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#333401 - 06/09/10 10:04 PM Recovered Memories, revised edition**Triggers***
catfish86 Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 10/27/09
Posts: 826
Loc: Ohio
I initially posted my history as I knew it at the time when I first started dealing with my memories and this site. I am rewriting and reposting with what I now know. Some of it was new/suppressed info, other stuff resulted from research and putting timelines together. I am posting this in the spirituality section since included in my story is my salvation since it is integral with my story.

I have always, at some level, known something had happened. I became a social work major in college and as a side devoured information on sexual abuse. It was pretty clear that something had happened by the symptoms that showed. But the only things I could remember came at the wrong time and were no where near enough to produce the symptoms (many of which I successfully hid). I was even in counseling which we attempted but failed to find the incidents. The counselor agreed something had to have happened. The only success was during a mental "elevator" exercise that produced a very hurting little boy. Thankfully, I had found Jesus as a friend and I received His love in that exercise. It was incredibly healing but we could never find out where that little boy was or what happened to him.

A little bit of(OK a lot) background: My mother married a reformed alcoholic and had a son, CS. When CS was about three, my mother was 8-9 months pregnant with a second son (KS). She was visiting friends when she realized that CS was not in the room. They found him in the neighbors pool, drowned. My father blamed her mercilessly, began drinking and being an abusive ass towards her. In attempting to save the marriage, a year after my brother was born, I was conceived. They separated and before the divorce my Dad showed up at the house. At one time, I would often say I never met my father and had no memory. I then found out that I had actually been taken over there every other weekend until I was four. But I didn’t remember that. Once informed of that, I knew I had another round of memories suppressed. The suspense soon ended when some dark memories that I thought was a boyfriend turned out to be my father. My father had molested my uncle (mom’s youngest brother) and aunt (youngest sister) in addition to my half-sister when she was four. I remembered being fondled often in my bed and it was before the age of four. My father broke into our house and the cops were called. On another occasion, he was beating my mom and she called her brother who promptly asked to speak to my dad. My uncle said he was coming down and if my dad was there he would kill him. My father moved back to his home in the Appalachian mountains in another state.

Ironically, although my father’s molestation stopped, I also lost my sex partner, I tried to recruit friends at the daycare. I managed to get molested by a janitor. I also tried to get a kid from the catholic school upstairs to strip with me in the bathroom. I was then busted naked in the hallway and then get thrown out of daycare. I was put in a new one that I was also thrown out of. Then no daycare would take me. At that point, a radio and later TV preacher whose church was across the street heard about my plight and offered to take me into his daycare and pay special attention to me. He did, alone, in his office, with a camera. I was told to be so thankful they had taken me in. I stopped trying to find a sex partner my own age since I had found one. I didn’t know any better than to enjoy it. Everybody said he was such a nice man and he was nice to me. I was also entered for a half day into the Cerebal Palsy Center because I was delayed in speech, bedwetting and showing behavior problems. I was diagnosed Hyperactive (now ADHD) and brain damaged from being a blue baby (umbilical cord wrapped around my neck). Then I entered a catholic school. I passed academically, barely. The adults judged me not mature enough to enter second grade. I repeated first which gave me the status of retard. I was successfully sexual when playing with a friend at his house during a visit. I finally entered second grade in September 1975.
My dad died about in November 1975, we attended the funeral and its the only memory I personally had of my father that I realized was him. Less than a month later, I started trying to find sex partners, cutting my clothes and myself, writing on myself, my clothes and my desk. During a reading circle, I got a boner so I pulled it out and showed it to a friend, whose neighbor asked what was so funny. I ended up showing the whole circle. The teacher noticed. I had some other incidents including something dealing with older boys in the bathroom. I went to the principle’s office and cussed out the principle, a nun. I was expelled on December 16, 1975. They put me in class until they could evaluate me at the public school a block away. Given my history, they were trying to figure out how low my IQ was so they could put me in appropriate slow classes. I remember the IQ test, they started out dumb because they didn’t expect much. I aced everything. I continued to ace everything and over an hour later the tester decided we could take a break. I went and got a drink of water, returning in time to hear them talking about me in the room. The tester said, you guys are thinking slow classes, this kid is actually highly intelligent, you need to put him in the advanced classes. I was given the choice and decided to just take the opportunity to be normal. Its all I wanted.

In the summer of 1976, my father’s brother called and invited us to visit for the summer. We went and I remember coming back with my mother carrying a suitcase, leaving most of our meager possessions across a farm field, hiding at a distant cousin’s house and going to the bus station. I remember a tall man with a cowboy hat walking in, sitting down and asking my mother, “Are you BS?” My mother replies, “What’s it to you”. He replies that he’s the sheriff and my uncle had called and said you were missing. He then said if she didn’t mind he would stick around and make sure we made it onto the bus safely. Neither of them said anything else but he talked to the bus driver. That bus driver drove us over an hour from his last stop to our house in his own car.


