My story begins at the age of five when we moved into our house that I grew up in. It was in the summer of 1976 in the suburbs east of Atlanta. As I made friends with the local kids, we began experimenting with sex play as most kids do at that age. A neighbor had seen another little boy and me on the side of the house checking each other out and playing. The neighbor told my Mom. My Mom asked me what I was doing. Being a kid that didn’t lie very well, I told the truth and was slapped across the face.
My Mother was drinking at the time and when she wasn’t out with her friends at the local coffee shop and restaurant, my sister and were left alone at our house a lot. My Dad was working all of the time as a policeman for the county that we lived in, so I didn’t get to see him as much growing up as I would have liked.
To put things into perspective, at the age of about 7 I was asked occasionally to go fix my grandmother and Paw Paw (that’s what we called him) mixed drinks while we were visiting and at Christmas time. I was quite the little bartender, and trying to please I did what I was asked of. People at our family gatherings would be halfway inebriated and would fight, not so much in the open, but you could feel the tension at times.
My CSA began at 8 years old. I was outside at our neighborhood dirt track playing on a summer day and ended up at these two older boys house. One was about 15 years old; the other was 16 or 17 at the time. There was also another boy that was there, but he didn’t live there. He was probably 14. I don’t remember too much, however, while inside their house, downstairs in the den. The 15-yr. old thought it would be a good idea to go get his father’s gun and bring it downstairs. All I remember is the guy cocking the gun to my head. I was forced to perform oral sex on all three and then I was raped. I had no way to leave. I just remember looking outside the window, wishing I could get out. I was told by the boys that if I told anyone, that they would kill my faggot ass and then kill my family. I finally was allowed to leave. I ran across the dirt track and the field across the street from their house as fast as I could. I had to ditch my underwear in the field because I was bleeding. This is still a little vague at times, but I remember bits and pieces of it. I was so scared. I was late for dinner and my Mom got mad at me, because my Dad was home for dinner, which was rare at the time. I never said a word about it. These boys were not through with me. Physically they were, but I was called sissy and winked at by these boys on the school bus. They were a scary bunch of creeps. Meanwhile, at home my drunken mother was chasing my sister around the house with a belt. I hid in the closet to avoid her.
I remember at the age of 9, I began to cry inconsolably on Mother’s Day because I felt like the gift I had given my mother wasn’t good enough. Looking back, it was probably the CSA and the worthlessness I felt and the shame I felt.
My parents divorce was final (as I would later learn) exactly to the day on my 10th birthday. When I was 10, I got hold of my Dad’s camera and took a picture of myself without a shirt. It was sexually provocative. My Dad asked jokingly why I took a porn star picture of myself. I had no explanation at the time. I still never told anyone.
My father gained custody of my sister and I (Rare in the U.S) and my sister became a surrogate mother, essentially raising me when she was only 14 and I was 10. Dad was always at work, so we did the best we could.
At age 13, I lost my virginity with a 19-yr. old woman. I thought it was cool at the time, but I know better now. I also began to use drugs (pot and alcohol) and began acting very angry all of the time. Eight days before I was 14 years old I was tricked into inpatient drug and alcohol treatment for 90 days. It helped a lot, but I still never told anyone about the CSA. I went to out- patient treatment after that for 9 months.
At age 17, I began drinking again but managed to finish high school with decent grades. When I was 19 I was charged with a minor possessing alcohol decided to join the Army and jump out of perfectly good airplanes. I didn’t give a crap. I finally found something I enjoyed and was good at. After 2 ½ years and a lot of numbing myself through alcohol, I got out. My unit didn’t even say goodbye. Another betrayal. I came close to putting a bullet in my head when I was 24. I knew I was gay, but later found out that it had nothing to do with the CSA.
I joined the National Guard after that and partied my way through my 20’s. It finally caught up with me when I was 28, when I got a DUI. I also found my spirituality at 29, which has kept me alive inside. At age 30 I was arrested for disorderly conduct (alcohol involved). During my 20’s I spent about 7 years in and out of the therapist’s chair, never dealing with what haunted me. I had felt so ashamed for so long, it became second nature to hide it. Slowly, but surely, I began to cut way back on the booze, but that opens up the feelings as well. I am now 35 and wanted to share my story. Can’t give all the details, otherwise it would be a novel. Thanks to all of you for being there for me.

Thanx for sharing. You have become a real good friend.

WOW, never quit is right, you should be very proud.

Can I ask one question, I have a few, but I'll start with one!



What is your spirituality? This is one the issues I battled, I feel comfortable now saying that I am Unitarian, because I could find and feel comfortable in other congregation.

dean -

good for you for persisting -

i wrote something that was off topic

you did great here.

well done.

i mean you've triumphed in self acceptance -

it took me a long time - well done -

the rape,gun,drugs,miliary,self destuction and the experience with a 19y girl all sound familar

Julian

Dean,
Thank you for sharing your story. I am honored.

You are right.. NEVER QUIT! or they win....

Hi Dean,

I know it was hard writing that out. Throughout the post, though, I see your survivor spirit. Again and again. What a great kid got you through all that.

I can feel some of your pain with you.

Those boys should be rounded up and flogged repeatedly while you get to shout in their faces how worthless they are, and then throw them in jail.

Sorry, that brought out a bit of anger in me.

Thank you for your brave post, Dean. You're an inspiration to me. I hope posting helped somehow.

andy