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Bearing Through It >> Share Your Story >> My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER

Message started by Story-mail on Dec 5th, 2008 at 1:01am

Title: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on Dec 5th, 2008 at 1:01am

I've been keeping an eye on this forum for a very long time now, long before I first made my account I read what people here said and now that I’m finally going to tell my story I believe a little introduction is in order.

I am in my early twenties, I am a young man living in Finland, and I was molested by my brother when I was young, when exactly is difficult to remember exactly. The exact date of when it happened has long since disappeared into the mist of my memory but what happened has been burned deep into my soul. I apologize for my rather impersonal nickname but I prefer to keep even the slight chance of someone finding about who I am to a minimum. I don’t want this to get out before I’m ready, when I can release it as I see fit.

My story will be rather long and at times rambling so I apologize for that before hand but since everyone who posts here regularly has proven themselves to be honorable and just people I’ll tell my story here first.

I remember walking out of the nurse’s office in the elementary school I was at and thinking about why I have so many headaches. I walked down a long empty corridor until I suddenly realized why I had so many headaches. Some time prior to that I believe I read something about how repressed memories can cause headaches in people, I was reading as many scientific magazines as I could get my hands on even when I was only 12 or so. I collapsed because I remembered what happened to me, all of it. To this date I’m not sure what happened or why I remember it precisely then and there, some things and possibilities race through my mind as I think about it, it could be that something the nurses said planted a false memory of it in my head, after all it was in the golden era of false memories the 90's when the nurses were seeing signs of abuse everywhere.

But today, more than a decade later I still remember it as vividly as if it was yesterday, I still remember how I felt, how it all felt, how I acted afterwards, everything that was said. Every detail is burned to my mind as if it was yesterday and I remember that the days, the weeks and months afterwards never felt the same as the times before. When I look back at how I felt, how being me felt like in the times before that it felt soft and as if I was safe, after that I do not believe I have felt safe for 15 years. The first time I felt safe after that was some time ago when my girlfriend was lying on my stomach.

IF you don’t like to read the whole incest in its gory then skip over this part:

You see, I always adored my big brother, many younger brothers are like that, they look up to their big brothers and hope to be like them some day, we went to the same school and he is 6 years older than I am. Sometimes I must have been annoying as many children are but his hatred for me went above and beyond what is normal. He had been in an awful daycare facility up until he was three, what happened precisely I do not know but I do know that it effected him for the rest of his life. That or he was born an asshole. Either way he was mostly mean to me throughout my childhood so one night when I’m lying in my bed and one of my parents (to this day I cant remember if it was my father or my mother there) was reading a bedtime story to me my brother appears in the hallway and looks at us. The story was being read as usual and after a while my brother asked if he could read the bed time story to me. I remember thinking how nice it was that he was finally being nice to me. So I looked at my parent and said it was alright, my parent handed the book to my brother and went downstairs. My brother sat down next to me and started reading. This is the part where it always gets hard for me to tell the story. He was sitting next to my bed on a chair reading the story, I was absolutely mesmerized by him, I wanted to take in every moment of this precious time, and he was being nice to me. I don’t remember exactly what he said to get into the bed under the sheets with me, I do remember it never felt natural, and I remember how uneasy I felt, how my senses were telling me that there was something wrong with this situation. After a while he stopped reading and took pulled down his pants and told me to grab his thingy. I was too young to have ever experienced sexuality at that point in my life so I did not know what was going on. I simply knew it felt wrong. I did as he asked and I remember how he told me to squeeze and do it faster, I remember how it felt in my hand, how it still feels in my hand, when I think of this I can still feel it in my hand, still feel its texture in my palm, still feel how its warmth pulses on the surface of my skin. I remember I did it until he had an orgasm as I have a faint memory of something on my hand. This much I remember for certain, then I’m not sure what happens. In one possibility one of my parents walks up and he hurriedly gets out of bed and says he just finished reading and I say what happened, he gets dragged downstairs and someone else finishes the bedtime story. OR he says he finished the story and I ask my mother to read me another one and nobody is the wiser about what happened. Either way I remember that after my mother finishes the story and I’m in bed my brother walks to the door and stands next to my bed, I remember I’m facing the wall pretending to be asleep but I’m still wide awake just wishing he would go away and this would all be in the past. He says talks about what happened, I still don’t remember what he said but as he leaves he says something that was burned to my conscience forever. He said, "Remember, this is your shame as much as it is mine."

You can start reading from this down

That in essence is my short story, but it was enough to absolutely devastate me when I realized it later on. For 15 years I carried it with me and I am now mere months away from revealing it to the world, I plan to write a small book about it, about my experience and coming to terms with it.

To this day I’m not sure if my parents know of this, which of these possible memories is the real one, which one really happened, did my parents know of what happened or are they still in the dark, when I tell them of this if I find out they've known of this I will disown them and start my new life and severe all but the closest bonds of friendship. I have already decided that I will never call my brother a brother again nor will he ever be my friend again, he would have to come before me on his knees and beg my forgiveness before I would even think of giving it, but he wont.

