Bornfree, but not Livingfree!

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It was one of those perfect sunny days when only a few white puffy clouds may drift across an otherwise perfectly blue sky. The temperature probably that late July or early August day was perfect too, as I remember wearing only a t-shirt and shorts. I was 4 years old.(I am now 60! but some memories stick to me like glue) Anyways the first time I was assaulted was I remember being perstered by my playmate C who was only a couple of months older than me. He was the youngest of 7 brothers, at the time, I was the younger child, with my sister being 2 yrs older. Anyways, C kept at me about pulling my shorts and underwear down and he would "show me" something that would feel really nice. Finally to keep him quiet I reluctantly obliged. he told me to bend over and hold my butt cheeks apart and then he picked up a twig from the ground and started gently poking my anus with it and tickling it. He also inserted it a little bit too. He did this for a couple of minutes and then we both stopped and I pulled up my shorts and underwear. I felt so embarrassed having shown him just about everything private about my body and some shame I guess, but I would tell my parents because it was embarrassing and I didn't really know how to bring up the topic. This went on a few times that summer, until school started, (kindergarten) and by then we both had pretty much forgotten all about the sexual escapade. When I was 9, he and his brother for some reason ganged up against me and started telling the neighbourhood boys - there were a bunch of us hanging around in the bush talking on this nice summer day and suddenly C and his next older brother started ganging up on me and spilling the beans about what I had done a few years earlier. I was pretty embarrassed and upset that they would break my trust of silence. I picked up a small stone attempted to throw it at my feet, instead it slipped between my fingers and hit a nearby boy just above his eye, and caused some bleeding. By the time I was got home which was only a couple of minutes later, my dad was on the phone with the boys parents talking about what I did. Now I tried to tell my dad what happened, but he would refuse to listen. He just said, how many times have I told you not to throw rocks!. Well, next thing he tells me to do is to pull my shorts and underwear down and then he takes his belt and belts me over my bare backside. Once again, having the humiliation of being force stripped! Ihave never told him about what really happened that day. Over the next few years the bullying at my schools just kept getting worse. I was involved in fist fights, verbal swearing constantly at me, name calling and not the "nice name" calling but very derogatory names. I also had some of them come to our home and destroy our chicken coup, another time they smashed up my tonka playground -bridges over water. I was not even able to live on my own property without fear of being "attacked" in one form or another. One fall day when I was now 10, I was out in the playground using a regular garden shovel and I heard footsteps coming up from behind me. It was the next door neighbour J and one of his friends I did not recognize. I turned around with the shovel in hand and almost threw it, - drove it, into J's chest to kill him, and next his friend. By the grace of God, I did not, but I threw the shovel down at their feet literally, so it stood there in the ground right in front of them. I took off in (I don't know what state I was in, but crying) running into the house. Another trust broken, because just that previous summer a few months back, I invited J to come to my birthday party and we all went to an animal zoo and got to ride an elephant! So what changed? After that year of school in grade 5, in which I lived in fear every day, parents put me in a different school many miles away, meaning I had to be driven to school and then picked up. Well, actually not the worst thing, because it meant that I had my dad for those miles of driving to myself, and we talked. See the car pic I have. That was the car my father had, then years later gave it to me! What a beautiful car to drive and handled the roads so perfectly.

So at this "new school" another farm community school of about 700 kids, buildings built I think just after the war, but some others were built before the war I think. For a while it was good and though I did not have many friends, I felt safer at first. Then a bit later on, the bullying started and continued through grade 7 until I got very sick in March. More fist fights, items stolen, sworn at with again very vulger words, and one time during phys-ed class the boys got a hold of my leather dress shoes, threw them into the urinal, and peed all over them! I had things thrown in the trash, things stolen out of my desk, threats, you name it. Worst, I had to walk a mile up to where my father was working and met him when he was done work. In March of that school year, just before we moved into a big city, I got sick, and ended up in hospital. Then that horrible journey through the hospital for at least a week. Did not see much of my parents that week, or anyone, I felt somewhat abandoned.
Anyways, finally discharged, barely able to walk, but I did, walked to my mothers car and she drove me home to my new home. I remained at home for I think another week until I felt ready for school. Parents gave me a choice to go back to my previous school, or finish the year in yet another school, but a private Catholic school where uniform was required. For the very first time in all my years, I felt like I fit in. Small class sizes of maybe 20 students top, vs 40 at previous schools. I did feel an inner peace, but something else was now wrong and I couldn't figure it out. walking to the school, or back home, I was exhausted. It was only a mile long walk, about the same as before, but this time I collapsed after school and couldn't do anything for a while. Now I realize that several things happened. When sick, I lost a lot of muscle, (I was sick for about a month) and I had suffered a very mild brain injury weakening my right side. I did not really notice the weakness, but you kinda know what your body is saying. Summer finally came, and once again a beautiful summer and I completely forgot about the past struggles. I had also been accepted into a boys private boarding school nearby, that day students could attend. I thought great, I could do what the other boys were doing and learn football and other things, and I would put all my effort into my studies and get good grades. (I thought I could do that, and should have been able to but...) Encephalitis had disrupted my ability to retain information, and I also lost about half of my grade 7 knowledge of math. Well at private schools, the curriculum is rather fast paced, we had 3 terms, exams at the end of each term. Withing the first 2 weeks of starting the school, I realized something really bad was wrong, but I could not figure out what. I could no longer keep up with my peers in phys-ed, I was no longer as strong as I thought I should have been, and my memory was bad. On top of all that, at the end of the school day, I was exhausted, and I had to go to bed by 9pm homework done or not, or I would be a total wreck the next day. I wandered the halls of the school between classes, wondering what the heck was wrong with me, I should get it! I failed first term phys-ed and that was a real blow, because how can anyone fail a class like that. Parent teacher nights, everyone said I could do the stuff if I put more effort into my studies. I had nothing left to give, I was working full out and that was not nearly enough. Asked my father for help, he refused, and I felt like I was no longer worth the effort of anyone helping me, and I felt like an unwanted piece of trash!

All for now, corrections may be needed!
The summer between grade 5 and 6, the sexual abuse from C and his first older brother started up again but this time different. I remember one summer day again, very nice weather, I saw they had hot dogs for lunch. I thought it would be nice to have one, but they made one condition. I had to pull my pants down and show them my underwear! Again, I was reluctant, but I caved in, so we walked into the bush a very short walk from where we were standing, like maybe 50 feet, and pulled my pants down and showed them my underwear. At this time however, I had started going through puberty. I had a very hard erection when I pulled my pants down, and it must have been very obvious to my 2 friends, so they once more needled me into just a peek, and then down came my underwear, showing them both my erect penis. Well, there were 2 thoughts going through my mind at that moment. It felt really nice to be outside naked, the other was shame and embarrassment showing them my privates like that! (I would rather have had them strip too, and then us 3 could run around in the bush or their giant backyard naked and lie in the sun.) Anyways, this day, mission finally accomplished, pulled everything up and then went back to where we were just prior. D, then went into the house and came out with a hot-dog for me. By this time, I was feeling sick to my stomach with embarrassment, guilt and shame for what I had just done, and I could no longer eat anything. They threw the hotdog down on the ground and then the cats came over and started eating it. Ok, so now having stripped once, they wanted to see me more, so we would go back into the bush and I would strip semi-naked. This went on almost daily for the rest of the summer, and then not as much, but into the fall and winter (when not too cold) with just C. Over the course of the first few weeks
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