i survived a serial killer
victor-victim
Registrant
TRIGGER WARNING..
Survival!
by Victim/Survivor
i survived Clifford Olson
i try to treat my experience as if i was simply the victim of a random tragedy as befalls every soul on this planet no worse than a car accident or heart attack i keep telling myself but emotions refuse to be ruled by reason my rape (i hate that word) was a sudden thing the person who did it was my employer i was a 16 year old 'tough guy' looking for work in the 1970's the government had a 'youth employment' program that sent me to this guy on a promise of $5.00 per hour for landscaping labour he hired several of us skinny kids while turning away what i thought to be stronger more suitable workers this in itself was odd but for 5$/hour none of us complained to make a long story short this self professed ex-convict born-again christian managed to rape a significant percentage of the boys the government had sent him he did this by first singling out a person for special duties which involved picking up supplies etc. and slowly gaining the confidence and respect of each individual by bragging about how bad he was and how he used to a criminal but now he was making big money because of jesus but he was still a mean mother#####er and "look how much cash i got... here... take a fifty... g
o buy yourself some good workboots" etc and so on... befriending the boy until the "hey lemme buy ya a beer after work" trap is set. this bastard got me alone in a motel room where i foolishly went with him because (this is embarassing) after a couple drinks he got me to admit i was a virgin and he told me that he would "get me laid" and that he had some "girls on the way" meanwhile we smoked pot and drank beer yes i was a bad boy but i did not deserve what happened to me next without a moment's warning he transformed into a completely evil person as if a mask just fell away from his face his eyes were cold and fierce and i simply had no choice but to believe him when he calmly explained what he was going to do to me because "that's what we do to guys like you in the joint" and that if i resisted i would be killed because "i killed guys before and i'll kill you" and i had no choice but to submit passively to sodomy twice i managed to cope with it immediately by detaching my soul from my self and i felt nothing but the physical pain and a sort of vague wonder "i wonder if i am gay" "i wonder if we are boyfriends now" ridiculous? hardly under the circumstances and considering my level of maturity (which i had grossly overestimated) at the time i thought i was a man and now i had lost that sense of masculine identity i was most of all confused and ashamed about the fact that i had so easily surrendered this was a moment i am trapped inside forever flashbacks i don't experience them as flashbacks so to speak for me they are more like tapeloops which i run through on a regular almost daily basis they are the same show everytime but what changes with each viewing is the perspective (camera angle) and the impact it has on my life at the time somedays i can view the tapeloop and feel nothing somedays i cannot see the faces somedays i am the rapist somedays i am the victim somedays i feel as if it really is a movie and the persons i see are no one i know there is no erase or delete button it is only a memory yes my wife knows everything but she really cannot possibly understand, having never experienced anything remotely similar all she can do is live through my ups and downs she is my anchor sex is of course difficult at times i feel the need to re-enact my rape through sex both as victim and as perpetrator did i say need? it's actually more like an urge or compulsion therapy has helped me to understand the subconcious reasons behind it but that has not helped me to control the desire, only the action that is really the only issue for me i have become addicted to aggressive sexual behaviour which can be innappropriate if taken too far i was once in a relationship with another sa victim and we allowed ourselves to indulge in this behaviour until it became so ordinary that it failed to excite anymore and we kept getting deeper into the roles of submission and dominance to the point where we had to quit each other to maintain our sanity i found that i could play either role to the maximum and i found some sort of spiritual release either way it all stems from my need for power which of course is rooted in my feelings of powerlessness there is a warped child bent on revenge buried deep with my soul i try to nurture this child as best as i can to heal his heart being a child, he is capable of extremely selfish and impulsive and irrational mistakes you know the story just another #####ed up SexualAbuse survivor i think sexual abuse is like a contagious virus that passes from person to person and from generation to generation it mutates, evolves and adapts as it encounters and corrupts each new innocent soul we survivors are faced with the difficult task of accepting it and making it our own personal virus before we can conquer it and control it with our psychic antibodies this is what i have tried to do i have tried denial and all the other useless psychological defense mechanisms and none of them work sa abuse can only be examined in full light before it begins to lose it's hold on our souls i am not in jail i live a pretty charmed life right now so i don't have a lot of regrets i work hard at a job i love and i seem to always have just enough $$ to survive i have a beautiful child and an excellent wife all that happened made me what i am today the ##### who raped me is in jail for the rest of his life he was arrested and convicted of 11 murders of children some as young as 6 i was right to fear him i wish he was dead i hate sharing the same planet i hate sharing the same species one of my biggest fears is that i might die before himi still don't hate him i consider this guy so far removed from human, so alien, that i simply cannot feel anything except fear and respect in the same way one fears and respects the danger of a wild animal or fear and respect the impersonal killing force of a high voltage wire he is a predator definitely not following the same rules as we do how can you hate something like that it should simply be destroyed and forgotten instead our society