If my brother remembers this at all and still acts the way he acts then he is an animal which does not deserve to be called a human, he still tries to torment me as much as possible, he spreads lies about me and mocks my spiritual beliefs, going so far as to email my mother behind my back and telling how he is "tired of having to look after me". The hypocrisy of that man is beyond belief. IF he does not remember then he is an uncaring animal who can harm others and not even remember that he does it, either way he is a person so far beneath me that he doesn’t deserve the dirt on the bottom of my feet. I think I kept in touch with him for as long as I did hoping the vain hope that he would apologize to me now that we are adults, come clean and sob fully confess that what he did is wrong and it has haunted him since, he hasn’t and the email he sent to my mother was the last straw for me, I have not talked with him since and I have no plans to either, I save my time for the people that matter.

My parents are a different story however. My mother I told of my depression in a fit of anger, after she had badmouthed my girlfriend, even if ever so slightly and then laughed at me for trying to point out that it upset me that she said so. I blurted out in a fit of rage that she is an emotionless shell of a person and that I was depressed for nearly a decade and suicidal and the only reason I’m alive is thanks to the girl she badmouths and so forth, she turned around and walked away and never brought that conversation up again. I have never told her of this but as I said, I don’t know if my memory is accurate or not, if they do indeed know of this then I’m not certain on how to act, if I should cut contact with them or not. I gave them many years and many signs to simply ask me if I’m doing alright, simply to inquire as to how my life is, instead of pointing out my flaws and how "lazy" I am. I believe that the only reason I still live at home is because I hope beyond hope that they would notice something is deeply wrong and simply ask. I started looking for a job a month or so ago but it will take a while to even get one and then to move out. As I was studying at a university and not planning to move out or even live this long my life plans were not exactly easy to modify. I had a major fight with my parents a month or so ago at the same time I started looking for a job and I have not spoken with my mother since, we still live in the same house but I will not say a word to her that is not absolutely critical. I Get along with my father since he specifically asked to talk with me after we had the fight. He asked if the two of us could talk and sort out what is going on.

In my darkest moments after this some months I go I nearly committed suicide. I had my date, method, time and suicide notes done but at the last moment fate intervened. A woman whose life I saved ended up saving mine. We are now happily together and plan to get engaged sometime soon.

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Tracey on Dec 5th, 2008 at 2:31pm
Hi Story-mail,

I'm pleased I checked in here today as to of posted all those thoughts and emotions would require some support and acknowledgement.

BTI is a very safe and honest place, full of very supportive caring individuals, set up by a very caring individual for others to share experiences and support each other when required.

I hope you are now feeling relief after writing all your words down.  I am pleased you are here with us and have found support in another close to you.

What your brother did was wrong and the age difference between the two of you one which he would of been aware of his actions.

You come across as very grounded and focused on the future.  Be patient and be very kind to yourself.  You know now as an adult what was done to you was wrong and should never of happened and your brother will too.

I remember years ago when I first posted my story here and I had my first response what a shock and at the same time relief and sense of somebody finally understanding what I had gone through.  My wish is for you to feel supported by us all here and you are very welcome.


Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Ty on Dec 5th, 2008 at 9:50pm
Dear Story-Mail,

I am so glad to know you have come to the point where you feel safe enough to share here. I want you to know that I do my best to keep this site safe, and that having a safe place is a top priority for me.

Your courage shines through. I can't imagine the torment you felt growing up. I hope you truly know that what happened was not your responsibility or your blame. I hope you know that your sharing helps so many of us reminds us that we are not the ones to blame.
I admire the stand you have taken for yourself, and I am so happy to know that you have someone in your life who supports and loves you...and someone you feel safe with.

I do hope that you write a book. There are so many male survivors out there, but I think that they feel as if they can't share what they endured. Your courage helps them to know that it is okay to talk, it is okay to share, and it is okay to acknowledge and begin that healing process.

I am glad you are here, and I hope that you will find as much help and healing from us as we will find from you.



Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by ciaro on Dec 7th, 2008 at 3:54pm
welcome to bti.  I can only hope this site will be as safe and healing a place for you is it has been for me.
It took a lot of courage to share your story with us.  I can only imagine how exhausted you may have been having put your experiences on paper.  Your strength shine through your words. Remember, the shame is your brother, not yours.
Many of us come here to share our stories and our struggles as we heal.  If it is helpful, please feel free to share and seek support.
Good luck with the job hunting and getting your own place.  I hope it all falls into place quickly for you.


Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by revenna on Dec 8th, 2008 at 11:18am
Dear Story-mail,

Thank you for sharing your story with us.  I know it took great courage to write it all out for others to see, but you've come to a safe place to do that.  I hope you find the support you need with us.

I'm sorry your brother molested you.  My brother molested me, too.  I felt so confused by it all because we had always been best friends.  We no longer have a relationship.

I could relate to what you wrote about your brother being mean to you.  I have a sister like that.  She was never physically or sexually abusive to me, just mean.  It never made sense to me when I was growing up, but now I realize it was just part of the dysfunction of our family.  Since I was the younger sibling, she saw me as a safe place to dump her anger.  For a variety of reasons, the two of us no longer have a relationship today.

I am sorry for all you have experienced.  You seem determined to heal and find a way through all the pain and I commend you for that.  Please feel free to share again, if you want.


Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on Dec 8th, 2008 at 11:50am
I will write again soon but for now i must focus on life concerns. Thank you all for your kind words, i'll get back to you all soon.