I still showed difficulty concentrating. I was daydreaming A LOT. I had a recurring nightmare of someone coming into the school to get me. I had an overwhelming desire to have something heavy on top of me in bed. I had trouble making and keeping friends. I fell in love with reading because I could imagine being someone and somewhere else. I was diagnosed with ADD and put on Ritalin and I was given counseling and though nothing came out I was often asked if someone had touched me etc. I still take medicine for it as an adult. I now know that was NOT accurate. I was dissociating, not daydreaming. My dreams were nightmares from my abuse. My bedwetting is common among sexually abused children. My aggression, fits and fighting were symptoms of a depressed child. My sexualized play was caused by my exposure to sex at way too early an age. I didn’t understand what I was asking for. The reason I couldn’t make friends was because of trust issues.

My brother and I grew up in housing projects and were bounced around because of closing Catholic schools, eventually graduating from public high school. At one school in 7th & 8th, I became the pariah, gaining the nickname catfish because of the odor. I refused to take baths and my sweat caused my clothes to stink. We both became drinkers and did various drugs but mostly stuck to marijuana. At one point my brother started fondling me and started to BF me but it hurt so bad when he got it in that I made him stop. I then acted out in school and nearly got expelled again (I gave my science teacher the finger. A very skilled counselor got out of me what had happened but nothing was really done.

By the time I got to high school, I was lonely, drinking, unable to really connect with others and in a lot of pain that I could never understand. A friend talked me into attending a Bible study before school where someone would read a>


Edited by catfish86 (06/09/10 10:11 PM)
_________________________
God grant me
The Serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The Courage to change the things I can,
And the Wisdom to know the difference.

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#333402 - 06/09/10 11:17 PM Re: Recovered Memories, revised edition**Triggers*** [Re: catfish86]
petercorbett Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 07/27/08
Posts: 2452
Loc: TEXAS
Hi, my fraternal brother.

Great courage in posting that update.

Like you said at the end of your post,this stuff truly sucks.

Heal well, my brother catfish86, heal well.

"I will take that lost boys hand, and i will lead him from the depths of darkness, into the sunshine, forever into eternity."

Pete..Irishmoose.

_________________________
Working Boys' Home 10-14 yrs old, grades 5-8. 1949-1953
____________________________________________________________
A very humble alumni of the WOR Dahlonega, GA.
May 15-17 2009, Alta, Sep. 2009. Sequoia, 2010.
Hope Springs, 2010.


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#333405 - 06/10/10 12:59 AM Re: Recovered Memories, revised edition**Triggers*** [Re: petercorbett]
catfish86 Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 10/27/09
Posts: 826
Loc: Ohio
A little bit more about what happened in the kidnapping. One of the most disturbing and hard to understand things was that very quickly, I started actively trying to pleasure my uncle and even climaxed when he fucked me. I even put myself in a position to be abused by him. He almost killed me twice (once strangling me to stop my screams, the second time by forcibly deepthroating me). He played Russian roulette with my brother and had me do the same with another boy he abused. Basically he put a bullet in a revolver and put it to the head and pulled the trigger if there was a scream. When he made me do it, the kid screamed and the gun went off but incredibly, I missed. My uncle then made me give the kid a blowjob which I thoroughly enjoyed and literally brought him out of a catatonic fog during the act, eliciting a smile. My uncle then gave me a blowjob. My mother then got the opportunity to escape with us that afternoon and I tried to resist the escape. I wanted to be there. My brother, however, while acknowledging his inability to resist, did nothing more than lay there and take it without screaming. He spent much of the time telling me I was a “little faggot” because “I enjoyed it”. My uncle also did a number of things including killing animals in front of me, especially if I had bonded or expressed a liking for them. I really wish he was alive so I could shoot him in each kneecap and elbow then piss in his wounds. As it stands, I plan a trip in the future to shit on his grave. While I am in the neighborhood, I shall also take the opportunity to shit on my dad’s grave.

While part of me sings, "Amazing Grace, My Chains Are Gone" and "You Were On The Cross", another part sings, "Hate My Life".

_________________________
God grant me
The Serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The Courage to change the things I can,
And the Wisdom to know the difference.

Top
#333411 - 06/10/10 07:42 AM Re: Recovered Memories, revised edition**Triggers*** [Re: catfish86]
earlybird Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 02/17/10
Posts: 1007
Loc: WA USA
Sorry Catfish,

Most likely nearly all of us understand the dual songs you sing. Our songs may vary but our rhythms are very similar.

P.S. when you were expressing the desire to shoot him in all his limbs you forgot one very important spot. It's near the bulls eye. Hope you’re a good shot. (Speaking virtually of course)

_________________________
Balanced (My goal)

There is symmetry
In self-reflection
Life exemplified
Grace personified

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