I'm not me and this is why
From at least the age of 10-13 I was molested by a group of older teenage boys, but even before then a neighbor girl and I think a babysitter molested me or sexualized me. I was a sexual creature before I started school. I was beaten black and blue before then and when I did start kindergarten I found out my last name wasn't my last name, I wasn't me anymore, I haven't been me since I was 5.
I am now 38, and I don't know how to unlock the damn door to the walls I built. So now I am looking for sledge hammer, I will heal I am tired of pain, tired of emotional cowardice, tired of not being me...
I am a great pretender able to be ALL THINGS TO ALL PEOPLE from a distance. But family doesn't keep a distance and so my walls kept them out, or kept me out. Now I can't go home and my wife is in the arms of another.
This is my story from the abuse to the day I found out I couldn't go home. It deals with sexual side effects, physical abuse, mental and emotional abuse, drugs, self harm, mental illness love and rejection... it may trigger so be warned.
I entered my teen aged years already sexual aware and sexually hungry. I had the double curse of being an early bloomer and being abused. The neighborhood boys who had been molesting me were mostly gone now. But home was still the hell that drove me to them in the first place. My step father Monty was a giant of a man and he was so mean, at least to me. He seemed to be great with his biological kids, just horrible as a step dad. To this day men much larger than me set off my anxiety.
I cut, I burned, I pursued oblivion in a mad rush- school simply didn't matter. I fought with everyone, or simply gave into them anything to be safe or to belong. I saw no tomorrow, in the 6th grade a DARE officer said by 18 x number of us would be dead and the auditorium all turned and looked at me and my friends. I saw NO tomorrows.
After Monty would come Milt, Mark, Garry.... and there were men before him to. My mom kept marrying and marrying and marrying. I didn't know she was a CSA victim then and that she was running. All I knew is that I didn't have a dad and it didn't seem like my mom wanted me. My small size and poverty locked me out of the in-crowd in school and my own inner discussion didn't make me very personable either.
My inner world is now so full of trash, nick-naks, and junk mail there isn't room for me let alone another. But it kept me safe or so I thought. My brother went the opposite way, if MMA had existed in large enough form when he was in his 20's he'd have a heavyweight championship. He won't be bullied or abused again. Although that side of him didn't come out till I was in the army, when I left my rage wasn't there to protect him anymore. His size is also why we are estranged, bro if your here- if you read this I'm sorry- I was scared when you turned into a giant. I remember when we parted ways, our last [physical] fight. I bloodied your nose at the apartments in Everett- then you started growing and would be a victim to my rage anymore.
It is no surprise that I was getting high by the 5th grade. I started with magic mushrooms and never got any lighter. downers were never my thing, I was down enough, I wanted out. In high school when other kids drank beer on Fridays, I dropped acid. I don't know if hallucinogens or splitting came first, or what impact they have on each other. But I've split since an early age. In highly emotionally stressing situations where I can't split I freak.
I didn't have relationships when I was younger, just sex. I can't get close to anyone. If I have sex 9/10 times I am not there, my spirit is somewhere else. I know now this is called splitting. I also had strong urges for cock, not guys but cock. It was shameful, wanting cock meant I was gay, but in the 80's a gay teen was a death sentence. Besides I liked girls.
I joined the army at 17, my mom was more than happy to sign the papers. The army gave me some structure and let some talents I didn't know I had come through. Turns out in situations of extreme danger but danger with a mission I split the same as sex and go cold. Combat arms lead to bail enforcement/executive protection, fire fighting, mountain winter truck driving, and urban search and rescue. But I am getting ahead of myself.
The army lasted 5.5 years until I met a girl who wanted out of daddy's house and I wanted out of the barracks. She too is a CSA and suffered at the hands of a step father. We had two kids together but I was not able to be a husband or father and she left me. It hurt a little, but I didn't love her.
On the other hand, losing my kids seeing them head into the maw of step parenting terrified me. I left my home-state and moved halfway across the country to be close to them.
Sadly, I only brought the clothes on my back and my drug addiction. Drugs: I had become an addict by accident and it kept me from being a man. I ended up giving my daughter up for adoption. Her dad- Bill is a good man. He is a racist opinionated Arkansas redneck, but he is family centered and self sacrificing.... He has been her dad since she was 3 months old. I gave her up out of love to a man who loves her. She actually considers me something of an uncle lol, hope she never really looks to close at me....
My boy remembered me and so we have fought to keep our bond alive as hard as it has been. He is about ready to start driving now. But drugs strained that relationship as well. But he knows I am his dad. I recently got to do the most loving thing for him. I found out he was experimenting with his longest friend. I got to confront him and let him know it didn't matter. That all that mattered so long as it wasn't illegal or dangerous, was that he was my son ad I love him. I also got to tell him that he is not gay, bi, or straight at his age. He can make that choice for himself later. No one ever told me that, or promised to love me if I got found out...
When I landed in Arkansas is when I started riving truck. its also when I had my first full male/male adult encounter. yup no male male attraction just sex... my acid use stopped too, becuase I found MDMA- XTC. Suddenly I felt like I thought everybody else felt- connected. I also met a girl I thought I loved, but it was the x talking not my heart. I prayed a silly prayer as it collapsed that if she got disabled I could prove how loyal I was... Thankfully she is healthy but that is how insecure I was. That prayer is also going to save my life.