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Mandi on Dec 8th, 2008 at 6:23pm
Welcome!!  I'm so glad you felt safe enough with us to share your story.  That was very brave!  It's not easy taking that step.  I can relate to your story a lot.  I'm sorry that your brother is such a horrible person who could do such a thing.  I will not have anything to do with my brother again ever.  I will probably have to see him at my mom's funeral.  But that will be the last time.  Unfortunately we can't pick our family members.  But we can choose as adults who we will decide to be around and call our family now.  I always felt like I was obligated to be a good sister to my brother ~ just because he was my brother.  My family.  Thank God my therapist helped me realize that I owe him nothing.  And more importantly, I don't have to be around him just to make my mom happy.  That saved me from a lot of pain.  I hope that you continue to heal.  It sounds like you have found a good support system in your fiance.  Congrats!  Hang in there and share whenever you feel like it.  We're here.  

Mandi :)

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on Dec 18th, 2008 at 3:13pm
In essence I have to accept that I will never be healthy, I can wish and wish but I will never be so. I can however get healthier. There will always be the occasional painful memory that creeps to the surface, there will always be the sensations in my body that I can’t get rid of. These are things I’ll live with, every day when I wake up they'll be there, every day when I go to bed they'll be there.

That I can live with these is a testament to my strength, that I have to live with these is a testament to the weakness of society to protect the once that need protection. There are so few men in this society that come forward with an experience like the one I have that I hope I can one day give men strength to live with something like this.

I remember being mocked for my behavior, the behavior that was caused by the pain in my heart. Being told I’m unfit, that I am not a good person, that I am perverted. It is true that I was unfit, bad and perverted since that is what I was made to be. I remember when I collapsed against a wall in the junior school for what felt like days, I just sat there and felt so wrong. There is no place I can hide from the shadow. I remember when I was young, maybe around 7 or 8 and I started wetting my bed, all caused by abuse. I remember dreaming I was in the toilet and taking a piss, only to wake up the harsh truth. As any child would I told my parents what happened, I remember how angry they were at me. They were angry and mystified why it was happening, why I was suddenly doing it when I had never done it earlier. I remember how I was filled with such intense anger when they were standing over me in the middle of the night talking about it. I remember how angry I was, how I felt I had no place to go if I wanted to feel anything but shame and abandonment. If I wanted a way out of this shame I would have to tell of another shame which would only bring me more shame, so I did what I could and I held it all in and in place, I simply stood there and got angry and never said why.

The signs were all over the place, I was barely in my teens and I was acting out sexually far beyond my years. Even when I was in the 3rd grade or so I was acting out and poking the girls with brooms and acting like the horny teen, I as 9-10 or so.

I remember lying on one couch while my mother was sitting on another and we were watching a movie called "The War Zone" a story of incest. I would recommend it to anyone here if watching it is not too emotionally disturbing. I remember I almost started crying at several scenes but from 10 years of hiding my emotions I could keep it in check. At one point my mother says "If someone did that to my children I’d tear out the perps eyes", I remember I turned to her and thought, "What if it is one child doing it to another".

My childhood leading up to the abuse is one filled with miracle and wonder. I remember when I was a young child people who met me described me as an unusually aware child, one teacher going so far as to describe me as "the man from outer space" then going on to write in my report card how its possible to talk with me about anything and how talking with me was surreal since I was so "aware". Those are exceptionally strong words in a society that strongly favors fitting in. I remember many spiritual events in my early childhood and many strange things that I have later confirmed with people who were present during these events and they all agree that they were quite unusual. I remember being 2-3 years old and playing next to my family on this small outlet/peninsula where small groups sometime go to eat lunch. I was sitting on the floor next to a table and I lift one of the floorboards up only to find a ground beehive, I promptly dropped the board and probably smashed the nest causing the bees to go all mad and sting everyone but me. I remember when my family runs away from the table and I sit there for 45 seconds or so. I remember that I look at the bees around me as they are in a circle a few feet away from me and non of them sting me, I look in amazement at these bees that are circling me but never getting close or stinging me. Then my mother runs back, grabs me in her arms and runs away, and during the short run back she was stung by 3 bees, in the whole over a minute that I was surrounded by bees not one ever stung me, all other members of my family were stung by a dozen or more bees in the less than 15 seconds they spent there.

I have many similar experiences in my youth that can only be described as bizarre beyond belief. I've run through deep deep bushes of stinging nettles which I’m allergic to in nothing but my bathing suit when I was a child and not receive a single sting, I’ve done things that should have either seriously harmed me or even outright killed me and not taken a scratch. I remember falling from a tree some 3-4 meters high, landing squarely on my back and not even having the wind knocked from my lungs.

I’m not sure why I’m telling this since it doesn’t really have to do with the abuse but I suppose it does have to do with me. I was a child not easily harmed and not easily surprised and since the abuse I have spent, in one form or another 15 years in almost perpetual darkness. But I wanted to show that while my parents failed to protect me when I needed their help the most and failed to see that something deeply wrong was going on I did have a happy enough childhood leading up to this.

I’m looking forward with both dread and anticipation on the day when I get to shed myself of this darkness that I carry. I've gotten so used to being the one who was abused but couldn’t tell that it has nearly become me but it isn’t me. Once I get the financial stability I need and finally move out I’ll be able to do what needs to be done next. The next step would be to write long letters to all the people  involved in this in one form or another. To tell them what happened, why I must do what I do in response and that I will no longer shield them from the responses to their actions, I hope this all works out for the best. At the same time I hope this all doesn’t work for the best since in a way I don’t want this to work for the best, I want to be abandoned and I want to leave this family. If this works and all is in the open I would have to face my parents as whom I really am for the first time in 15 years. I have lost so much of my life to this that I’m not sure if I can live the rest of my life alright. It is like coming out from a lifetime of torture and wondering if I have what it takes to live the last few days of my life well.

