General Thoughts to Share I Am Overwhelmed...
I am overwhelmed by this place:
By your courage
By your pain
By your persistence
By your love and support for each other
Just in the last couple of days I have experienced so many firsts because of you. Last night for the first time since I remembered being raped at 10 I really let my anger out. Anger has always been my emotional third-rail. My family was violent. My father bullied and beat my older brothers, who bullied and tortured my other brother. I was still very young so was mostly spared, but I was a witness and I was sickened and terrified of what anger could do to them. When I discovered that anger lurking in me and looking for a target at 7 years old and finding it in my infant sister whom I just kicked into a wall as she was happily crawling around for no reason other than my pleasure, I was disgusted with myself and promised to never, ever be like them. Being raped and being made to feel that I was corrupt garbage only exaggerated this prohibition and I used even my best qualities -- empathy and compassion -- against myself. Each time I would show anger was just more evidence of how terrible I was and I would make myself pay with horrible feelings of guilt, self-disgust and depression.
But last night was different. My anger began because of posts I read here. I was angry for the horrible betrayals I read about -- by parents and priests, wives and "friends" and families turned accuser. I was angry because of the lost years, broken relationships, menial jobs. Most of all the loneliness made me angry -- the fact that all those boys and men who needed and need understanding and love where left abandoned for so long...
And then I got angry for what happened to me. I yelled at the monster who took my innocence in the hospital at 10 years old and because of whom I have never been able to be intimate with anyone without the weight of guilt and shame and outrage. I wished the older man whom I trusted as a father and who raped me when I was drunk at his son's birthday party to Hell. He knew how hurt I already was -- how needy and vulnerable. But he didn't care. Putting his cock in me was more important to him than my soul. I got really angry at my parents -- at my asshole father who never cared about any of us really, but only about control and about how we made him look good or bad. He never even really saw me, except one time. I was furious at my mother for not seeing that I had changed when I came home from the hospital -- for not knowing something terrible had happened to me -- for not fucking looking because it would have been too painful for her. My mother loved me, but she was a coward. And finally I let myself get really angry at my wife whom, when I told her in tears what had happened to me said only, "I'm sorry. Now you know what it's like." Not even a single hug. She thought only about our relative suffering and decided she came out on top and thus I didn't need any pity. Somehow by having been raped I had threatened her. My wife was also a coward in the end, and chose bitterness and anger over hope and love. I finally was able to yell out that I was glad she was gone -- that I was finally free. It felt right. I didn't feel good, but it felt true. It was me.
And when I woke up this morning and the feelings of desolation began, I told myself, "No, you don't have to do that to yourself. You don't have to make yourself feel that way." And I thought of this place and of writing this here. And I told myself that it's OK if I'm a mess today -- if I fall apart a little and have to cry... It's my Truth. It's (part of) who I am.
So here I am. I will NOT hide anymore. I will NOT choke down my bitterness, anger and outrage in isolation. I WILL share the Hope and Love I have and find along the way. Those are much better promises to myself than the ones I made as a victim/child to NEVER let anyone in, to NEVER need anyone, to NEVER trust myself because I was dirty.
I want to write "I love you all" but I keep looking for a reason not to, as if I need a reason to feel love, as if love could be something to be ashamed of...
I love you all.
By your courage
By your pain
By your persistence
By your love and support for each other
Just in the last couple of days I have experienced so many firsts because of you. Last night for the first time since I remembered being raped at 10 I really let my anger out. Anger has always been my emotional third-rail. My family was violent. My father bullied and beat my older brothers, who bullied and tortured my other brother. I was still very young so was mostly spared, but I was a witness and I was sickened and terrified of what anger could do to them. When I discovered that anger lurking in me and looking for a target at 7 years old and finding it in my infant sister whom I just kicked into a wall as she was happily crawling around for no reason other than my pleasure, I was disgusted with myself and promised to never, ever be like them. Being raped and being made to feel that I was corrupt garbage only exaggerated this prohibition and I used even my best qualities -- empathy and compassion -- against myself. Each time I would show anger was just more evidence of how terrible I was and I would make myself pay with horrible feelings of guilt, self-disgust and depression.
But last night was different. My anger began because of posts I read here. I was angry for the horrible betrayals I read about -- by parents and priests, wives and "friends" and families turned accuser. I was angry because of the lost years, broken relationships, menial jobs. Most of all the loneliness made me angry -- the fact that all those boys and men who needed and need understanding and love where left abandoned for so long...
And then I got angry for what happened to me. I yelled at the monster who took my innocence in the hospital at 10 years old and because of whom I have never been able to be intimate with anyone without the weight of guilt and shame and outrage. I wished the older man whom I trusted as a father and who raped me when I was drunk at his son's birthday party to Hell. He knew how hurt I already was -- how needy and vulnerable. But he didn't care. Putting his cock in me was more important to him than my soul. I got really angry at my parents -- at my asshole father who never cared about any of us really, but only about control and about how we made him look good or bad. He never even really saw me, except one time. I was furious at my mother for not seeing that I had changed when I came home from the hospital -- for not knowing something terrible had happened to me -- for not fucking looking because it would have been too painful for her. My mother loved me, but she was a coward. And finally I let myself get really angry at my wife whom, when I told her in tears what had happened to me said only, "I'm sorry. Now you know what it's like." Not even a single hug. She thought only about our relative suffering and decided she came out on top and thus I didn't need any pity. Somehow by having been raped I had threatened her. My wife was also a coward in the end, and chose bitterness and anger over hope and love. I finally was able to yell out that I was glad she was gone -- that I was finally free. It felt right. I didn't feel good, but it felt true. It was me.
And when I woke up this morning and the feelings of desolation began, I told myself, "No, you don't have to do that to yourself. You don't have to make yourself feel that way." And I thought of this place and of writing this here. And I told myself that it's OK if I'm a mess today -- if I fall apart a little and have to cry... It's my Truth. It's (part of) who I am.
So here I am. I will NOT hide anymore. I will NOT choke down my bitterness, anger and outrage in isolation. I WILL share the Hope and Love I have and find along the way. Those are much better promises to myself than the ones I made as a victim/child to NEVER let anyone in, to NEVER need anyone, to NEVER trust myself because I was dirty.
I want to write "I love you all" but I keep looking for a reason not to, as if I need a reason to feel love, as if love could be something to be ashamed of...
I love you all.