Bahrain is not an easy place to visit in the summer. Desert covers most of the thirty islands that make up the country, and in August it's so hot, humid and miserable that temperatures regularly exceed 110 degrees Fahrenheit. But this remote nation does offer one attraction. It's the perfect place for a troubled man to put distance between himself and his problems. Which may explain why it was there, in the Persian Gulf, that Michael Jackson sought sanctuary after the trial.

  In August of 2005, Michael turned fourty-seven. He had his freedom. But, in truth, his problems were far from over. Rather than relish his new independence, Michael had sunk into a deep depression, often suffering from panic attacks and insomnia as if traumatized by the trial. He refused to speak about it. This was not the "victory" that his friends and fans had fought for. After the verdict, the pop star all but disappeared from public view. There were no post-trial parties, no triumphant press conferences. In truth, Michael was in no fit state to celebrate. He was too ill. A couple days after the verdict, he checked into a hospital in Santa Barbara to be treated for exhaustion and dehydration. Not long after he was released, he took off, leaving Neverland, never to return.

  "He went into total seclusion," a source close to the singer told me. "He was depressed, anxious, unable to eat or sleep. He almost lost it all: his freedom, his family, his career. You don't just bounce back after something like that. He told me, 'To this day, I wake up feeling upset and scared to death, and it takes me a half hour to remember that it's over.'"

  The only person Michael saw in the weeks after the trial – other than his children and their nanny, Grace Rwaramba – was a therapist. For the first time in his life, Jackson decided to seek counseling. It was definitely a step in the right direction. He knew he needed help, and maybe it was an indication of growth that he actually sought it instead of ignoring the signs. "He felt totally victimized by Gavin, the rest of the scheming Arvizos, and also by the Santa Barabara district attorney, Thomas Sneddon," one of Michael's inner circle told me. "He had a difficult time getting past the fury he feels about the whole situation. One day he told me, 'God forgive me, and don't tell Katherine I ever said this, but I hate that kid. I so hate that kid.' Then I remember he looked at me for a moment and he said, 'Part of me thinks, no, that's not right. You shouldn't hate. But then I think, I can't help it. I hate that kid for what he did to me. My therapist is telling me that I need to get real with myself and feel what I feel, not suppress it like I usually do. Well, how I feel is that I hate that kid. I do."

  As described to me, what Jackson had been experiencing sounded akin to post-traumatic stress syndrome. He had persistent nightmares about the trial, replaying his head the lurid evidence against him, the many witnesses, the pornography shown to the jury, the look of anguish on his mother's face. It was the worst thing that had ever happened to him, and it made him feel raw and, if at all possible, even more disconnected.