I was sexually abused as a child by men and women in my community. My parents were alcoholics and didn't want to know or care what was going on. As a result I am asexual. I do not desire intimacy with others and am unable to achieve an erection or orgasm.
When people touch me intimately I experience paranoia and anger. This leads to depression, lack of self-worth and suicidal ideation. I have been known to put myself and others in danger due to my destructive tendencies.
This has created a great deal of struggle. I want to be normal but when I attempt to engage in intimate acts with others it creates a state of extreme rage. In the past I have used drugs and alcohol to numb myself out.
I went into therapy for many years. I was diagnosed as bipolar, depressed, and suffering from impulse disorder. I took medication and was admitted to the hospital 3 times. When I lost my job and my insurance ran out, I was forced to discontinue treatment.
During the past 6 years I have made a lot of progress. I gave up the substance abuse and I stopped trying to pretend I could be intimate with others. I accepted myself for who I am. It was OK for me to be an average person with few friends.
Age 5 - Darla, Woody and their Mother and Father
Darla lived in a small run down house just a couple doors down from where I lived. We played in the playground near the school and became friends one summer. I learned how to go "garbage picking" from Darla, and we would check out what people were throwing out.
One day she found what she called "private pictures", which were pornography. She told me her parents had lots of them and asked me if I wanted to see them too. Being a very curious kid I said yes.
We went to her house and she showed me some of the pictures, and also showed me her genitals. She played with my genitals too, and joked about a birthmark I have, calling it my "turtle".
There was a peephole in the room where we played, and I suspect one of her parents were watching us that first day. But it didn't really matter because many other things happened that summer.
The next day we watched her parents through the peephole having sex. It was just like the "private pictures" she had showed me. Eventually we joined them in their bedroom.
It's difficult to remember all the things we did, but I know that I put my hand into her mother's cunt and licked her father's dick. I also remember lots of tissues being used to clean up the mess on my body.
I don't think I was sodomized during this time, but I do think some attention was given to my asshole, maybe some rimming or something. I remember pissing into a glass instead of the toilet, which I thought was a little strange.
Darla's brother Woody did not join us, and I suspect his parents did not allow him to. Woody was a very violent boy, probably because of all the abuse he suffered from his parents. Darla and I were the cute little angels.
Woody had a penchant for removing his belt and whipping the backsides of boys in the neighborhood. I would help him find new victims by luring them toward us so they would think they were safe.
Woody would sometimes make me play with his penis, but he was not very interested in that. He was much more interested in touching little girls. He hated boys and wanted girls.
My relations with this family went on for most of the summer. I knew it was wrong but I was a curious little kid and didn't know any better. I was told to never tell anyone about what was going on or I would be hurt.
I felt suffocated and dirty doing the things I did there. The house was not very clean and I felt taken advantage of. I just wanted to get out of there and play outside.
Age 6 - David and my Brother's Friends
My older brother Jeff was very abusive to me. I had taken all the attention away from him and he resented that. He would beat me up and make me cry every chance he got. I remember being woken up to him hurting me very often.
He did not sexually abuse me, but he had some friends that did. My brother was 7 years older than me, and he had friends that were 14 and 15 years old. I would be forced to play with their dicks if I wanted to avoid being hurt physically.
These were the experiences that have had a lasting impression on me, because they were so violent and I was so hurt, both physically and psychologically. I just wanted my older brother to like me, and would do anything for him.
One of his friends was named David, and he had a model train setup in the basement, with lots of tracks and switches and model houses. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen and I just wanted to play there all the time.
David was very abusive with me, and would lock me in the basement bathroom with him so he could have his way with me. He was a spoiled brat and needed to feel powerful. He told me if I wanted to play with the trains then this is what I would have to do.
One day he put his finger up my ass and it hurt a lot. I tried to get away. I got out of the bathroom and ran around the train table but David came out at me and got me back into the bathroom.
He sodomized me after that, and then told me he would kill me if I told anyone what had happened. To show me he was serious, he took out a knife and cut my hand, drawing blood. I left there crying and went right to my parents. He told them I had cut myself trying to sharpen pencils.
I went back to David's later in the year for an outdoor picnic with my family, and he took me down to that same bathroom and abused me again. Now as an adult, whenever I see a model train set, I start to feel nauseated and anxious.
These experiences were the most horrible things that ever happened to me. They made me feel very hurt and lonely. I remember going outside to play and hiding all day to avoid being hurt by my brother or his friends.
