I am thinking about going to Orange Coast cummunity Colledge. They are unbelievably cheap, and due to my finacial status, i might be able to qualify for a small grant if i go full time. The only thing i am worried about is if my disability will be revoked if i attend full time. I am not sure if i could make it through anyways, and if they took away my disability for depression then i would be stuck with no money and no job. If I relapse, id probably have to wait again to get back on disability.

I keep remembering more and more little things. I was driving really bad today because i was thinking to hard about it. I freaked out three times and slamed on my brakes, once in the middle of a stop light that had just gone red. I got out of before the traffic started moving though. I didnt sleep at all last night, and i feel like my subconscious is closer to the surface or something because im so exhausted. I still have to go to a four hour class tonight, but i think the tension of driving all the way to costa mesa in rush hour traffic gave me a sort of mild, prolonged panic attack, combined with the always present anxiety of dealing with the abuse. I sometimes wonder if it is so bad i am blocking it out, what makes me think i want to remember it? It all boils down to this big blank spot from 3 to 8. I remember all sorts of stange things, things like how i felt when i was really little, so alone, and how i used to go to a babysitter. That part seems really nuts. I was going there between the ages 7 and 8. I remember because those were my favorite numbers. I remember once this todler they had named eddie was trying to climb this huge piece of furniture and i think it fell on him. I dont remember what exactely happened, I dont remember if i lifted it off him or stopped it before it fell, but he had a head injury, and i dont remember them ever calling a docter. One of the todlers the babysitter was sitting smeared shit all over the wall of this nursury room. I remember her screaming at her daughters all the time, the younger one especially. I think i remember she would cry sometimes when they were arguing. The daughters always had to look after all the kids. I kind of did too. The woman was babysitting too many kids at once and got busted for it. I remember there was this other girl named monica who used to be there too, and she was real snotty. She was really stuck up, but i had this big crush on her for a long time, probably because she was such a class act, i knew she would always cut me down for being "wierd" i remember her dad picked her up once in a pick up truck and he was screaming at me, something like "if i ever touch her again he'll kill me" I was 7. And i dont think i did anything that normal kids dont occasionally do. From what i remember she was always manipulating me and using my crush to make fun of me. And i would just take it. She was a really mean little kid. Thats how i remember it anyways, i hope im right. My therapist once said i have a really strong superego, it is what kept me going and what at the same time was holding me back. I just hope i can trust in that and that i have always tried to do the right thing, even when it kills me, are enough evidence that i didnt hurt anyone else. The babysitters name was Zuma. Something was definitely wrong there.

I also remember in first grade we had this teacher who would give out "birthday spankings" on kids birthdays. It didnt hurt, but it was humiliating, you had to sit there in front of twenty other kids and get laughed at. The kids were so fucking stupid they all thought what the teachers told them to, and made fun of me when i said no, i didnt want to. Something is definitely rotten here man.

This is a very large jigsaw puzzle, and the pieces are scattered around in a mansion. This is so slow, but it IS happening.

I dont knwo what i can do about my mother. I could send her to prison probably, because i know where she stashes her herion and have a key to the door. But shell be in and out in no time flat. The worst that would happen is she'd lose the house, and her job. From what i heard, the amount she had was a lot, probably enough for possesion for sale. I find myself again wondering if my stepfather is a dealer? He talked about it, said the shit was everywhere in vietnam. They tried to cover it up, the fact that so many GI's were getting hooked on smack, they made these methodone clinics and wouldnt send them back home until they were "sober" Methodon is just a prescribed low grade herion, it isnt that much less addictive than herion. The fact that three of my moms boyfriends were in vietnam and i suspect everyone of them was addicted to herion doesnt bode well for my forgotten childhood. The thing is, what qualifies for justice in this situation? The worst, and maybe most probable scenario is that she would get arrested, thrown in jail for few months to a few years (she is a repeat offender), lose her house and her job, and. though i am hesitant to say this, she will probably become dependant on somebody who can get her a fix. A junky prostitute. I guess its not so much of a change from what shes been doing her whole life, it is just that she manipulates the guys who are with her so she has some control over the relationship. Is that justice? Well, the way i see it, it is karma. I have a right to defend myself and stand up for myself, if she dies with a needle in her arm and a handfull of cash from a john, I didnt do it to her, she did it to HERSELF. Of course, if she has moved her hiding spot, this is probably a moot point, unless they can get dogs to sniff it out. Really doubt thats going to happen though.

