Don's Victim Statement - Elder Abuse Torture

Revised November 27, 2015. Still without Justice, since Xmas Eve 2008.
Christmas and far from Home - God doesn't like this Crime - April 17, 1933 [Dons' birthday] The day Christ was born.
In 1933, it was Easter Monday.

Doctor Lundell; This is a picture of him. I wish he was alive today.
He is alive in the other world; the one so many doubt exists.
He knew that BPD was best healed by God.
I Don Wesley took this picture of Fred.
He never prescribed  medical drugs.
He just caressed my whole family for over 11 years. 

( www.google.com/+donwesley )

November 27, 2015 Christmas time now.

A slightly revised Story, just short of the injury predicted by our Family Psychiatrist, Doctor Fred Lundell.  

The Divorce went through June 9, 2013.

I have yet to see a cent of my lost wealth

A song from the heart - "Ne me quitte pas"
Look this song up on YouTube...  

“Resources to Rags – An Elder’s Earnings, Stolen by Fraud in an Unjust Civilization.”

“Five Christmas Eves, away from Home”

Hi, old pal, Victor Roth,

Our time-line of friendship started in 1942, in Montreal, Canada.

We have watched each other over these years with our growing awareness of what wisdom is all about.

By making mistakes, we learned what behaviours to avoid. Without mistakes there is no learning.

This story, which I am revealing here, is about the mistakes my Family made. Mistakes which some might refer to as evil. Other names can also be used. But evil fits my foundational world-view-system of logic and intuition.

And their evil doings, leave me to suffer. The name today, given to the suffering is called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. PTSD. Years ago it had no name and therefore did not exist as far as most people knew. A subset is called Legal Abuse Syndrome; check Google about it!

My son, Doctor Steven John Wesley, a Psychiatrist, knows better but doesn’t care.

His, not-caring, is a symptom of Psychopathy. [More in another story]

He is successful and I believe very helpful to his patients, except the first.

I must say at this point that I love all my Family and Francyne; but hate what they have done to me.

I repeat that I love them and care about them and always have. I miss them. Only my relationship to God and his Son are more important to me. This is my world viewpoint. I am just about 80, and it has served me well. That relationship, has kept me wanting to fight for change in governance, which now is truly unjust. I view the challenge before me now as the biblical story of Job.

As my Family's Christian father, I have the responsibility to tell them they have made mistakes which can be called sins. When they confess their crimes and repent I will be happy for them.

[An aside] Today, in the News, the Pope Forgave his former Butler, in the Jail House.

Now, back to this evening. I was invited, to a precious small and quiet supper and coffee before the fireplace, here on College Street in Chesterville, Ontario. I was able to answer questions of my hosts, Monique and Roger; questions about my whole story of “Five Christmas Nights, away from Home” or “Resources to Rags – An Elder’s Earnings, Stolen by Fraud in an Unjust Civilization.”

On Christmas day, it will be 5, since my Sweetheart and Soul-mate was tempted away from me, by a woman known as Francyne. Somewhat like Eve, the first advertiser. Francyne, apparently thought, she is a Harry Potter hero, whose job it was to rescue my sweetheart wife, named Denise. Denise, hurting gave in to the temptation. I have become the villain in their opposing story of miss-information.

To give comfort to myself, over this lonely period of 5, I have kept in mind, the baby child who was born on Christmas Day. Like most all of us, I fall in love with Children; most especially with babies.

I think about my grandchildren; but also about the child in each of us. When we see the undamaged child in each of us, we see goodness. Undamaged children are curious but do no harm, they just learn what not to do, by making mistakes.

My hosts, sat listening to my story, with all their awareness functioning. For me as the story teller; I felt the grace of our creator, as their listening released the energy of compassion. I felt very happy to see them understanding what they found to be a compelling story. Were they compelled enough to act, only time will tell.

As an opening to the story, I told them, it was you, Victor Roth who, operating from San Francisco, found me this room, in their home to live in. It is almost two years, living with them. You my old friend did act unselfishly, to help me. For me it was a miracle.