seems to glorify these creatures because they cannot understand their motives they invent complex and mysterious theories about their behaviour creating mythical superintelligent stereotypes (i.e.hannibal lector) there is nothing complex about it these creatures are superficial and simple and stupid crude and brutish the killers are totally aware of why they kill it feels good killing gives them the illusion of power and that gives them a thrill which becomes their drug they are addicted to feeling powerful because they are nothing inside they must seek external gratification because they have no soul they must destroy others' souls i never did finish my story eventually he picked on the wrong guy at the jobsite a buddy of mine who was a lot tougher than he looked he was even scrawnier than i was in the meantime i had simply gone back to work as if nothing had happened i was too worried about my reputation to reveal what had occurred and i was blaming myself (victim takes responsibilty for the rape to give himself a false sense of power... "I let him do it") when he started his routine with my buddy i was desperate to warn him but still too freaked out about what had happened ("what happened?" "did anything happen?" denial) so i kept my mouth shut that night my friend came to my house at 4 in the morning bleeding and angry he had fought with "the boss" and had escaped now he wanted revenge still without revealing my secret i agreed to help him we told his father who called a friend of his who was willing and capable of doing violence the three of us went to the motel room and would you believe that by the time we got there he already had another young boy in the room with him drinking beer i was so caught up in this melodramatic soap opera movie that i felt absolutely nothing i was no more than a function performing a role it was all very weird i never laid a hand on the guy the third person in our vigilante group needed no help or encouragement and went about his task of beating the rapist with a wooden club when it hit his head i was sickened by the sound about the only emotion i remember from that night my buddy who had been beaten earlier that night got a few hits in but i just stood there with my club in hand watching the show i wasn't angry at all... i was only numb the rapist was quick though and suddenly burst in between us driven by desperation, he bounced off the couch and dove right through the main window of the motel roomright through the glass it was extreme then he started screaming for someone to call the cops "help i'm being robbed" we all bolted and that was the last i heard or saw of him until he showed up the newspapers about five years later i was more upset about the murdered children than i was about my own rape i felt guilty about not hitting him i felt guilty about letting him get away i felt guilty about not killing him when i had the chance if i had done something more or something else maybe those kids would not have had to die like they did (and they died horribly) but eventually i had to relieve myself of the responsibility for this as well. it was not my fault, none of it. i was a kid i made mistakes.
Never Forget! Never Forgive!
Survival!
by Victim/Survivor
i survived Clifford Olson
i try to treat my experience as if i was simply the victim of a random tragedy as befalls every soul on this planet no worse than a car accident or heart attack i keep telling myself but emotions refuse to be ruled by reason my rape (i hate that word) was a sudden thing the person who did it was my employer i was a 16 year old 'tough guy' looking for work in the 1970's the government had a 'youth employment' program that sent me to this guy on a promise of $5.00 per hour for landscaping labour he hired several of us skinny kids while turning away what i thought to be stronger more suitable workers this in itself was odd but for 5$/hour none of us complained to make a long story short this self professed ex-convict born-again christian managed to rape a significant percentage of the boys the government had sent him he did this by first singling out a person for special duties which involved picking up supplies etc. and slowly gaining the confidence and respect of each individual by bragging about how bad he was and how he used to a criminal but now he was making big money because of jesus but he was still a mean mother#####er and "look how much cash i got... here... take a fifty... g
o buy yourself some good workboots" etc and so on... befriending the boy until the "hey lemme buy ya a beer after work" trap is set. this bastard got me alone in a motel room where i foolishly went with him because (this is embarassing) after a couple drinks he got me to admit i was a virgin and he told me that he would "get me laid" and that he had some "girls on the way" meanwhile we smoked pot and drank beer yes i was a bad boy but i did not deserve what happened to me next without a moment's warning he transformed into a completely evil person as if a mask just fell away from his face his eyes were cold and fierce and i simply had no choice but to believe him when he calmly explained what he was going to do to me because "that's what we do to guys like you in the joint" and that if i resisted i would be killed because "i killed guys before and i'll kill you" and i had no choice but to submit passively to sodomy twice i managed to cope with it immediately by detaching my soul from my self and i felt nothing but the physical pain and a sort of vague wonder "i wonder if i am gay" "i wonder if we are boyfriends now" ridiculous? hardly under the circumstances and considering my level of maturity (which i had grossly overestimated) at the time i thought i was a man and now i had lost that sense of masculine identity i was most of all confused and ashamed about the fact that i had so easily surrendered this was a moment i am trapped inside forever flashbacks i don't experience them as flashbacks so to speak for me they are more like tapeloops which i run through on a regular almost daily basis they are the same show everytime but what changes with each viewing is the perspective (camera angle) and the impact it has on my life at the time somedays i can view the tapeloop and feel nothing somedays i cannot see the faces somedays i am the rapist somedays i am the victim