I suppose this is how Nelson Mandela felt.

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on Dec 27th, 2008 at 6:37pm
I remember when I was a child, I had this recurring nightmare, in fact more than one, but one of the recurring once was simple, there was a large hill ahead, I was walking up it and I was getting tired, my brother, mother and father were steps ahead of me and I looked at them and asked for their help  but they simply stood there, some times they didn’t turn back to face me other times they did but I remember they never came down and picked me up, they would always stand there and even on the times they looked back they simply said for me to pick up pace and start walking faster. I remember that many times I rolled down that hill and I woke up once I hit the bottom. I also had a recurring dream where I was in the shower with my father, I was perhaps 3-5 in this dream, I don’t know how old I was when I first had it but I had it well into my early teens. Sometime during the shower a man with dark torn clothes and the looks of a man who lives on the street comes out of the hole in the floor where the water goes (Cant remember the word for that).  My father fights with this man and I’m not sure if he wins or not, its been such a long time since I had it. Another recurring dream I have is one that always ends the same but starts in different ways, In early parts of the dream there is usually no specific thing I do but towards the end I start to fly or glide over the landscape and try as I might fly away my brother flies up and grabs me by the ankle. We all know where that particular metaphor, the ankle grabbing comes from.  I also have a recurring nightmare where there is a demon in our Sauna and he wants to devour me but I manage to negotiate it so that I offer him a stake from the fridge and he doesn’t eat me, I however have to keep this a secret from my parents in the dream.

All of these dreams, to me, paint a clear picture of a disturbed childhood. Luckily I don’t have these nightmares anymore, though occasionally if I go to bed before midnight I have the most horrible nightmares imaginable that make me stay up for well over 24 hours afterwards.  In many of the pictures of my childhood I show the signs of chronic sleep depravation, with bags under my eyes. When I look at a mirror now I sometimes wonder where the bags went off to.

I’ll write more when I feel up for it, I always appreciate the answers here and I will eventually use this long post to reveal my secret to my parents, this is, in a way, my hidden diary. So anything you say here might be eventually read by her. Even if it isn’t I will read it and I will appreciate the response, thanks.

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by ciaro on Jan 2nd, 2009 at 2:19pm
Hi Story-mail,
Having read your posts, my strongest feeling is sadness at the loss of your childhood because of your bothers abuse.  I am so sorry for that.  You deserved to be just you, safe and cared for.  It makes me angry that your mother could not hear you or be concerned for you when you told her of your depression.  That says more about her than you.
It is true that we can never change our pasts. Our abuse will always be a part of us.  We can however, change how it effects us and we do not have to live out of fear and darkness.  It is a long and painful journey to healing and it is possible to live inspite of our past abuse.  
It is hard to do alone though.  I am struck by your courage and know that you have the strength and will to heal.  And confronting our abusers and our families can be a helpful part of our healing.  I hope when the time comes, that this will bring you a release.  
I'm left wondering, have you been to counselling? You don't have to answer that question, by the way.  I have found having a therapist, experienced in working with people who have been abused, invaluable.  She is my anchor, my safe place, my safe person, with whom I can be just me, in all my pain.  Maybe, it is something for you to consider.  Healing, as you know is painful, and can leave us very fragile and vulnerable at times.  I would love to see you having someone who can support you and accept you for who you are now, a very courageous young man who has survived.
journeying with you


Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on Jan 7th, 2009 at 5:27pm
Thank you Ciaro, Sorry I haven’t responded earlier but I’ve been busy, my girlfriend proposed to me on a cruise some days back and its been keeping me busy. I did have the time to post but I felt unready to do so.

And no, I haven’t been to counseling in the professional sense, sometimes I’ve thought about it but getting therapy here is very difficult, time consuming and/or expensive.  We do have free healthcare officially but unofficially it is mostly a joke. In the city I live the waiting line to get your second appointment is 9-16 months, if you go to the private healthcare it is in excess of 200€ a visit. Needless to say that is unacceptable. My mother did offer to pay for it but the offer was made in such a tone without the needed support and talk that it was clear it wasn’t an offer in the real sense, more of an insult. I realize how helpful it would be if I had a good therapist, good medication and a good healing environment but it is something I do not have nor do I see anyway of getting those things. If I walk into a health center or a hospital the most they will do is give me a pack of SSRI or SNRI medication and send me off.  Some time ago a boy under 20 murdered a 16 year old girl in cold blood at a basketball field and handed himself to the authorities, when he was sentenced he said that now, finally, he can get some help. He had spent a good part of his life trying to get treatment for his depression only to be rebuffed at every turn. So no, I know I would benefit greatly from good counseling but in my situation it is impossible to procure. If I do take the option my mother offered I would have to strip away what little self respect I have left and go crawling back to the person who abandoned me the first time asking for help and as I have written here, that help will not be given with a smile and it would most likely simply worsen the situation as I would constantly be in a position of being labeled the “one who needs therapy” by the people who hurt me in the first place and they would be paying for the therapy. It is a situation that would take away the little liberty and choice over my own life I have and since that is the thing that has kept me from going completely nuts it is something I won’t do.

