancer and his pets that remain ticking away the days. The teenager who has siblings helping him through panic attacks.

Stories behind the stories. Stories within the stories.

My own stories.

Like two weekends ago when my son and I were hiking 15 miles on the island, planning to arrive back at camp around midnight. Never did we imagine that I'd have to call 911 and have a ranger come to our aid at 9:30 in the dark. The ranger's name was, still is, Shad - after Shadrach in the Bible.

Shad was awesome, assuring my son and I that we had done the right thing by calling and to not be embarrassed. Even Shad himself, who was in charge of back country rescue for 10 years in Alaska, flying planes into deserted territory in the arctic extremes - even he had gotten lost for 3 days once in his own park. Of course he had millions of acres. My son and I were on the small island. My biggest fear when my son got lost was the alligators; we had just seen two a couple hours earlier.

I lay in bed tonight thinking of when I may write about the island trip.

I lay thinking about the dogs I'd walked this week. About the children with whom I'd sang and danced. About the art that still needs to be packed this weekend, and payments that need to be tallied.

I lay thinking about the retraction regarding my ex-therapist, the decision I made to publicly post it this week. Some of the anxiety has eased from that scenario. I'm still left with residual self-doubt. Self-doubt. One of my plagues for decades, my inner gremlin poking at me leaving my heart jostled. "Have I revealed too much? What should I reveal? What shouldn't I reveal? Who can I trust? If I don't reveal the evidence, then I may look like a fool. If I do reveal the evidence, then I may look like a low life exposing another's dirty laundry."

As I sat with my current counselor this week reading to him from my journal, I read, "I have not falsely accused. I have evidence for everything I have reported." He agreed. He is about as objective as anyone I know.

I think I'm coming to the conclusion that I still believe there is a creator. I thought the other day that perhaps I am a detheist, a combination of a theist and a deist. But I don't think the two can be combined. If I don't blame God for my problems, how can I pray to God to help me fix them? To me, if a god intervenes with help for me, I'm grateful. But I don't expect intervention.

Gratitude is a great equalizer.

March 23, 2011

John M. Knapp, LMSW: Endorsements Retraction

March 23, 2011

John M. Knapp, LMSW and executive director of the Center for Healing Spiritual and Cultic Abuse (TheCHSCA.org), is a therapist specializing in cult-recovery counseling.

I was a client of John's for right at two years, in which the latter eight months John and I became 'friends' and were 'like colleagues' in the field of activism regarding recovery from toxic groups and/or cults.

At various places on the web, I previously endorsed John's services and activism.

Unfortunately, I currently can no longer endorse John M. Knapp, LMSW. Our relationship ended in an abrupt, harmful, and unexpected manner on August 2, 2010. At the end of September, 2010, I filed a formal complaint with New York State Office of Professions. The investigation regarding my complaint is still in process.

At some point, I may (or may not) publish the details surrounding part of the circumstances that led to and the reasons for my retraction. Once the investigation is complete, I may post my complaint and the results of the investigation.

To life,
~carol

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Update - January 14, 2014:
New York state found John M. Knapp "...guilty of professional misconduct; Penalty: Revocation...Licensee was found guilty of practicing his profession with negligence, as well as with incompetence, on more than one occasion, and of unprofessional conduct." January, 2014 Summaries of Regents Actions on Professional Misconduct and Discipline



Click the following links to read what constitutes "professional misconduct" and "unprofessional conduct."
Professional Misconduct
Unprofessional Conduct

~*~
Click here to access the complaint and a timeline of events.

~*~

March 16, 2011

A short trip to an island....

My 20-year old son and I just returned from a spectacular backpacking trip to Cumberland Island, Georgia. I'm left almost speechless in regard to the beauty of the island, the time spent walking beneath the canopy of live oaks strewn with Spanish moss, hearing the ocean lap the shore, patiently admiring the fascinating armadillo as her nose scurries back and forth under the forest bed of leaves and pine needles, gasping at the 9-foot long alligator in Whitney Lake, pondering as I peered up and down the human-deserted beach, listening to the life stories of the few people we met along the trails, and conversing with one of the youth of today - that is my son.