In a way i feel sorry for her. I know her dad almost certainly abused her, from what my uncle tells me his house was pretty crazy. He said his dad once kicked down the door because he wanted to take them away from thier mother for a fishing trip. Typical. Ugly divorce? No shit...

Ug, that is enough for now, only have six more hours until i can sleep. I HOPe i can sleep.

Hope, Love, Virtue, and Justice to everybody here, i wish you all the joy in the world.

School would be a good thing, as long as you REALLY think you can handle it; and it sounds like your having a hard time right now. Ive been in and out of college over a period of ten years; its impossible for me to finish without dealing with my abuse first. Within the last month, i have finnally allowed myself to admit I was sexually abused; Ive always kept it hidden. I was severly physically, emotionally, and verbally abused by my father from birth until i was fourteen (when my mother divorced him); I hadnt been able to admit the sexual part. I plan on returning to school after i make some head way with this burden I have. You're not alone; here is a place where you will be understood and can always come for help. Never be afraid to ask for help.

I am not going to colledge for a degree at first, i was just thinking of taking a few courses i think i would like, like cartooning and karate. I also want to get into there phys ed, its like a cheap gym with a personal trainer. I am going to take weight training. If I AM strong, ill wont have to work as hard to convince myself that im not weak.

I am going to masonry school 12 hours a week, i cant get up early enough for the saturday class. I always feel like im going to freak, but i think i keep it together pretty well considering. Flashbacks cause you to flip like this, i cant stop now, because i am doing something i WANT to, and i am going to finish it, and i thik that is why this is happening, im starting to show myself i can handle it. I shouldnt have driven today, but i needed to go to class, because i needed to say i was on track with that.

Broken,

Hey, I like this idea, anything thats get you involved in life and around other people and gives you a reason to get up and get going some days sounds good to me.

One thing that was really hard for me to give up when i was new to this whole recovery thing was taking myself so seriously. Let me explain a little. I fell into this rut where i saw myself as this helpless victim that was so damaged that i could not be repaired, i convinced myself that i was helpless and it was hopeless. Lucky for me i had someone i respected that just told me one day i should try taking everyone but myself seriously, which to me meant that i quit listening to my continuous negative view of me and my situation and just got off my ass and started getting busy with life. I refused to let myself tell me i was too whatever to go and do anything, i just asked myself what do i need to do next to keep moving and get going and i did that, one step at a time. Many times i just forced myself to get up and go.

It was later i saw how i had been crippling myself and while i still struggle with it from time to time, i do lots better these days.

I wish you the best, and i say go for it!

Hugs,

John

SoCalJohn:

Wow, I can really understand you! I too suffer from negative thinking and holding myself back with it. It normally is not even conscious. It is usually something I just slip into from years of practice. I believe I learned it from my sick mother. I remember her doing the same thing many, many times.

I am still learning to remind myself to think positive NOT negative. And, I have made some headway but, at times I just slip into a funk or a rut as you said and I just get lost in it. I am praying for help and doing my best to remember the right way. Thanks for the post John!

rafael

STARTING OFF SLOW WAS MY STRATEGY WHEN I WENT BACK TO SCHOOL. I LOOKED FOR A 1 HOUR CREDIT CLASS THAT I THOUGHT WOULD BE A FUN CLASS. IT WAS A VOICE CLASS. I GOT AN "A". I KNEW THAT WAS A MISTAKE, SO I TOOK ANOTHER 1 HOUR CREDIT CLASS. I GOT ANOTHER "A"(ANOTHER MISTAKE ON THEIR PART). NEXT WAS A 2 HOUR CREDIT THEN A THREE HOUR CREDIT. IT WAS ANOTHER "A" PLUS ANOTHER "A". I'LL SHOW THEM , I THOUGHT. I TOOK A 5 HOUR CREDIT CLASS AND ACE'D IT TOO. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND STARTING OFF SLOW. YEARS AGO I DIDN'T DO THAT AND I DEFEATED MYSELF.---------- GOOD LUCK

