41, married (barely), father of two. I think it's kind of sad and ironic how mid-life has brought all this stuff back up that I thought I'd successfully bottled up. My problem is that a couple of years ago as I became more and more depressed I started banging as many hookers as I could find. Wife found out a month ago and, well... hell hath no fury, you know.
So, Mom had all kinds of psychological issues, but mostly she just never developed mentally beyond the age of 14 or so. Dad hated her (more on him later). I was their only child and her only emotional support. She gave me baths well into my early teens. I hadn't thought about it in years, but now I remember the night before I started the 7th grade. I was outside playing with a friend, a neighbor girl as I recall, and she came out and made me come in for my bath. She spent the whole time in with me, soaped me up and made sure I was nice and clean for school the next day. She would rub my erection with a soapy cloth. She had done this many times, and it went on after that night as well.
Honestly, I hadn't even thought of this as "abuse" until recently when my own son started 7th grade last year. He hasn't had a bath or shower with anyone else in the room for at least 5 years. It's just unthinkable that I or his mother would need or want to clean him. I always hated her for being immature, but never really thought about the physical stuff she'd done. Now I can't stop thinking about it. I'm glad she's dead, but I'm mad that she didn't suffer more.
Fast forward a couple of years to when I was 14 or so and me and a neighbor boy were wrestling around in a tent. All I really remember is being held down and anally raped. I went home crying and told my parents. Dad became enraged at me. Screaming, yelling, calling me a faggot and then sending me to my room. He never really talked to me at all after that until he was dying of cancer when I was 19. The last thing he said to me was "You don't still like men do you?"
And then there was gym class in middle school. I was picked on by a lot of kids. One in particular would hold my head on the ground and alternately punch me in the face until I was bloody and force his fingers into my anus. Coach Johnson stood by and watched.
I have been unhappy and depressed for most of my life. I've tried to self medicate with alcohol, but it has caused unrepairable damage to my family relationships. I hate myself and everyone, except for my kids whom I love unconditionally. My feelings for my wife are more complicated. There was a time when I loved her dearly. I'm afraid I've fucked things up so bad that I just need to accept that she's gone and move on. I'm jealous that she is able to cry. I can't. No matter what I do or think or feel I just can't make myself care.
Thanks for reading