somedays i feel as if it really is a movie and the persons i see are no one i know there is no erase or delete button it is only a memory yes my wife knows everything but she really cannot possibly understand, having never experienced anything remotely similar all she can do is live through my ups and downs she is my anchor sex is of course difficult at times i feel the need to re-enact my rape through sex both as victim and as perpetrator did i say need? it's actually more like an urge or compulsion therapy has helped me to understand the subconcious reasons behind it but that has not helped me to control the desire, only the action that is really the only issue for me i have become addicted to aggressive sexual behaviour which can be innappropriate if taken too far i was once in a relationship with another sa victim and we allowed ourselves to indulge in this behaviour until it became so ordinary that it failed to excite anymore and we kept getting deeper into the roles of submission and dominance to the point where we had to quit each other to maintain our sanity i found that i could play either role to the maximum and i found some sort of spiritual release either way it all stems from my need for power which of course is rooted in my feelings of powerlessness there is a warped child bent on revenge buried deep with my soul i try to nurture this child as best as i can to heal his heart being a child, he is capable of extremely selfish and impulsive and irrational mistakes you know the story just another #####ed up SexualAbuse survivor i think sexual abuse is like a contagious virus that passes from person to person and from generation to generation it mutates, evolves and adapts as it encounters and corrupts each new innocent soul we survivors are faced with the difficult task of accepting it and making it our own personal virus before we can conquer it and control it with our psychic antibodies this is what i have tried to do i have tried denial and all the other useless psychological defense mechanisms and none of them work sa abuse can only be examined in full light before it begins to lose it's hold on our souls i am not in jail i live a pretty charmed life right now so i don't have a lot of regrets i work hard at a job i love and i seem to always have just enough $$ to survive i have a beautiful child and an excellent wife all that happened made me what i am today the ##### who raped me is in jail for the rest of his life he was arrested and convicted of 11 murders of children some as young as 6 i was right to fear him i wish he was dead i hate sharing the same planet i hate sharing the same species one of my biggest fears is that i might die before himi still don't hate him i consider this guy so far removed from human, so alien, that i simply cannot feel anything except fear and respect in the same way one fears and respects the danger of a wild animal or fear and respect the impersonal killing force of a high voltage wire he is a predator definitely not following the same rules as we do how can you hate something like that it should simply be destroyed and forgotten instead our society seems to glorify these creatures because they cannot understand their motives they invent complex and mysterious theories about their behaviour creating mythical superintelligent stereotypes (i.e.hannibal lector) there is nothing complex about it these creatures are superficial and simple and stupid crude and brutish the killers are totally aware of why they kill it feels good killing gives them the illusion of power and that gives them a thrill which becomes their drug they are addicted to feeling powerful because they are nothing inside they must seek external gratification because they have no soul they must destroy others' souls i never did finish my story eventually he picked on the wrong guy at the jobsite a buddy of mine who was a lot tougher than he looked he was even scrawnier than i was in the meantime i had simply gone back to work as if nothing had happened i was too worried about my reputation to reveal what had occurred and i was blaming myself (victim takes responsibilty for the rape to give himself a false sense of power... "I let him do it") when he started his routine with my buddy i was desperate to warn him but still too freaked out about what had happened ("what happened?" "did anything happen?" denial) so i kept my mouth shut that night my friend came to my house at 4 in the morning bleeding and angry he had fought with "the boss" and had escaped now he wanted revenge still without revealing my secret i agreed to help him we told his father who called a friend of his who was willing and capable of doing violence the three of us went to the motel room and would you believe that by the time we got there he already had another young boy in the room with him drinking beer i was so caught up in this melodramatic soap opera movie that i felt absolutely nothing i was no more than a function performing a role it was all very weird i never laid a hand on the guy the third person in our vigilante group needed no help or encouragement and went about his task of beating the rapist with a wooden club when it hit his head i was sickened by the sound about the only emotion i remember from that night my buddy who had been beaten earlier that night got a few hits in but i just stood there with my club in hand watching the show i wasn't angry at all... i was only numb the rapist was quick though and suddenly burst in between us driven by desperation, he bounced off the couch and dove right through the main window of the motel roomright through the glass it was extreme then he started screaming for someone to call the cops "help i'm being robbed" we all bolted and that was the last i heard or saw of him until he showed up the newspapers about five years later i was more upset about the murdered children than i was about my own rape i felt guilty about not hitting him i felt guilty about letting him get away i felt guilty about not killing him when i had the chance if i had done something more or something else maybe those kids would not have had to die like they did (and they died horribly) but eventually i had to relieve myself of the responsibility for this as well. it was not my fault, none of it. i was a kid i made mistakes.
Never Forget! Never Forgive!