Please bear with me as I try to make this coherent as possible, but I have a lot of thoughts bouncing around my head right now. My abuse started around the time I was 6 or 7, unfortunately it also started for my younger brother at the same time, he was 4 or 5 at the time. Our common abuser was our older half sister, who I have learned recently was also a victim herself. It really bothers me a lot right now that I cannot remember a time where I didn't know what sex was. So the abuse continued for a few years and then my Dad got a job offer and our family moved from rural West Virginia to upstate New York. The abuse continued unchecked in the new location, and a few months later we moved again to a different house (I believe the reason was cost related), but that meant going to yet another school. This was in December when I was in third grade. I was now going to my third school in as many years. This living situation lasted the next year or so as things became increasingly bad between my parents, and the abuse continued for both me and my brother. Finally things became too bad between my parents and they separated with my brother and half sister leaving with my mom and me staying with my Dad. Things were very hard for me then because my parents were getting divorced, but at the same time, being the middle child I was now relishing all the attention I got from my dad at the time. I also feel like at this time both of my parents were guilty of trying to use our emotions against the other parent. I got to the point where as a 10 year old child I decided that I would never again let someone see my cry because that pain only gets used against you. Well I would still have to go spend time with my mom at her new place and since my sister was older and my mom was struggling financially, my sister was always our babysitter, and the abuse continued. I don't know to this day how things were for my brother at that time because he never once told me. Well fast forward to the end of my fifth grade year and things had fallen apart so badly with my parents that divorce had been filed for, and my dad decided to move back to WV with me and my brother (as he had custody of us now). So I was back to the school I had started in, but now I was "different" than everyone because I had a "New York" accent, and hadn't been around for 3 years. Over the next two years my parents had really intense custody battles over us kids. Also during this time me, my dad, and my brother moved again, this time in with my dad's girlfriend, and yet again another school change. I was at this school for a year. At the end of sixth grade, while my brother and I were spending half our summer vacation in NY (at this point I think I was the only one being abused) my dad moved out of that house and back to the town where it all started. So this entailed changing schools again (for those keeping score, this is the 5th school change) and I started the seventh grade. Things always seemed better when I lived with my dad and I think it's truly because I knew I was safe there. But oh did things change that year....somewhere along the line my mom finally won custody of my brother and me. She showed up with the paperwork on Thanksgiving day to pick us up and take us to New York. We didn't even know this was happening until my mom showed up at the door. So I moved back to New York and into my 6th school change. Only now my mom lived in a much bigger city and this was a total culture shock to me. To give you all an idea, I grew up in a county where there was literally a grand total of two black families, and that was as diverse as it got. And now I found myself in a school with a massively diverse student population. It shames me to say it to this day, because I know now I was just uneducated at the time, but I spent the first few months I lived there thinking every black person I saw was going to mug me. And the abuse continued. Over the next 4 years my parents had several more custody battles and I moved back and forth a bunch of times between parents. But the real significant thing that happened at this time, was that for the first time my brother and I got separated. I was in NY and he went to WV. For me the abuse continued until I was 14-15 I honestly can't really remember when it stopped. I still hung out with my sister and her friends at that time. They were all 18-25 and I thought they were cool, they'd let me smoke and drink, and let me hang out with them, because as I always heard for years "You are so mature for your age". At a party one night I was convinced to get in bed with a 25 year old woman that I was highly attracted to. The catch, her 30yr old bi-sexual boyfriend was also there. Being highly uncomfortable he left and I had sex with her that night and once or twice more before I turned 18. Another result of this is that I was asked to help the boyfriend move some stuff from his old apartment to hers and I willingly helped, only when we got there he ended up using it as an excuse to perform oral sex on me, which did not help my psyche in the least. Now on top of everything else I began to wonder "Am I gay?". I think through all those years the only reason I kept my sanity was because of my little brother. We had gone through the same hell and came out the other side, even if we didn't live together anymore. It's funny we never talked about what happened to us, other than once or twice when one of us was really messed up and would pop off with a mean spirited joke to the other about it. But he was the one who was always there with me, going through everything I had been through, all the moves, all the schools. My brother was the only constant I had through all this turmoil. Fast forward a few years, I was 21 and he was 19. At this point my brother got crushing news, he had been diagnosed with Anklyosing spondilitis. This is an ultra rare form of arthritis that makes the joint swell, then fuse permanently. At 21 he had to have his hip replaced and then 2 months after he turned 25 he had to have his lower spine broken and a titanium cage built around it. This was the year my world crashed to a complete halt. I was in my own failing marriage because of the ways I would act out. I had known my wife was chatting online with various men and we ended up separating for six weeks or so. Her preferred tactic was to drop me at my dad's house. Also at this point that relationship had become completely abusive. But I never said anything, because what kind of man lets his wife beat the shit out of him? During this time my wife also called the cops just to kick me out of the house, and filed for a restraining order claiming I had hit her. I have never once in my life hit a woman, and grew up being taught that even if one hits you directly in the face that a man does NOT put his hands on a woman like that. Twice she managed to convince a judge that I had hit her, and twice I was under a restraining order that made me miss my daughter's birthday. But back to my story, the same year we separated and she got the first restraining order the unthinkable happened. My brother called me one evening talking to me about dropping his son off to his ex girlfriend, and how he probably wasn't going to pick him up anymore. I was shocked because he had been fighting for months for every second of visitation he could get. He told me he and his current girlfriend had been fighting and that he and a friend were going to go blow off some steam, country style. (Out target shooting in an old quarry) I think I knew what was going to happen that night because I can remember telling him "Go hang out at Moe's tonight instead, and don't do anything stupid". The next day my stepmom called me and asked if I had talked to my brother at all that day and I told no, but I had the night before and asked why. She said well he left some really odd voicemails last night and no one can get a hold of him today. So I told her to let me call him and I would get back to her, figuring he was just in a mood to not talk to them. He always answered my call and this time he didn't. Then I couldn't get in touch with my step mom when I tried to call her back. So my wife and I took the kids to get some lunch and when we came home I saw on the caller ID where my mom and my dad had both tried to call me within 15 minutes of each other. And I knew it, my brother had shot himself about an hour and a half after I had talked to him the day before. And I lost the only person that I ever trusted to know my secret, I lost my best friend, I lost my little brother, the person I was supposed to protect. And now it's been a little over six years since that happened and I think I've been slowly spiralling downward since then. I can put the good face on for the world, 99.99% of the people that know me would say "Oh Mike, is the easiest going guy I know, he's always smiling and happy" But I am not. That's just the face I let the outside world see, because I think at the core of things I trust almost no one anymore. I look for the ulterior motives behind everything in the people around me. And now I have a wonderful woman in my life that has been the only person I trusted enough to tell my secret to and has helped me be strong enough to tell my mother, but at the same time, because of the ways in which I am untrusting, insecure, and act out I have pushed her away from me. It's killing me because by doing my fucked up stuff I've hurt her so badly, but it's also the way I know I can trust her and she deserves much better than I have treated her. And so now I sit here a 33 year old man at almost 5am confused and feeling more alone than ever. My mom wants me to come to New York to try to get some kind of social service help and my gf wants the time apart "To work on her" as she says, but what scares me the most is that if I leave for a month for help, I will lose her. And I don't know how to deal with that because it feels like being completely rejected by the only one I trust. I never even told my ex-wife in seven years together what happened to me. My brain tells me right now that if I can only get laid I will be happy, and I know that isn't the answer because as soon as I got off, WHAM welcome guilt and shame. What the hell should I do?
Edited by ModTeam (09/27/12 07:14 AM)
Edit Reason: Added trigger warning for reference to suicide