Right now the closest thing I have to a counselor are a few of my friends who’ve helped me through this for many years now and of course my girlfriend who proposed to me :). I had what can be described as a breakthrough after my girlfriend proposed to me. For the first time in a long while I felt genuinely afraid from the deep bottom of my heart. It was a charming sensation despite its deep seated terror. Charming because despite the terror I felt it was the first time in a long while I felt anything that deeply. I love her of course but that love hasn’t been a burning passion, nor has anything else for that matter. For a long while I’ve walked around like half asleep, even my skin feels like I only just woke up. I remember what it feels like when I just woke up because I remember my childhood so vividly, I remember that all the touches and sensations used to be much more vivid, much more alive. When I wake up in the morning the sensation stays the same as it did in my childhood for a few moments before it slowly starts to fade. It feels like my eyes tell me the world is a horrible place with no love in it and every speck of light on my retina drives me deeper into depression. Still, when I wake up I feel like I have the energy to do many things, I have no trouble with walking long distances and I still feel energetic, it is just that everything seems so dull. So, when she proposed to me I felt afraid to the very bottom of my feet and that was a truly charming sensation.

No matter what happens I don’t want to lose that I want to retain my emotions and be able to feel so alive. I’ve thought about telling my family about this, I’ve thought about how I should tell them and for the first time in a long while, maybe ever, I have a reason to tell. When it was just me I could have simply committed suicide and everyone would have been better off (besides me of course). Now that I have a girlfriend I love and a life I’m willing to stay alive for, even if only by a bit I have something that’s worth destroying this family over. Since if I tell it, is certain this family will fall apart, that will seriously worsen the situation my nephews will face. In the past I was holding this in to protect the lives of my nephews from the embarrassment and difficulty they would face when this is made public, now I will no longer do so since I have a fiancée to look after. I’m simply contemplating how I should tell it, where, and when. In a few weeks I will have to go to prison for refusing armed service. I will post here before I go but when I do go I’ll be gone for 3 months, I will try my best to keep my wits about me and not get into any trouble, I just hope this forum will be here when I get back. Right now I plan to write a letter and hand it to my mother the day I leave for prison and tell her to not open it until I’m in prison, where I explain what happened, why I’m angry and that I plan to move out when I am released. There are problems with that plan, mostly that I can’t secure the finances necessary to rent a house yet. I will think of something but it might ruin the plan and I’m afraid that if I don’t tell soon I’ll never get the chance since my father is fairly old and there is no way of knowing when he will die. This is the choice I now face. If I decide to tell when I go to prison I will have to do so within a month. If I plan to tell later I have to hope my father stays alive. All in all it is a very bad situation to be in, I will survive as I have before, I simply hope I wont “fall asleep” again.

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on Jan 12th, 2009 at 11:23pm
I'm not ready to forgive, not yet, but i'll get there. I'll get there I need to remeber this.

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by ciaro on Jan 14th, 2009 at 4:30pm
Perhaps it will help to remember to take things in baby steps, one step at a time.  I find when things are intense, just slowing down and taking baby steps helps me not to get overwhelmed.

Well, what a roller coaster of emotions!!!

Congratulations on your engagement.  That is wonderful news.  I wish you both all the best for the future.

And I'm really sorry to hear about the prison sentence for refusing armed service. Crazy!!  Be very, very gentle with yourself during this time and remember 'it will pass'.  Perhaps it can be time to be still and reflect.  I wish you luck with whatever decision you make about telling your family.

I will be thinking of you and sending you some healing light.


PS sorry its rushed and short.  I'm on my way to bed  :)

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on Jan 15th, 2009 at 10:24am
Well, a letter came for me, in it were the prison authority's instructions on when I need to arrive and where. Now I have a week and a half left in which to write my letter, I’ll write it eventually there’s no doubt of that, it might take a while and I might push it back to the last moment but this stops now. Hell or high water I’ll no longer carry this. It was never my fault, I was barely a child and I was hurt by my brother and blamed for by my parents. When I tell them I’ll give them a link to this forum post so anything anyone says here will be read by them. If there is anything you want to say feel free to and I’ll do my best to get them to read it.

So now I’m faced with a choice, do I forgive or do I want more time, my heart asks me to forgive but my stomach, my gut, is telling me I need more time, if I forgive now I’ll play down how much I suffered and I’ll not get into a balance, to forgive I must truly be ready for it and much as it hurts me to say it, I’m not ready. For possibly the first time in my life I'm ready to start processing how much I hurt.  This is going to be hellishly difficult but hopefully I’ll pull through.  The only way my parents will reach a balance and accept the failings of other people, their parents, friends and family members if they are shown how badly they failed and their own self is brought clear into view. The only way that can be done is if I show them how their failure has affected me. Maybe after that they will understand other people and their blindness better. One way or another everyone will have to face their demons.  The next 2 weeks will be the most difficult of my life and I hope I have the strength to pull through, they will be difficult not because of the prison, not because I would be forced into this but because I must choose. Because I must be able to maintain myself through all the disgust, all the hardships and still do this. It will be difficult, yet I want to do it. I will no longer carry this within me like some disease.

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on Feb 8th, 2009 at 2:26pm
My prison sentence starts tomorrow, it was nice talking here, thank you all for the help *waves* bye! :D

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Ty on Feb 10th, 2009 at 9:05am
I don't know what to say. I am very sad.

I am sure I am too late for you to get this, but in the chance that you do....

know that we are thinking of you, and holding you up, and we'll be waiting to hear from you as soon as you can get back to us.