RJD

The victom thinking sometimes is what is lurking in the corner. It feels like a monster that is waiting for me to give in so it can eat my soul. It is hard to explain just how HUGE this dark clot in my mind feels. It is also in part because i am terrrified of confronting my mother. I do not want to have to go through any more trauma with my family, but i know i will never be able to live with myself if i dont take some sort of action against her. If i am going to send her to jail, im going to have to be there, im going to have to watch as they throw her in the back seat of the police car, AGAIN, only this time when she gets out, I wont run to her after school gets out and hug her, i will have to face the fact that she is a child molester and a drug user, that she didnt care about me enough to stop using drugs. Maybe i picked up something from that, maybe i knew she was still on drugs and blamed myself everytime she got wasted. Maybe thats why my thinking is so messed up, "if i was a better person i could have saved her from drugs." Maybe that is why i always thought i was a failure, because i couldnt make her stop seeing loser boyfriends, i couldnt make her love me more than them, i couldnt keep her from drinking and letting herself get yelled at and degraded by them. She would let me play therapist and tell me all her problems, but i never could keep her from hurting herself or make her love me as much as she loved herself.

I am too tired to get heavy into this tonight. Its impossible to start thinking about that without the big black wall coming up where i cant remember anything. I have hazy half dream, half interpative memories that come in little bursts then flood out of my mind just as quick. Things like unescisary enemas and being used like a doll to put makeup on, tangled connections between the extreme fantasies i am working on and what might have happened. Lately i dream about taking charge and being with her, it makes me sick with disgust, but i dont feel as guilty, because they seem more closely related to trauma than hurting myself. From what i understand, fantasies like these are almost healthy, they signify taking control of your sexuality. It still feels real bad, but not As bad.