It was very difficult telling these experiences to a therapist, because I was threatened with death if I ever told anyone. As an adult it may seem silly, but as a 6 year old it's a very scary thing.
Age 7 - Uncle Munk and the Boardwalk
My father had a cousin that sold balloons on the boardwalk. He dressed up as a clown. If there was ever a classic child molester, he was it.
We would spend the summer at a resort on the Jersey shore that had a boardwalk, and Uncle Munk was always at the same place, selling balloons and giving out candy.
Sometimes, Uncle Munk would not be in his clown outfit, but he would still have candy to give away. He would take me to an area under the boardwalk to give me candy and have me play with his dick.
There were other guys that would show up while we were down there and I would be forced to gratify them. As always, there was the threat of being hurt if I told anyone.
Later that summer, Uncle Munk shot himself in the head. He could not live with the monster he carried around with himself. I can only suspect he was abused in some way as a child also.
I would still wander back to the area under the boardwalk and sometimes do things with men. I felt like I had some power for the first time in my life.
I remember being caught by someone and running away. Not only was I ashamed, but I realized that someone now knew the secret I was supposed to keep, and now my life was in danger.
Age 8 - Greg and his Dad
My family had moved to a new town, and I was slowly making friends. I still had a difficult time playing with other kids but I met some I could relate to.
It's interesting to think that many of the people I've made friends with over the past 40 years have been survivors of sexual abuse. There is a common bond that exists between us that just isn't there with other people.
This is not to say that the relationships we've had have been productive and healthy. In fact, most of them have been outlets for the type of dysfunctional behavior that sexual abuse creates.
Anyway, Greg's Dad didn't work and was an alcoholic. We would go to Greg's house and his Dad would be in the kitchen. He would make chocolate milk for us that he would add booze to.
As little kids, we would get pretty messed up and think it was all pretty funny. Greg's Dad would get very affectionate with us, and the first time it happened we went into the TV room and fooled around.
It was nice being with an adult that wasn't violent, and the alcohol made me feel good. We fooled around again a couple times during the summer, and the last time it happened I left before we got intimate.
That was the last time I did anything until I turned 16. I enjoyed the alcohol buzz. Little did I know how much that alcohol buzz would govern my later life.
Age 49 - New Work
One year ago, I started attending a church that practices what is known as New Thought. In an attempt to improve my sense of faith, I began using some of the tools for life improvement such as affirmative prayer and meditation.
I met a woman at the church known as a "practitioner". She had received several years of education and was licensed to perform prayer treatments to help others. She forced herself on me and would not leave me alone.
Right from the start, I told her that I did not want to be intimate with her. I informed her of my sexual abuse history and told her that being touched caused me extreme emotional problems including uncontrollable anger and rage.
I now realize that this woman was very manipulative. Every time I told her to get her hands off me she acted hurt and rejected. Instead of accepting my limitations she threatened to end our friendship.
One week ago, she assaulted me at her home. I had told her earlier in the evening that I did not want to be intimate with her. She ignored me and engaged in acts that triggered very bad memories for me. I did not get aroused and hated every minute of it.
I have entered a state of depression, lack of self-worth and suicidal ideation that will not cease. I am having horrible nightmares every night about my past abuse. This is after five years of feeling pretty good about myself.
What's worse is that this woman will not leave me alone. She tried to corner me in church on Sunday, she writes email to me every other day and she calls on the phone. Each time she does this it makes me more unstable.
She has become every person that ever assaulted me. I hate her more than anyone else in the world and I want the police to arrest her. How could she possibly do something like this to someone that constantly asked her to stop?
So, I've been working to make myself whole again. Even though this woman is trying to reach out to help me, she doesn't realize that I see her as an extreme threat.
I've been taking good care of myself, doing things that I know are life affirming. I'm avoiding alcohol and drugs. I know that I will make it!
Last night I dreamed I was in a house where I could play with trains and toys. The walls were white and I would have fun until she showed up. She would shut the windows and draw the blinds to make it dark. She made demands and messed things up, but when she went away I could play again.
One night she was in the shower for a long time and I was especially happy that she was away. Then she told me we were going somewhere and she took me to the home of David, the man who sodomized me when I was 7 years old.
I cried and begged with her not to leave me there. I remember her letting go of my hand as I was pulled away and dragged down the stairs. There were other children in the house, and we cried together listening to the screams in the next room.
Then she came back and went out to dinner with David. We were locked in the house, hungry and hurt. I remember looking out into the darkness of the night, watching the lights of the city and feeling very lost, not knowing where I was.