A big empty space

A big empty space
L

Lloydy

Registrant
Sitting here I can look up and see the colourful Indian tapestry we bought home from Nevada, an Ansell Adams print of Yosemite Valley, a picture of the house I grew up in, an old poscard showing our house dated 1903 and lots of photographs that I have taken on out travels.
I like walls covered in pictures, especially ones that mean something to me.

And I know I've often mentioned the old newspaper photograph of me, and all my friends, when I was about ten years old.
It's a newspaper picture of a Scout Troup at a Jamboree, and we're all dressed as pirates.
When I found it again about four years ago it struck a chord in me, I looked happy and I was, it was a happy time before the abuse started.

So I put it on the wall, and young David gave me a lot of support.

Last night I took it down ready to take and show the guys in my group, and as I was putting it in an envelope it slipped out of my hand........and in a chance to remote to even think about, it fell into the shredder and went through before I could stop it.

I never believed something that would seemingly be so insignificant normally, could actually be so important.

I keep looking up and he isn't there.

Dave
 
Dave,

Little, happy Dave is still there, the happy times in your childhood are still there, just one visible reminder is gone. Maybe the archives at the newspaper would have something on microfiche that you could get a copy of.

Photographs are important to me now too. I've seen a lot of them from when I was a little kid and I don't remember anything about when or where they were taken. The fact that I was there and smiling is a reminder that there were happier times even if I can't always remember them. I remember the other times all too vividly in the greatest detail. It seems sometimes that those memories burned away all the wonder of childhood out of my existance.

We were all little and vulnerable at one time. In times of stress I sometimes start to feel that way again. Seeing pictures of myself as a little kid help me realize that I am now a lot stronger and more in control of what happens to me and what I do. It's reassuring.

Take good care of yourself,

Steve
 
Dave,

I'm sorry to hear about that. I read about photos and boyhood clothes as I'm catching up and I felt sad that I have so little from before the physical abuse began. I can only imagine how sad you must feel to have something like that and lose it. I hope you can find something from a microfiche, etc., or maybe one of the other guys in the troup would have a copy.

Remember though that little Dave is in you. Steve's right that the photo was a single visible reminder. The boy lives on, and I'll wager he's had an ounce of fun now and again with an adult sized 4x4, too! :)

Joe
 
Thanks, I was so pissed off and upset late Sunday night - I hardly slept, and Monday I was not much better.
But I'm ok now.

I'm going to get a new photo next time I go to my parents house, there's going to be one there somewhere that will hit a new spot for me I bet.

But I think I will try our local paper and see what access they have to their archives, I did like that picture - I just looked so happy :)

Dave
 
Dave:

That was really unfortunate. But you are doing the right thing. Looking to replace it with an equally happy picture and that is good. I got rid of all, and I mean all, my childhood pics. I cannot ever remember not forcing a smile
 
sorry you lost such a personally important reminder of life before abuse. i was looking through old stuff the other night, and i know how emotional those can be.
 
Originally posted by mikechurch:
I got rid of all, and I mean all, my childhood pics. I cannot ever remember not forcing a smile
Click to expand...
As sorry as I am to hear about the picture and techno screwup that caused its loss. On the other side I just wanted to say I was glad to read this from Mike.

As I sat here reading this thread and other threads about the litte one inside, well - the times I really remember being happy where after I turned 15 and the last gay 'relationship' ended. Then I had a few ok years where the only times I really remember being happy - no one was around.

My wife always loves pictures and yet I seldom do. I guess I feel the same with a forced smile.

Val
 
I went to get a picture of the sunset at Rosarito Beach. I didn't take it. Some one once said a picture is worth a thousend words, but at that moment I found I had nothing to say.
 
Dave, I think the papers archives is a good idea. I would think that they have it. But, you may need to give them a date around which you think it was taken.

Go for it tho. I know that looking at pictures of me as a child and youth has been one of the most healing things I have done.

Bob
 
Dave,

Guess I missed this post earlier in the week.

I'm sorry for your loss, but you are taking the right course. I'm sure the paper will have it in their archives.

Good luck!!!

Aaron
 
Thanks guys, I think I will try the paper and see if I can replace it. It meant a lot to me, I try to conjure up the picture every night before I sleep in an effort not to forget it.

But on a positive note - I got the big box of old pictures from my parents yesterday morning and spent the day going through them and saving the decent ones onto CD.

Late last night I printed out two montages of the best pic's to take to the group today. We're doing the young boy stuff at the moment.

And looking through those old pictures, blowing them up on the screen, printing them out; And Linda helped me as well, was a great thing to do.
I hadn't looked at all those old pictures for about ten years, I'd forgotten what was there.

I found a sequence of the formal, individual, school pictures that went from about age 7 to 16.
That was interesting........ spot the difference at about age 11 !! Linda spotted it immediatlely. I think I did, but perhaps I didn't want to admit to it ?

The other's were even better for me, as usual there were many bent and creased pictures of my brother and me growing up, and many of them with a smiling, caring parent, aunt, uncle or cousin by our sides.
It was a fairly normal, caring family.

I have had some issues about whether my parents ever knew about my abuse, the headmaster knew and did nothing - but did he ever tell my parents ?
Logic tells me he didn't, my dad is a regular guy, doing the best he can. My mother is a bit scarey - still ! Back then she would have been going ballistic, they both would.

Logic told me that, but I had this tiny grain of doubt that wouldn't go away.
Looking through that box of pictures has dispelled that doubt, it's made my childhood a lot clearer, sharpened my perspective of what actually happened before my abuse.
Ok, I realise I was vulnerable. And that was due to my upbringing and the situation of my early life.
BUT - I can see now that they did the best they could. And I can't possibly ask for any more can I ?
They were different times, and I hate to use the word "ignorant" - but they were ignorant of many things that parents today take for granted, because of their upbringing by my grandparents.
And I can see they made many efforts to improve their lives, and mine and my brothers, but they had no role models to learn from.
So my vulnerability wasn't their "fault" - it was a circumstance of the environment we grew up in.
( My brother wasn't SA'd at all, but we share many hang up's )

So, there's a new picture up there, a montage of about 12 pictures from me as a baby to me at 50 with my mom and dad, Linda, and my brother.

I'm in every picture, alongside some who I now know did care, and love me.

It's an ill wind and all that, but some good has emerged in the end.

Dave
:D
 
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