Having A Hard Time

Having A Hard Time
C

Craig Mat

Registrant
I'm having a hard time & I don't know where to start.
As I read these Posts & Stories there was a lot of pain and anger in the begining, and people took from a Child.
My Uncle was there to pick me up when I was given up by my mom & dad ( I still don't know why or remember anything be for being sent to live with my Grandmother & Uncle?)
He was so gental so easy to be with. He showed me so much attention that to a kid of 7 that had NO ONE this was fantastic. He's assult of me was slow ( He had 4 years). I loved him I didn't understand he said he loved me. He held me, he played with me, he took me everywhere with him, HE RAPED & shared me with the boy next door as a 7 yr old I didn't know any better he loved me he held me I had no one else. The pain is now how could he do that to someone that trusted him I LOVED HIM there was no one else. I LOVED Him even when he died I felt a loss.
I hate him I feel like he used me as his girl friend. He was so gental and playfull I didn't know. Being with him made me happy that I had someone, If I hurt at least he didn't leave.

I don't know if I made any sense or not the Pain & Hate I feel now is not what I felt in the begining. That abuse never came till I was sent back to my Parents

Tanks for lissening, Craig
 
Craig, my uncle did very much the same thing to me. I lived with my parents, but my dad hated me. He told me that he could have been a better father if I'd been born different. My mom, well she's about as cold as they come. We lived a million miles from anywhere. I was home-schooled, didn't have any friends, my hero granddad died--I had no one. Then my uncle moved in with us. I had no idea what was happening.

I think that's how we get so mixed up. Maybe the abuse even seemed like kind of a good thing back then. Suddenly, as we grow up, we realize what actually happened. It occurs to us that what seemed like playing was rape. How can our minds deal with that? It's like my whole life was a lie, you know?

I understand your pain and hate. And I also understand how it wasn't that way at first. We were born in the middle of all that. How could we know it wasn't normal? It's like a baby goat raised by dogs. He thinks he's a dog.

I'm really sorry your uncle did that to you. We didn't deserve to be taken advantage of like that. You deserved a better life without pain and hate. I'm always here to listen. PM me anytime.
 
Craig, there is a whole load of hurt in there, to a 7yo, he would not have known really what it was all about in his mind.

Sexualising a child at such a young age must have brought so many problems to you, but you would have had no way out, and not knowing it was so wrong to do these things.

I used to have my nephew sleepover with his Gran, and I read him stories for hours, but nothing in my mind ever thought of abusing him, cos, I saw this really loving innocent child.

The rest of the story here, just compounded your story, but I think it may have been an extension of the previous assault, because maybe you where not the same kid any more,

it is only my feeling,

ste
 
Craig,

I understand completely, my grandfather was the only male figure I had in my life and I loved him and he loved me (at least he said) yet he raped me, he shared me just as you discussed. Yet I still loved him, it was the only male love I knew at the age of five and did nit know it was really wrong until later in life. I hated him for it, but I loved him still. I call it loving abuse, a serious oxymoron. My grandfather is dead now I was very sad when he died, I thought I would feel some relief, but I don't.

I was also abused by others and I came up with abuse categories, as terrible as it is. In therapy we talk about the "loving" abuse by my grandfather (he did not seriously physically harm me, he was very "easy" on me) and we talk about the "bad" abuse, those who inflicted serious pain on me. I am just beginning my road of recovery but I cant help but categorize the abuse.

I know how you feel (at least I think). I dont feel the same as I used to, love pain and hurt, they were not meant to mix. It is very confusing I have no answers. I wish I did.
 
Craig, One of the parts of this whole thing that I can't quite sort out is the love part. If it's the only love you're getting from someone and he's holding you and that's the only time you get held by him and you really need to be held by him and you love him, and more than that, you need to love him and you need him to love you, then all of those things he's doing to you get all mixed up in the love some way. Little kids can't really separate all of that out. And then, when we're adults and the memories come and as adults we understand all of the levels of things that were going on there and how some of it probably was really an honest affection and some of it was taking horrible advantage of a young boy's need and of a young boy's heart....

I have trouble with that, Craig. I will never understand why he just couldn't love me...why he just couldn't hold me. I'm sixty years old and I still want him to hold me. And I don't know exactly where the love ended and the evil started or why I now understand that it wasn't love but violation, but that I wanted it...want it...to be love.

I don't hate him. I just don't understand why. What about me couldn't he love? What about him was cracked and broken that made him do those things to his little boy instead of just holding him and loving him? I can't get mad at him yet. I'm still in the "why" stage. I'm still searching for a reason. Somewhere inside I think there's got to be a reason and that, if I find the reason, everything will make sense some way. Of course, I know it won't, but that little boy inside me isn't giving up yet. He still wants to love his Daddy. He still wants to think his Daddy is the greatest man in the world. And that's when it all hurts the worst.

I'm so sorry your uncle hurt you, Craig. I always hesitate to say "I know how you feel", but this time,I think I just might. I'm so sorry. It hurts so bad sometimes it almost rips a hole inside you. Bobby
 
Thanks Guys,

I have a lot of problem remembering my time with him. I totaly trusted him it was very hard when he would ask/tell me to do the same things with the boy next door that we would do when we played. But if it pleaseed Uncle Bob and he never left then it was OK.
When my mother would take me to there bed just so my dad would see me there & then beat the crap out of me when he was drunk. I wanted to go back to him I know I was loved by him. When my mom would take the broom stick to be because I wanted to leave, he wasn't there to save me.

I'm just rambling on sometimes I get going in my head it doesn't always make sence & I sorry for that, but I just need to release.

Why did he say he loved me then send me back to them.
 
I hurt for you and I hurt with you, Craig. And it is good that you come here and get some release and relief from that pain and loss and hurt that can be so hard to understand.
I too cried when I was separated from the man who first abused me. He had shown me so much attention and "love" so when he violated me I thought it was okay too. But for a long time, he was the only one around, the only one who seemed to care. I felt that I could have and should have done anything for him.
Memories come slowly. I think because they come at a rate we can handle.
In peace and brotherhood,
Steve
 
I don't think I even processed the abuse I suffered from my sister until, some twenty years later, I had to realize that the ideas I had about love and caring and how a person shows love were wrong, and that I had been sexualized wrongly.

I was 8, for f&*ck's sake and I told my aunt that I kissed a girl because "I was desparate."

At the age of twenty-one, I was sent to CA to help my sister drive home to Massachusetts, and I realized, some years later, that I had secretly hoped we would have an affair on the week-long journey back. My godd#$ned sister was the love of my life.

This is the awful trick of the abuser. Whether they do it on purpose, or not, they teach you things that are NOT CORRECT. It is not your fault, and it is not mine, that our abusers taught us to love them for all the wrong reasons. They taught us the WRONG definition of love.

Peace,
James
 
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