From here, as a base camp, not home, I began to meet kind people. But for me, I am still in a State of Homelessness. Kind people really do help a suffering soul. They can help but not heal. Only justice can heal, but for me and too many others, 5 Christmas's will have passed with no justice. Our system of governance is overloaded and doesn’t work. It is unjust by definition.

You, Victor Roth, my very old friend, made finding me this base camp, possible. I found some relief from the torture I was experiencing from the unconscionable actions of my own family - "evicting me, from my very own home with only the clothes on my back." No reasons were given except the lie saying that I was a tenant who failed to pay the rent. It was someone's crazy idea, but it succeeded in working. I immediately reported my lawyer to the Bar for mis-representing me.

It was so unbelievable to me, I thought as did the police officers, that I would be back in my home in a few days following appropriate Court remedies. We had all lived in the property since 1969 and were very well known in the community.

Returning didn't happen. The Court was lead to believe the lie my family told.

I have become of Victim of Elder Abuse. I will be representing myself before the final Judge in the early new year. I will ask the Honourable Judge to turn this case over to the criminal Court. I have all the information to proceed. No police officer is needed,

The whole truth is, that I bought and fully paid for this home in 1969. Denise inherited her parents home and money and doesn't need mine. She could have all if she if she stayed in our marriage made in heaven. Heaven is only a question of mind.
A well planned crime was committed by my family. If you find it difficult to believe; find excellent explanations on You Tube.

From my Home to a State of Homelessness, my forced eviction took place July 31, 2009.

I have a medical document declaring that it was enough to make me suffer PTSD.

I am traumatized, by the criminal actions of Denise, Francyne, Steven, and Michael. All used the power of the Court to fraudulently steal my family home from me. They all appeared pleased by the success they had. To them they deserved it. They were all so charming as all psychopaths are. They were quick to sell the home. I now was seen as the evil one. The evil accusers succeeded. Steven told an RCMP Officer in Ottawa, that they had to sell the home. He will find it difficult to prove that statement now.

[As an aside] Having learned more about PTSD, I can now say with good information that it was a time of torture. It is time for all to know that I, Don Wesley [1933] am just one of the all too many in humanity who are victims of such evil, by psychopaths.

I had first become a PTSD victim as an abused child and then again as a young man of 19, injured when struck by a drunk driver. That was in 1952. I was lucky to have survived.

The symptoms of PTSD include having problems with social interactions. I withdrew from people, to the quiet of my own mind. My wife and children suffered as as result. We were all ignorant of the fact that I had a Victims problem, to overcome [nothing more] Dad, to them was just a too stern father. Denise, ignorant of the harm she was doing gave them all and more than they needed. She hid from me their criminal doings as children. I did eventually find out and was shocked by what they had done as children and continued to do as adults.

Fortunately the good times outweighed the bad. I worked hard creating intellectual know-how, which I sold to make a very good living. My family benefited as we lived within a very comfortable income.

I rebuilt business organizations to make them more successful for all the stakeholders. Many of the companies were very big. My sons did work for some of them. My success in this area led to more work than I could handle. When my work as the creator of new organizational design finished, I left each firm. Leaving was when my symptoms of temporary PTSD would return.

My military Psychoanalyst told me that Denise would kill me. I later learned she was a victim of her fathers abuse. She showed the symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder; self harm. So we were a dysfunction family. Denise and I didn’t argue, she most always agreed, but did what she wanted behind my back. I loved her I gave her all the money she needed.

[Back to my Story of “Six Christmas Eves, away from Home” ]

Like the Flag Pole Protestor of years past, I cried out to all who could listen;

“Wait until morning, to see if I would leave my pole top platform  alive."
It did grab their empathy listening.

Some provided a meal.  Finally a Gentleman named Herb Foxwell provided money for a shelter.