HI BROKEN.
WHEN I READ YOUR WORDS I HEAR THE SUPER-HUMAN STRENGTH
AND COURAGE COMING THROUGH IN AN ALL TOO HUMAN CONDITION
YOU ARE LIVING IN. YOUR BURDEN IS HEAVIER THAN ANYONE SHOULD
BE SADDLED WITH, AS ARE THE OTHERS ON THESE PAGES. WHAT IS
AMAZING IS HOW WE CAN SOMETIMES MANAGE TO GET UP IN THE
MORNING AT ALL.
EXAMINING OURELVES, THEN RE-EXAMINING OURSELVES, AND TRYING
TO UNDERSTAND THE PERVASIVE PAIN OF WHAT HAPPENED TO US,
SEEMS TO GO ON AND ON FOREVER. I HAVE FELT THAT IF I WERE
SUDDENLY ABLE TO UNDERSTAND, THE PAIN WOULD RESOLVE AND GO
AWAY. FOR ME, TO THINK ABOUT NOT PERPETUALLY RE-EXAMINE MY
EXPERIENCES MEANT I SHOULD, "GET OVER IT" OR "WHY ARE YOU
HANGING ON TO THIS", AND I FELT ASHAMED THAT I WAS UNABLE
TO LET THESE THINGS GO. TO NOT RE-EXAMINE MY EXPERIENCES
SEEMED TO SAY, PRETEND MY TRUTH DID NOT EXIST NOR DO I
DESERVE TO EXIST. I LEARNED WHAT I WAS TAUGHT VERY WELL.
I KNOW THE LESSONS BY HEART.
AT ONE POINT THE IDEA CAME TO ME TO TRY AND LOOK AT THESE
THINGS A LITTLE DIFFERENTLY. IT WAS AROUND A TIME THAT I WAS
READING A BOOK BY JOHN BRADSHAW TITLED, "HEALING THE SHAME
THAT BINDS YOU." PUTTING THINGS IN A SAFE PLACE WHERE I
COULD ALWAYS GO TO RE-EXAMINE MY ISSUES AS MANY TIMES AS I
NEEDED TO, AS OFTEN AS I NEEDED TO. THE IMAGE OF A JAR TUCKED
AWAY ON A PANTRY SHELF COMES TO MIND. THIS JAR COULD REST
ON A SHELF WHILE I CONTINUE TO HAVE NEW LIFE EXPERIENCES. AT
FIRST I COULD PUT THE JAR DOWN JUST FOR A FEW MINUTES, THEN
IT WAS EVERY MORNING THAT I NEEDED TO DO THIS.
ONE SLOW DAY AT WORK I MADE A LIST
OF THINGS I WANTED TO DO THE NEXT DAY
ON MY DAY OFF. I HAD BECOME HONEST
ENOUGH WITH MYSELF AND WITH THE
REALITY OF MY DAYS I LISTED "FEEL
SORRY FOR MYSELF" AT 8:30 - 9:00. THE
NEXT MORNING I WAS IN A FOG AND DID THE
FIRST THING ON MY LIST AND GOT INTO THE
CAR. I HAD REMEMBERED
WELL ENOUGH THAT MY MORNING TASKS
WERE ERRANDS. WHEN I FINALLY LOOKED
AT THE NEXT THING I HAD TO DO, " FEEL
SORRY FOR MYSELF" I BURST INTO LAUGHTER
AND TEARS AT THE SAME TIME. I WAS SO
HYSTERICAL THAT I HAD TO PULL OFF THE
ROAD FOR TEN MINUTES. I HAD LEARNED
TO REALIZE AND ACCEPT SOMETTHING NEW
ABOUT MYSELF
EVENTUALLY AFTER A YEAR OR TWO I WAS TAKING THE JAR DOWN
ABOUT ONCE OR TWICE A WEEK. THERAPY SESSIONS WERE A FORM OF
TAKING DOWN THE JAR AND EXAMINING THE CONTENTS. BEING IN A WEEKLY
MEN'S SUPPORT GROUP WAS ANOTHER. CALLING A FRIEND AND
ASKING HIM TO WITNESS MY PAIN WAS YET ANOTHER. COMING TO
THIS SURVIVOR PAGE IS A WAY WE ARE ALL FORMING A CONTAINER
FOR THE PAIN. EXPRESSIVE ART, MUSIC AND JOURNALING ARE OTHER
WAYS.
BROKEN, IT DOES NOT SOUND LIKE YOU ARE SAFE, EVEN NOW.
I GUESS THIS PART IS UNCLEAR TO ME, ARE YOU LIVING AT HOME WITH
YOUR MOM NOW?
ONE OF THE THINGS THAT HELPS ME HEAL IS GETTING DISTANCE FROM
THE TRAUMA. IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU'RE NOT GETTING THAT.
YOU SEEM TO TAKE COMFORT IN YOUR WRITING HERE AND I HOPE IT
CONTINUES TO DO THAT FOR YOU. YOU BRING THE PRECIOUS GIFT OF
WHO YOU ARE TO ALL OF US HERE. YOU ARE PRECIOUS. IT DOESN'T
SOUND LIKE YOU CAN FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT YOURSELF NOW OR EVEN CONTEMPLATE THE NOTION. WE HERE KNOW HOW FOREIGN THAT NOTION CAN BE. I AM CONCERNED
FOR YOU AS I AM CERTAIN THE OTHER CARING MEN ON THESE PAGES ARE.
WE KNOW YOUR PAIN AND YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

----------------- BEGENTLE WITH YOURSELF
------------------------------------ RJD

P.S. STARTING WHEN I WAS 30 I WAS PROFOUNDLY DEPRESSED AND SUICIDAL AND I SAW A THERAPIST FOR SEVEN YEARS. I TOOK A BREAK FROM THERAPY FOR ABOUT 5 YEARS. DURING THE BREAK I WAS DOING MY OWN WORK AROUND RECOVERY BY READING NEW BOOKS ON THE SUBJECT ,AND BY BEING PART OF A MEN''S SUPPORT GROUP AND GOING TO 12-STEP SURVIVOR MEETINGS. I RE-ENTERED THERAPY FOR ABOUT A YEAR UNTIL MANAGED CARE CRAPPED ON ME.