:- :-[


Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on Apr 26th, 2009 at 8:24am
I am well and free at this time, i'll post more information when i get around to it, sorry to keep you all waiting :)

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Ty on Apr 26th, 2009 at 10:22am
I am glad to hear that you are doing well! It is always good to hear from you!


Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on May 9th, 2009 at 2:37pm
Okay, my stomach/heart is holding me back from posting here. I know when i do i have to face my own situations, my own fears my own soul again. I've been taking some time off from this side of my life to focus on other sides and now i've come back here to write down what im thinking.

Im not sure how long i can write now since im not in the proper state of mind, short overview.

Trying to get an appartment,
Studying to finish High-school
Studying to enter University
Living at home and despretaly trying to get an appartment (not easy in this city)
Living on welfare

Thats what im doing, this is how the situation developed regarding my past.

Before my prison started i left 3 letters on my bed, one for my father, one for my mother and one for my brother, each detailing the incident and how they "crappity smacked up". When i was in prison parents read their letters, my father didnt really understand it or take it seriously, still thinks im "just too sensitive" tho in this case i understand since he is already quite old and is, i think, starting to go senile. My mother agrees with this so his opinion im brushing aside as that of a man slowly losing his mind and i wont hold it against him.

My mother did confront my brother and he did admit it, when i was on the phone with my mother while i was in prison she repeated his words as being "I feel sick that (my name) felt so bad about it, i had no idea, we were just kids then" he is 6 years older than i am, best as i can telli was 6-7 so he was 13 or so (not a kid in this particular regard) followed by 10 years of intense emotional destruction and an inability by him to apologize for anything, ever. He visited my parents house twice while i was in prison and never picked up his letter. When i got out i waited 2 weeks for him to visit, he never did and as a result i disowned him. I said to everyone i know that i no longer consider him my brother in any regard and will not deal with him as such. As far as i am concerned i do not have a brother and i will not give him a chance to redeem himself in this life. I have spent too much time, too many hours hoping he would be a decent person towards me, to this day he thinks he is right about the world, how it is a dark abysmal place where people need to be "hard". He considers me naive and silly for my spiritual beliefs, he never looked at me as an equal and i said in my letter to him. I am stronger than him, i will always be stronger than him, something like this didnt break me and it never will.

Anyway i will eventually write more about how all of this is going but getting back to this now would make me feel all mopey at a situation when that jus tisnt possible. I feel i needed to let you all know of whats goin gon

Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Ty on Jun 20th, 2009 at 7:58pm

I am so glad to hear from you. It is interesting how replies span months :), but I am long as you are still here and that we can still 'converse' makes me happy.

It's now mid June and I am wondering how you are. It seemed in your last post that you had a lot on your mind...and on your heart.
I don't even have words to express how I wish your life could have been different...that you wouldn't have had to go through what you did. I am glad to hear that your brother 'admitted it'...but sad that he didn't understand the depth of pain he caused in your life. The ages were quite different...and I think it is all to 'easy' for people to explain it away that it was 'just kids' me, that is not 'just kids' me that is something that cuts deep no matter how old you are. You didn't have knowledge at that point in your life...and you did not have the 'understanding' that comes with adulthood. I believe, however, that he should have known better....and should never have violated you in such a horrific way.

On an up note...
I admire you for putting your feelings on paper for your family. The fact that your father doesn't get it...well, it is understandable (I guess) under the circumstances that you explained. The fact that your mother gets it is encouraging...and I am glad that she has supported you, at least in this.
The fact that you put it out there shows so much strength...and the fact that you are able to take whatever response you get from those you wrote to...and that you know you needed to write those for you...and not for anyone else...It just shows so much strength to me.

I also want you to know that I admire your decision to return to school and achieve the things that you have set your heart on. I know you can do anything...and I want you to know that we are behind you :)

I hope that we hear from you again soon...and that you receive this on a day that is shining magnificently on you!


Title: Re: My story, Such as it is. WILL TRIGGER
Post by Story-mail on May 15th, 2010 at 3:40am
Okay, so, you guys have a javascript popup that always keeps saying that "you are posting in all caps, not allowed" which i am not, only after some attempts at removing the javascript partially were i able to post this again, I havent been able to post for 6 months until now. Please, someone update the forum and possibly remove that bit, if at all possible. I can however just keep using my little patch. That being said i'll not post the extension of my story:

I've been trying to ignore this for a while now and focusing on other things that i can work on. Other things that i can improve myself on, such as the ability to study and hold a long term plan. I've been thinking about PTSD. I know that i have it. No surprise there considering how common it is for survivors.

I think I've been waiting for something to happen and clear all this so i wouldn't have to, like somehow my brother would apologize for the shit he did. Some solution that would eliminate the need for me to actually do this. Since the next stage is writing a book about this. I cant hold it back forever, its something i need to do so i can start to feel like a human being again. I am highly functional in that i can "act" human. But when I'm alone i feel like who i am really, at times i feel so bad.

Its more than just the abuse, its how my parents didn't notice that something happened. Its having spent 15+ years in such absolute darkness that it twists the mind.

Its a little difficult to explain, but when i look at the things around me or "feel" it just feels "off" like its slightly out of sync to how it should feel. I can reach back to how it was when i was a child before the abuse and i remember how it felt so different to how it feels now, its like there's a ball of bile in my soul that just cant vent.