I have great hope in our youth. My young adult son and daughter and their friends are people of whom to be proud. They take pride in their life, their work, their purpose as they continue to search for what that purpose is. They want to be socially responsible and make a positive impact on the world. I met a few college students who were also backpacking the island. They are taking on responsibility in life.

On our 7-hour drive home my son stated that he imagines he had the best spring break of anyone at his community college. A spring break he spent with me, his 51-year old mom, backpacking an island across some 25 to 30 miles. He spoke of the human desire for freedom - one of the reasons he enjoys backpacking, the feeling of freedom. And there is a certain freedom therein. Like all freedom, it comes with responsibility. In the wild, one can very quickly discover if they are not acting with responsibility.

The feral horses that roam the island eat the Spanish moss that hangs from giant branches of the live oak trees. There is an abundance of the unusual spaghetti-like plant. I imagine the horses will be eating it for a long while with unknown gratitude to the people they never met who took on the responsibility of fighting for that island, allowing the native habitat to continue as the true and rightful owners.

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March 10, 2011

No More Secrets

no more secrets
december 6, 2010,


I've found myself being 'eat up' again by the Knapp crap. I finally figured out what was getting at me, but not until I was reviewing the emails Sam sent me. Reviewing or anal-eyezing...whichever it was. I guess it was an analysis of John's twisting of the situation in which John put Sam.

As I was reading what John wrote to Sam and the others, I realized I was holding back from Sam. I was, in a sense, covering for John, still giving him the benefit of the doubt.

It was subtle, this justification for John; but I felt it and it felt wrong. It felt like I wasn't really being honest.

I don't want to believe that John could actually be a handler.

Mia's phrase went through my head: "John will continue to misstep; he can't help himself."

I decided to throw off the rationalizations. I told myself, "That's not evil Carol; it is simply seeing what happened. Nor is it non-compassionate toward John."

I let Sam know how I saw the picture within the emails he sent me; emails from John to the group Sam had been a part of. I weighed them with what I know of Sam's situation from our 2-1/2 hours worth of Skype conversations, from what I know of my situation, from what I know of three other people's personal Knapp scenarios, and from what I've read on the web. I can't deny what I've experienced, what I've heard, what I've read.

I am open to information that would prove me wrong. And if I'm wrong, I'll step up and admit it. If that would happen, I'd also be understanding with myself.

Plus I didn't go looking for any of this.

It's just like the GreaseSpot drama. It quite literally fell in my lap.

I'll never forget standing at my kitchen sink after the GreaseSpot and The Safety Net backroom antics hit the proverbial fan. I stood at my sink thinking that if this stuff was important enough to go to a court of law, the egg would be all over certain GreaseSpot moderators. As I stood at the sink, I had a feeling in my gut that at some point I'd have to stand up for something that was more serious than what happened on that discussion board. I had this gut feeling that it was preparation for something in the future.

As small as the Knapp scenario is, it has still been an ordeal for me.

But never did I ask for any of this. And in my wildest imagination I never thought I'd be wanting to expose my therapist for abusive tactics.

Back in 2006, all I prayed to God for was, "No secrets." I wanted to know. I wanted my heart open and I wanted to see. I didn't want anymore secrets! So perhaps I did ask for this - "this" being the exposure of the underbellies of webs of deceit, the exposure of my own vulnerabilities and how I too can get pulled in, and I don't know what else.

Sam came to me about John; I did not approach Sam. He wants some answers. He is perhaps as baffled with his Knapp experience as I was/am with mine. But he wasn't a client; he was a colleague.

Today, after I wrote Sam regarding my thoughts about John's emails, the feeling of me being "eaten up" by this crap was dissipating. I felt a certain freedom. I realized that I am not going to remain silent. Sam asked me for information; I didn't go to him. But I had been holding back because I felt in that awful place again about what I should or shouldn't say. Whether or not I'm gossiping or assigning evil or...scapegoating? Checking my motives. Not wanting to blame John. Feeling so much of this should be kept in confidence.

And then I thought, "Fuck it. Am I playing John's game by muzzling myself? Isn't that how abusers win? Carol you know that it is how abusers win. But is John an abuser? Well, look at the little wake you are starting to see. You can't deny the obvious."