Some nights the temperature reached 23 degrees below freezing as I tried to find comfort in my car. I had no money nor friends to come to my aid. All my wealth was in my property; my Home Property. Incoming pension cheques took weeks to arrive. I did receive some help as you can see seen in other small stories, in this blog.
It was too often gasoline or food decisions. It is for me, Hell on Earth. It still is at times, when my PTSD moods shift into hurting memories. Luckily I have the knowledge of Psychological Mind Sight and prayer to recover to fond memories. Now I also have knowledge of early "Attachment Problems." I learned all this knowledge to understand why I was in this situation of man-made suffering. Was it all my fault? No it is not. I committed no crime and was a compassionate, aware and very caring husband and father. I was very worried about my sweetheart Denise. In the middle of 2000, I searched for but did not find the understanding in myself of what she needed. I was ignorant and suffering with her. She need much greater emotional support that I knew existed at the time.

I did get angry with myself; but no longer. I still love her and pray for a miracle to find us back together. I am in good health, and take no medications. Divorce does not solve family problems.

My earnings and savings were put into my property, which I had carefully planned, to be our home until the end of my life with my wife Denise, who, still in my heart is my sweetheart.

That property was also where my office, studio and tool shop were separately located. The was no need for them to fraudulently steal my home. Denise my wife, since 1964 had inherited her own property to live in.

The reason they did what they did, can only be called greed, or the need to kill me.

Don's Victim Statement - Elder Abuse Torture

A Killer Family

The financial loss is certainly over a million and more.
I started out very poor and amassed a little fortune and the Family Home.

So the story today, does not include a remedial solution; but I am told I will get my home back and that my sons, may have bought the home in 2009 and that would be fraud. There is hope however.

I have also turned over to the RCMP in Westmount, (Montreal) all information about the crimes I have identified that Denise, Francyne and my sons have committed. The Montreal Police have also been given the information.

My PTSD symptoms make me withdraw from social interaction, and my family mis-understanding is what I am suffering from. They withdrew and without knowledge, “psychologically abused me.”

To them, I was the evil one; their story continues to mislead too many. They felt the discomfort of “walking on egg-shells” as my wife said. Such abuse is a Crime, but is seldom prosecuted by our police agencies.

Why,  "Is what we are all beginning to talk about."
It is interesting to note, that today the CBC Television station News has covered the
New story with the tag name being - “ Idle No More.”

My dinner hosts quickly agreed with the following statement

“Our system of Governance has become Unjust.”

The question arising “Is it too late to save our civilization from regressing?”

Monique and Roger, are now are aware that my story is wider than, the narrower, focus of divorce.

Rather, it is a living story of

“Resources to Rags – An Elder’s Earning Escaping by Fraud in an Unjust Civilization.”

The Courts are unable to protect the Rights of all equally, “because processes are given priority over people.” Their is just too much complexity that has been added to living. It is chaotic.

I have also been able to hint an explanation of how psychopathic family members, can destroy a family and even murder a Parent.

We need, not just fixes, but revolutionary changes to our social organizations! These sudden opportunities to explain before an enlighten audience, are to me a miracle.

The subject of miracles today, by world renowned scholars is what I refer to here below:

       Denise, my wife and I met and gave birth to two miracles, Steven and Michael. Our parents gave birth to me and my wife Denise. Being miracles, we must live to be who we really are. The old question of To Be or not To be, is still valid.

The question is, will we or will we not be who we are created to be?

We all have parents and must therefore be miracles! We must get it right, I think.

For me this night, I acknowledge the miraculous people who now know my story.

I share this little story with the world on this my Blog.

I hope it will have more legs, than the fairy tale of “Harry Potter.” There are probably 7000 more stories like this tonight; will it be enough to go viral?

I confess that this little story wrote itself, using my fingers

Via the wiring of my body-brain-mind and directed by my mind of one The seeing Eye

It makes me happy to share.
Merry Christmas everyone:  from my House to Yours

Love and until soon,

Don Wesley 1933.