Most of the time sexuality feels right to me, it feels healthy and the way it should. But there are times, even when I'm all alone or with my long time partner that sex just feels "wrong" the irony about this is that the sense that I've learned to associate as being "wrong" is when I'm not tense. When I'm not protecting, careful and tense it feels "wrong" since it is what sexuality normally is. When i really relax and let my emotions relax there's this feeling of being loved by my mother that just feels wrong. It feels like it shouldn't be there. Like i shouldn't associate sexuality with love and a connection of the heart.

This comes from the fact that my mother is the one that was supposed to protect me from harm when i was a child failed. And she had and still has serious problems connecting emotionally and groundedly to other adults. That's why I've learned unconsciously to expect that connecting heart and sexuality with one another is not a good thing. It makes me feel intensely vulnerable, it is like having a band of ice wrapped around my waist. I think that if it was just the sexual abuse i could eventually come to terms with it, but it is a larger childhood dysfunction. After all one abuse almost always reflects what is wrong with the family in general, and the amount of abuse in our society reflects whats wrong with our actions in general.

Right now tho, it seems that the situation isn't changing, I've waited a year or so and no miracle cure seems to come, everyone gets older and i lose some more time. That isn't the way. I think that writing the book and posting it online would help me balance the love and sexuality, I've planned to write it for a while now. I hope it would help me understand and come to terms with my emotions.

The sense of emptiness and coldness i get when i relax and calm down is the same emotion i got when i was a child, it took me a while to realise that it is but when i realised it i realised something else as well. I realised that its the same emotion but what has changed is me, not the emotion. Calming down and being alone is the same emotion, I've just learned to think that its a bad thing, that being alone is painful.

End result is that i always feel like in a fog, since I'm trying to run away from the sensation of being alone, which on its own is not a bad thing, I've simply too much pain associated with it. Its difficult to explain how it feels like to be afraid of being alone, not out of fear that someone else will harm me but from the fear of the pain that i have inside. Just how much it hurts to be in the moment and not dissociated in a cloud of fluff. How much it hurts to actually look at myself. The things i liked to do when i was 5-6 before the abuse are many of the things which hurt me so bad now. I liked the feeling i got from when i was "in the moment" i didn't use to mind people touching me, or pushing me, i liked to play, i was thin and in great shape.

But right now i don't like it when people touch me, i know its because i don't have the ability to defend myself, or so i "feel" even tho i can of course. Its not that i cant defend when someone punches me, its that i cant tell people who i am sort of on OK terms at least, that what they are doing is not OK. That's something i have a huge problem with and i know that writing the book will strengthen that, its like a big exercise in saying "i can say where my boundaries are". It is such a load of work tho, it wont be long maybe 20-30 pages but it still such an amount of work to write it while i feel like i am "in the moment" and describing things that happened to me not just things in general.

Okay, i need to rewrite this, i wont delete it like i normally do, I'll post it as well and just rewrite it so its both there.


Biggest problem with sexual abuse, especially childhood sexual abuse isn't the act itself, at least for me. The biggest problem is the distortion of emotions that follows it, how one learns to associate certain emotions that are healthy with harm and certain things that are harmful with health.

I know that the emotion i had as a child, before the sexual abuse, of being alone, is a healthy emotion, there is nothing wrong with being alone. But the normal, clear flow of emotions and the feeling of being alone and an individual is a healthy emotion. It's just as healthy as being in the company of others, the feeling of being liked is no better than the feeling of not being liked. But the abuse and how it twists a persons mind is remarkable, especially since it makes a person somehow so compliant. When you have to hid something you learn to watch how others feel, learn to do as they wish since people who are obeyed don't pay much notice to how the obeying party actually feels. Everyone assumes that if you are unhappy you say so, but what if you know that saying something will make others feel as unhappy as you feel and make no one happier, so you wont say anything. So when you don't complain, when you do what others want you to do then they will think everything is alright. If they expect you to be the angry boy who throws things around you will since that's what they want, if they expect you to be the good boy you will. It is like a form of mind control.

Sexual abuse does that, it makes you feel so unnatural when you aren't making sure everyone else is happy. When my girlfriend and I have sex or when i masturbate, from time to time it suddenly feels so wrong. The thing is it doesn't feel wrong because its sex, it feels wrong because I've learned to associate the normal sensation of being "who i am" with being wrong. Like its somehow such a bad thing. That's the thing with lying for 15 years and running around in the darkness that sexual abuse causes. When i think back to who i was as a child, before the sexual abuse i remember how life felt, it had a very precise feeling to it, that's the feeling i get when i start to feel wrong, its not a sense of sexual abuse, its a sense of actually being myself. That's what makes it so twisted. The feeling i get when i start to feel so bad is the feeling of what life felt like before the abuse, since that life ended when the abuse happened it feels like I'm falling into weakness. Like I'm falling into being vulnerability and lack of protection. Right now since I'm so detached from my life, i have such a sense of dissociation from who i am i am, in a way, safe. While everything feels slightly bad at all times nothing ever peaks so strongly, good or bad, that it would really harm me. Only when i start to fall from the dissociation do i start to feel so bad. No wonder its a defence mechanism for PTSD.