Then I had the paranoia thought, "What if John sent Sam to you to get information, to see what you would reveal to Sam, to see if John can catch you in your words Carol." I stopped that thought. If John does that, he'll be in a heap of trouble, I would think. I'm not responsible for John. I'm responsible for me. I do what I must do to keep my integrity the best I know how.

I thought of what Joe stated...about the bullet points. I've avoided the exercise at least for one reason of not wanting to admit that I do want to expose John. I do feel a desire for vengeance. Any 'vengeance' motive, I'll keep in check. I'll allow universe to handle that aspect. But, it is not vengeance to speak my truth.

So what are a few goals I want regarding my situation with Knapp:

1 - I think that at some point I want to post my retraction blog entry; I want to expose John. But I don't want to muck the investigation or do anything that would put me in harm's way legally. I'll also need to be prepared for my own emotional responses once I post. My concerns regarding Sam and Anita have already been handled - at least somewhat.

2 - I want to let the investigator know about John's non-profit. Personally, I'd like to see it shut down because I don't trust John. That said I have no control over whether it shuts down or not. Perhaps it will help some people. Fine and good; I still wouldn't recommend it unless John makes a big change.

3 - I want to be at peace with myself, to feel that I have acted with as much integrity as I know how.

4 - I want to not think about the situation everyday. At the same time I want to not forget it. I want it to be incorporated into my life's lessons, my personal curriculum of life events.

5 - I'd like to see John held accountable for what happened to me, that he does receive disciplinary action with enough impact so that this sort of thing doesn't happen to another client.

Some of my goals may change. And that's o.k.

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Note: In June/July, 2011,  I changed John Knapp's pseudonym in this piece to his real name.
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Note: The above is more from my personal journal and/or other writings as I moved through the inner turmoil after the Knapp trauma which happened the end of July/beginning of August, 2010. The sharings are simply my thoughts at the time processing through events that took place with my ex-therapist, John M. Knapp, LMSW. To access an ongoing index, click here and scroll down to the section entitled June 26, 2011.
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March 5, 2011

Cultic Abuse Flipside

Jethro, my god-dog, is sleeping over here tonight through Tuesday night. He is such a sweetie.

Yerba was here last night and tonight and will be here tomorrow night.

It's fun and fascinating to watch the two dogs play. Their teeth look so ferocious; yet, they know just the right jaw pressure to use for play. I hear their teeth click each other as they tussle with mouths wide open. I've named their game "dawg jawing."
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Last night, in the wee morning hours, I peeked in on Knapp's new non-profit site. It appears to be up and running. When I saw it, I was cut to the heart, and I felt sick to my stomach.

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.

It seems silly, I guess. But I can't deny the pain it causes.

It's been seven months now since Knapp cut me down and then cut me off. It was like two swoops with a machete. In one journal entry back in August or September I called it a "slice and hatchet."

After my gut wrench upon seeing the site and it reminding me that I was going to have a platform there, so to speak,...I felt jilted. I felt used. But in what way was I used? That, I am not sure of.

Here is a cult-recovery counselor setting up a cult-recovery non-profit service to help folks who are exiting abusive cultic groups and/or relationships. Yet, my experience with that counselor ended up much the same as with a cult. Influence, dependence, even a type of love-bombing(?), blame-shifting, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, negligence, and even shunning. I still shake my head in disbelief.

Anymore, I don't know about these cult-recovery organizations and groups. I'm beginning to think many in the cult-recovery field are just another power-hungry looking-to-influence sales force.

And maybe it's not "many," but rather "some."

Regardless, I will judge various cult-recovery organizations based on my and others' experiences with said group or persons. I'll pay attention to my gut within reason. I want to trust people but not be naive. A few bad apples don't spoil the whole bunch, but they sure can make one sick.

I had to take two Xanax last night after I saw Knapp's non-profit site. I can't go back to that site for a long while. It plain old hurts too much.

After my gut wrench, I cursed Knapp in a prayer.

Then I hurt that I would curse him.