They say X isn't addictive, it is if you split. X makes you whole at least for a few hours. I was a fiend from the first pill and got arrested for dealing within 6 months. It didn't even slow me down, but it did set the stage for some healing. My drug use finally drove me to the edge of a bridge about 2 years after my arrest. I was timing the passage of semi trucks. But a therapist I had been seeing had kept stressing AA so instead of landing in front of a big truck, I landed in an AA meeting.
Prior to AA the only 2 men in my life I had ever trusted. Mr. H an old man who ran a teen drop in center before he died, and my grandfather. Maybe that is why if I have male friends they tend to be older. But anyway, at AA I met men who didn't beat me, abuse me, reject me... Instead they became a bunch of surrogate dads and taught me how to live, or tried to. What they actually did was teach me how to fake it better. They also taught me how to master my rage which is not a good thing. instead of getting rid of it, i learned to control it. But mastered rage is like a Lion abused by a circus trainer- you'd better not turn your back.
I knew by the time I started AA that I had borderline personality disorder (BPD), PTSD and an anxiety. So AA taught me how to actually pretend to have it together. I got clean, sponsored, gave public speeches and then went back to school... I looked like the perfect man. I won a full ride honors scholarship, got told how brilliant I was, how special.... I was God.... except I wasn't.
At school I met HER, guys if you have met your HER or your HIM you understand. I was born for this girl everything about her compliments me and vice verse. From the moment I saw her, I've never seen another. My porn addiction might force my eyes to look, but my mind has not seen. She also arrived as an answered prayer, right after she entered my life she got diagnosed with a disabling condition and I heard God chuckling.
Except I wasted my chance to heal. So we got married, I got to be a step dad to two wonderful kids who I consider my own- got a chance to not be my step dads- to prove they could have been my dad if they wanted to, and then we had a child of our own.
I also let her in my walls at least a little ways. But almost from the get go we had problems. Within a month an a half of us finding each other my grandfather died. I think I knew what was about to happen, him and my mom had been estranged for so long..... that is when the fights started. My soul knew my grandfather's secret and at the same time my wife miscarried.
As I suspected a couple of years later I found out from my mom that she was a CSA, that what I had suspected was true, my grandfather, my role model was a perp... I think that is when my ability to fake it completely unraveled.... It was one lie too many from my childhood. Mr. H is now the only positive example of a man from my childhood and my inner child needed more than that.
As a result, I never let my wife all the way in and after I found out the truth of my grandfather- I pushed her back out. I wasn't there when she miscarried a second time. I was there for her when we went to find out the sex and found only a stopped heart, but I wasn't there for the fallout.
I stopped treating her like my partner and started treating her like a servant. I also never really relaxed in bed, I still split. I can do anything in bed except be fully present. My wife has had me make love too her maybe 5% of all the times we had sex- the rest was just sex, and that is not what she wanted, me either now that I see it.
Eventually I stopped being present in my own home. I stopped being her best friend and spouse and became her lover... and child. It was just sex and her meeting my needs. She had 3 kids to deal with and I added a 4th- a 38 year baby to the mix.
I spent my time on the net, politics if she was awake, porn if she wasn't. I hate porn now. For years I justified it, excused it and I am addicted to it, have been since age 10. But I hate it, its not attractive, it twisted me up inside and taught me the wrong things about women and sex...
We started fighting, she got violent, begged me to be violent and so I did. I betrayed my hate of violence and engaged her. What a mistake.... I went too far: buried rage like a spark in a tinder box came roaring back to life- the lion mauled me and almost killed her and my unborn son. Our sex life also went totally sideways, we got extreme to try and keep things going. Fetishes, outsiders..... The kids ended up exiled: first to their rooms to stay safe, then my two step kids had to bounce between grandma's.... I did that for them, hell of gift kicking a 5 and 6 year olds out. But it was a gift it- got them away.
I also set the stage for her to get hooked on drugs by playing doctor- I didn't mean too but I did. And after she was hooked I took advantage of it. Now I wasn't even her lover, I was her John and her pimp....
Then in a moment of clarity I ran from the home- started driving truck again. I sent money back, but I wasn't there emotionally for her. And I betrayed my prayer. That girl I prayed for to be disabled, she wasn't but my wife is. I heard God chuckling when she got diagnosed, and I promised to stand by her and I failed- I wasn't there for her.
It was too much and the marriage imploded. She now has a live in boyfriend in my home with my family. I tried to kill myself (twice) right before my anniversary but failed. But it opened the door to this, my real past to come flooding back.
So now here I am a a sad desperate broken man. I am determined to convince my wife I am healing. I don't have any anger towards her, I drove her to him. In fact my anger is about burned up. I have some self hate, well more than some, and have had some flare ups which quickly burn out since there is no longer anything to sustain the rage- I found me. Its up to me to finally figure out how to man up and heal so that I can be fully present for her and my kids. So that I can prove that I will do my share, that my family really is safe that I really did break the cycle.
This is my story, and I hope others who are hiding and hurting will heal before they reach the spot I did. Abuse stole my voice, my ability to feel love, my ability to trust ad 30+ years of my life and all it gave me was rage, self loathing, and mental illness. But its my job to save me using what ever tools I can. Hopefully in so doing I can get my side of the street clean enough that my wife- my heart will see a way to believe again and open up a path for me to come home.
How can some stuff last so long and be so fresh and yet I can't have that memory for good stuff.