If i keep this dissociation going i will eventually die, of old age probably, without ever noticing what I'm doing with my life. I would probably accomplish the same amount as most people, slowly glide through life. But that i don't want to do, i don't want to run away from this life, the life i could use for so many beautiful and pleasurable things. This dissociation is a defence mechanism so it isn't the thing that's wrong or bad. IT is a way my mind made to keep me safe from the pain and the fear i cant really face. The pain of sitting on the couch and watching movies about sexual abuse and listening to my mother say that she would claws the eyes out of anyone who ever did that to their child and thinking to myself "yeah, what if it was one of the children to the other?". Well, when it really did happen and she really knows it happened now what did she do... nothing. She did nothing, like i knew she would, full of hot air. I know she is in dissociation herself, i don't know what happened to her, something pretty bad probably, but she is a hypocrite and so afraid of her own emotions. Only time I've seen my father cry was at his mothers burial some years ago, in his entire lifetime, I've never seen my mother or my brother cry. It is like sad emotions aren't a reality for them, like they are so afraid of being openly sad about something.

Right now, thanks to the abuse, i lack the ability to defend myself when someone acts nice towards me but means hostility. The like of action that my brother had towards me. The kind of covered hostility, it makes my psyche and emotional compass mess itself up. When i have to tell people, even those that aren't necessarily my friends, that what they are doing is harming me and it feels bad, and they are being mean towards me it feels so incredibly bad. It literally feels like my insides are covered in vomit and acid. It makes me feel so bad. Somehow i feel like I'm still afraid of people not liking me, when i was a child that never mattered to me, i didn't care if i was alone or liked by everyone. But after the abuse i started to pay more attention and do my best to be liked by people. So now i feel like saying to someone who is mean to me "go crappity smack yourself!" it makes me feel like I'm not supposed to say that, like I'm supposed to take all their abuse in good humour. It was never said to me in so many words. What my parents always thought with their words was that i have every right and in fact obligation to defend myself. But their actions, what they did, how they acted, what they saw, didn't see and so on, these things told me that its far more important to play along their rules or i wouldn't get what i wanted. Since i couldn't get what i needed, that was acceptance, reconciliation and assurance that i wasn't bad, i wanted other things. So thanks to they saying "defend yourself" and then emotionally whacking with me a sledgehammer when i tried to defend myself but reward me when i didn't, when i was the "nice kid" i cant defend myself against people in my adult life. I care too much for the opinion of people, I've learned to buzz them off verbally quite often but still i make mistakes. But even when i buzz them off or defend myself i feel like i did the wrong thing.

I've been thinking about this and the best option i can come up with on how to solve this is simply this. If i want to heal myself from this i should write a book and explain what happened. Explain how it effected me, how the abuse changed me, what its like walking around in the dark, the shame covering me, watching your every move, being the class clown since no one ever expects the clown to know important things, how every move is subconsciously geared towards keeping a secret. How my pain, misery, sadness and many other emotions were hidden so deep and so dense that even today they feel wrong. When being myself, remembering who I've been as a child, what it feels like to be a complete independent person makes me feel so bad. How i sometimes stop sex not because of the abuse but remembering who i was before it, how vulnerable i was and how i can never be that again, how i build so many shields around me that I'm like an emotional bubble-head. Thick but weak and easy to push around. To write a book about this, to release my sadness a bit out there would force me to accept that my brother will never apologize to me, at least not before i waste my life and probably not even then. And my mother, my mother always wants everything to be the way it was before, that we all get along, but she doesn't seem to understand that it was a lie, we only got along because i submitted, more or less, to destroy who i was for the sake of the family. I remember my brother from the first moments I've known him he was a sadist towards me. I remember him breaking my toys, bullying me when no one else was around, pushing me, hitting me, insulting me and so many things i can no longer remember. Like his life mission was to kill me, drive me to such depression that i would commit suicide. Going so far as to insinuate that i need him to protect me since I'm so soft and gullible, i never needed him to protect me, least of all i needed him to cause me more harm than anyone else has, ever. I need to write the book to make him know that i will never feel wrong for what he did that I'm telling the truth, his life will most likely unravel at the truth of my book. My mother might as well.

I wont lie in my book, i wont cover my mistake and i wont gloss over anyone else's either. I know i almost sexually abused one of my friends when i was about 13-14. He managed to wriggle out of the situation, I didn't understand what i was doing then, it ate away at me for nearly a decade but after i got out of prison (not related to this, has to do with the army) i sent him a long letter where i explained what happened to me, why i attempted what i did, and how sorry i am and that if he wants I'll write a public confession and take any punishment he sees fit to give me without complaint. We patched things up. At the time he was my best friend, and he is still a good friend of mine. So i know that its possible to say "I'm sorry for what i did" and even sexual abuse, attempted or committed can be patched up and it can be apologized to. But it cant be brushed under the carpet, no one else in my family seems able to apologize and truly face what they did, so i must defend myself, i must write the book if i want to clear space for me to feel like myself. Then, if he wants, he can apologize to me. I doubt he will. If i know him he will blame for ruining his life, he will be angry and do his best to paint me as the bad guy, possibly going so far as assaulting me. My mother is the question mark here, I'm not sure what she will do, most likely she will be quite sad and still attempt to reconcile us, and not accept that one was abused by the other and reconciliation would only help him and not me at this point, since he makes no effort to even contact me, apologize, nothing after a year. So the way i see it, he made his choice to hide it and not go public and try to make reprimands. My mother made hers and i just need to make mine and go fully public. Hopefully help myself and other sexual abuse victims and survivors.

so, yeah, I'll post things here a bit more often in the future.

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