I then brought to mind that which I have control over and which, a couple months ago, I promised to myself regarding this whole fiasco.
  • speak my truth
  • uphold my integrity
  • not succumb to silencing myself
  • be an advocate for me
  • be truthful
  • be open to possible various outcomes

This morning I posted a retraction on a site where I had previously recommended Knapp. I wrote it in order to not succumb to silencing myself and to be truthful.

I am reminding myself to be open to possible various outcomes. I have to walk away and do so with some integrity.

I will publish any writing about it on my time table, which means when I want to. That may be soon, may be later, may be never.

Apparently Knapp didn't respect my resignation request from being moderator and administrator of his online discussion board which he re-activated last month. Maybe he had to re-activate it for the investigator. Either way, it bothers me that I'm still listed after I clearly resigned in August.

Here I am concerned about hurting him if I ever post my story. What of the harm he has wrought, not only in regard to me, but others as well?
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Dawg-jawing. Maybe dog is man's best friend.

I registered my domain name today for my new business. I look forward to caring for the beloved critters.

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Note: On 6/13/11, I changed John Knapp's pseudonym in this piece to his real name.
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To access an ongoing index, click here and scroll down to the section entitled June 26, 2011.
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March 2, 2011

Doorbell in Full Dress

AWW ~ 3/02/11
non-subject: searching
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Searching.
Us humans.
Always searching.
Anything that is alive searches.
It is the nature of the beast.
To search for sustenance,
whether it be physical or emotional or mental.
Even at the end of life,
there may be a longing
for death to come quickly.

Longing is a type of searching.

Sometime in the past few years, I've counted the places I've lived since I was 17 years old. The total came to 23 places. I last moved when I was 44 years old. That comes out to 23 moves in 27 years. No wonder I have a difficult time feeling settled. I've lived in my current house, in this year of 2011, for 7-1/2 years.

Up until I was 17 I only lived in two places, that I know of. Most of that time, from the ages of 2 until I was 17, my residence was at one house. I'd move in and out of that house a couple more times, until finally at age 25 I made the permanent move away from my house of developmental years.

1981. Sometime in the late winter or early spring I think it was, because Kathy and Nancy and I were living in the split-level house over off 16th Avenue in Viewmont, a community that is part of the city of Hickory. The house was brick with green siding. There was a fenced-in backyard where Jessica, a dog someone had given me, ran and played.

Kathy, Nancy, and I were loyal Way believers living in a "Way Home." A Way Home was a home where Way believers lived together, prayed together, ate together, ran Way fellowships and classes together, heard from God together, and moved the Word together. The Way didn't furnish any housing or supplies or monetary supplement for a Way home. All who lived in Way homes and moved the Word were volunteers.

I worked waitressing at a local pub. Kathy washed windows. Nancy must have worked at a bank or in some sort of money management.

Kathy was on her Interim year assignment of the 10th Way Corps. She was originally from North Dakota and was in her early to mid-20s. Nancy, a native North Carolinian, was also in her early to mid-20s and had been with the Ministry since she was around 16 years old.

I was 21 and had been "in the Word" for a little over 3 years.

I had been in the 10th Corps with Kathy. This Ministry year, 1980-81, had been my Interim Corps year; but I had failed, miserably. I had started the year as a W.O.W. Ambassador Team Coordinator in Connecticut; that was my Corps assignment. But I'd quit without notice, leaving my team high and dry. I'd hitch hiked alone to North Carolina, my home state, from Connecticut in early fall of 1980.

There was nothing worse than breaking your word, a deplorable sign of betrayal without integrity.

Now I was in this Way home with Kathy and Nancy, getting back to the "It Is Written" standard - my goal being to reenter The Way Corps in order to serve God and His people, to fulfill my calling.

On that 1981 late winter or early spring night, whichever it was, in the split-level home in Viewmont, I sat in the living room. I'm pretty sure I was sitting in an upholstered chair reading my Bible when the door bell rang. I looked out. There stood two police officers in full uniform.

I opened the door and asked, "May I help you?"

"Yes," they responded. "Is this where Carol Hamby lives?"

"I'm Carol," I answered wondering what they wanted with me.

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