Going to try and open up for the first time......TRIGGER WARNING

Jacques snyman

So, I have been a member since 2011 and have never posted anything. I have always only read threads, forums and chats. Never responded because I do not know what to say. I would start typing and then delete it. Then I would avoid the website for some time. I am not entirely sure why. I was scared no one would believe me. I felt that my story would not matter. I thought "...everyone's story is far worse than mine, so why should I complain, I have no right to complain..".
I was in two chat rooms on Friday and yesterday and actually said something. Very kind and encouraging members told me I was brave...it doesn't quite feel brave yet...maybe that will come. Typing THOSE words made me feel very apprehensive and filled with anxiety. My heart was racing and beating so hard and it gave me flashbacks I had to switch my computer off. I just wanted to run.
So, today I said to myself: "self! just do it!!"
Well...F#@k this is hard. So my grandparents used to live with us. I only remember fragments of my childhood. almost like a puzzle. When a new memory manifests it often is after a recollection. My heart races, I smell a pipe and feel breathing on my shoulder. If it is a "big" puzzle piece I get a seizure and piss myself (sorry!). It is immensely embarrassing.
What I remember is that my grandfather smoked a pipe. He lost part of his pointer finger in some accident. He used to tell me to snuggle up with him in his bed and would push his erect penis against me while he tells me he loves me. I was his favorite. I think I was about 3. I remember that he would come into my bedroom when it was really dark. I'm unsure of how it would go but I would turn on my belly and then he would penetrate me. The pain was so much that I would pass out. I would wake up and I would have other pyjamas on. He would tell my parents I had a nightmare and I peed myself so he changed me. He sometimes would give me a bath and lay me on the bathroom floor and use THAT finger to penetrate me while ejaculating over me. All the time whispering that he loves me. It ended when he died.
Some memories are vivid. The smell of a cigar/pipe still makes me gag. His breath in my ear and over my shoulder. The gooeyness of ejaculate revolts me. I am a gay man and all though being gay and the things gay men should enjoy...and this sounds so stupid and trivial...and explicit and perhaps crass...but I used to have to know if my date/shag was circumcised as "he" was and it would freak me out and trigger, what I now know, was my ptsd. So stupid to actually see it in writing.
Not to mention actual intimacy. My "job" was to make you ejaculate and not be loved. That word used to send shivers down my spine. If anyone said those words to me then that would be the end of that path/relationship.
My sanity was sport. And I was good at it. Very good at it. Unfortunately I was in 8 different schools ( not because I was unruly-my father was an engineer). I ended up in boarding school at age 12 with a scholarship. I was painfully shy and kept myself to myself. played sport and did what was expected of me. Then one day, my sport teacher (who I admired a lot) and I came back from a competition. It was a weekend and most kids (co-ed boarding school ) had gone home for the weekend. He told me I can watch the '87 world track and field championships in his flat. I was so excited! I wanted to be an olympian. Had some orange juice and next thing I remember is I can not move. Laying on my stomach, tied up with him (sorry for the graphic) fucking me so hard that it tore my rectum. I ended in hospital and nothing happened. No one even asked what happened. How could I let it happen again, is something I struggle with....
I went home a few weeks later as it was summer holiday. My mother was very sick and by this time my brother and sister had left home and were in college.
One night my dad walked into the bathroom when I took a shower. He had a belt in one hand and his erect penis in the other. Told me to get on my knees and suck him off....I realized my purpose then. It happened a few more times after that...everytime was a little bit more violent...either before or after. Luckily he never penetrated me.
Now here I am today. And I am sorry to have said so much. Sorry whomever has to read this crap. sorry

I really admire how brave you are to tell your story. That must have felt like the hardest thing you’ve ever done (or one of the

Thankfully, we are not here to compete for who suffered the most, but even if we were all about comparing the making of our torment, you are a contender.

That’s a really awkward way to say. The trauma you feel is real and based on real traumatic events. You were sexually abused and raped by adult men who should have been protecting and nurturing you.
Please do not apologize for ANY of this post. We all see and accept it as your story, and I for one want to give you a 10-minute standing ovation for writing this out in public. Bravo, man! Incredible fortitude.

I’m glad you’re here. And I’m glad you shared. I hope you find relief and healing in your time here.
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Hi Jacques. I was in the chat room when you spoke them words and it was brave and courageous of you. I wish you had stayed and not left so quick. You have been in my thoughts. I hope now that you have written it all down and shared your experiences you feel better for it . I am sure everyone here is supportive to you and remember you are not alone. Hope you come back to chat soon.
Hey Jacques:

Thank you for sharing. You have said nothing except what you felt. You did not write too much and it was only crappy because perpetrators hurt you. I am so sorry. I can only imagine what courage it took for you to write it. I know it had to be hard. Bravo for you. We got your back man.
Hi Jacques

Thanks for having the courage to post your story. It is a massively hard thing to do.

I call that type and delete mode. lol I think it is common amongst us at least it is with me. I even post and have second thoughts about it and then go back and delete for some reason, have second thoughts I guess.

I also have trouble with chat it is a mine field of triggers for me, I don't go there at this time.
I'm so moved that you were finally able to tell us what happened... after nine years visiting MS. I'm deeply sorry for the many traumas you experienced as an infant, child, teen. It is horrifying that THIS is the world that exists for so many of us. Reading stories on this website is chilling but as one who survived my own hell realm as a result of what happened to me as an infant and a young child, I'm grateful this place exists and that there are brave men like you who dare to tell the truth. When you speak your truth Jacques you invite me to tell my truth. We no longer hide in the shadows, afraid of rejection, afraid of more pain. The world doesn't want to hear these things, believe these things. They want to maintain the illusion of happy, church going families loving one another. The medical staff who treated you for a torn rectum KNEW what they were seeing, but it was impossible for them to confront that reality and so they sent you back into the world to fend for yourself.

But we will listen. We will care. We will offer support as you first unpack these memories and then move beyond them... with self-compassion and self-care. It doesn't matter how long the journey to healing takes, because we're committed to claiming our aliveness. You are worth it my friend... we all are worth it, no matter what happened to us... no matter what we did to survive what happened to us. Nothing that happened before, during or after these traumas was your fault. Thank you for telling us the things you've been carrying alone for so long. You really belong in this brotherhood with all of us. You're not alone with any of it.
I’m so sorry your father, coach and grandfather were so selfish and uncaring that they would do those things to you. They should have been protecting you and helping you to feel valued and cared about. My own father would be loving, affectionate and would use me for his own sexual gratification. At least he apologized to me once, and that was so important to me because it was something for me to hold onto when I felt like shit and like it was my fault. I care about what happens to you. I understand how painful it is to be betrayed by people who are supposed to help you. Got bless you. I will pray for your continued healing.

Jacques snyman

I feel a shame of my life. I lived a double life. I was a rent boy after I left school. I did pornography. I thought this is my only purpose in life. This is almost harder to admit to than the abuse...im sorry
Please don't apologize Jacques. We've all done things we regret, things that have caused confusion and shame. It all was the product of sexual trauma. We were sexualized by the abuse and had no idea how to be with those often provocative feelings... so we found ways to act them out... you in producing pornography I could have been watching in a video arcade as I shared favors with anonymous men. We were all trapped by trauma and are finally seeking a way out of that hell realm. That is what we're doing here. You're not alone my friend.