It Was Like Any Other Day

It Was Like Any Other Day

relaxingpiano

Registrant
What is written below isn't pretty. It is horrible but came out in my therapy session yesterday with Dr. Canali. Just when I think I've unearthed about everything there is to see, I strike another bone as I dig. And it makes me wonder just how much more is there while part of me says I don't give a damn. But I do know that as I find the courage to go deeper and to go into these things, the more I am reclaiming my life, my body and my soul. I don't know if I will ever fully understand all of this that was done to me but it is such a part of who I am and until I take back the power from it, it has power over me. Long ago, I knew there was one way to beat those that did these things to me and that was to bring myself out of paralysis and to heal myself. For as I heal, I'm winning over the evil doers.

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Here is what I wrote. Please know that it is graphic and may not be easy to read but I need to just share this and get it out.

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It Was A Day Like Any Other

Don Shetterly 5/9/06



It was a day like any other. My mom was off working at her full time day job as a secretary and well since my father worked nights or barely worked at all sometimes, he was home sleeping for part of the day. Somehow he managed to always be awake in time for us to get home or shortly after that and long before my mom got off work. Usually we would have a list of chores a mile long written in barely legible handwriting on a note waiting for us on the kitchen table when we got off the school bus. On some days there was no note.



One particular day we had no note of things to get accomplished. So as we went upstairs past his bedroom where he was supposedly sleeping to get to our bedroom and change out of our school clothes, he called from his room. We had thoughts of just doing some fun stuff outside for once but that was about to change. For we knew that when he called, we must answer and go into his room. My younger brother was the only one exempt from this because he was just too young at the time my father would declare. After all I was just turning 14 and my little brother was only 8 years old. My older brother had no choice because he was old enough for all of the activities my dad wanted to do with us. At least that was the declaration of my father.



And you know, instead of a boy being able to go outside and play, have fun, be a kid and enjoy life, he (I) was subjected to things that I had no business being introduced to. Instead of playing with a ball or ever owning a ball to play with, we were taught the adult things in life in a way that we would never forget.



But back to that particular day which was not unlike other days, there we were in my parents bedroom. The characters my father, my brother and me. The door was shut. My younger brother was somewhere in the house away from the nightmare that awaited me. I would say he was enjoying freedom but somehow I have a feeling he was in his own nightmare.



As I knew to do, I undressed and took all my clothes off as my brother and father did the same thing. It didnt have to be said as I had already been taught to do this part and if I did not willingly do this, the consequences were severe. I had experienced those before and witnessed what happened if you didnt obey God. Of course we were also taught at the time that to not obey your parents meant you were being sinful and God would punish you for that. It probably doesnt need to be said that even though we were afraid of being punished by my father, we were much more fearful of how God might punish us and we didnt want to be known as not loving our parents because that was a very bad thing to do.



As my father watched my naked body which he often loved to sit at my bedroom door and do, I crawled on to the bed. Even though I didnt want to endure what was about to come, I had no way to stop it. I was powerless against his force, his weight and his demands. I was just a little kid. A 14 year kid. And on top of all of this, I had my older brother to help hold me down. There was absolutely no way for me to escape that which was to come.



Laying there on the bed, trying to not think about what was to happen or was happening, trying to just find a way to escape trying so hard to not feel anything that my body was going through just wanting to be gone, to die, to not exist I felt the thrusts. I felt the pain of my brother holding my shoulders down with the weight of his knees from his fat ass body. I wanted to scream but I couldnt for if I did, that would only bring more consequences. I wanted to flee but I couldnt move. And with each moment, I felt the thrusts jamming my body into my brothers knees that were painfully etched in my skinny little shoulders. And I could hear my father demanding that my older brother hold me down and that I dont dare yell, dont dare scream to take it like a man. The only fucking thing was, I wasnt a man. I was a little 14 year boy.



Thrust after thrust after thrust. I butt hurt in excruciating pain. It felt as if everything jammed up into my rib cage and breathing was almost as difficult as living. But what could I do. I could pray to this God that only commands that I obey my parents, to save me from this. I could try and kill myself but how, when, where I didnt have the strength or the courage? I could wish that somehow I would die and not wake up to face another day. There was no god damn way to escape this. There was no way to understand this. There was no way to even believe this was happening except, except for the pain.



And as my father finished, he would demand my older brother take his turn and the saga would continue. It seemed like an eternity of endurance for me and I have no idea how long it would continue but it always stopped in time for us to be finished before my mom would get home. We could then be outside working and doing things so no one would notice anything had happened. We of course we a happy loving family demanded by God to obey our parents and to love them. We were a happy loving family. We were a family of secrets, lies, deceits and horrors that only few were privileged to know.



I still have a hard time accepting any of this that happened to me. The horror of it still faces me on a daily basis. I was on the table at Dr. Canalis office and this had been coming up for me but it just had been too difficult to even comprehend. I sit her wondering just how anyone could do what was done to me. How could you do this?



And on the table I wanted to kick my father away so bad. I wanted to shred my body apart and rid it of all pain. I wanted to kill him, to make him hurt, to make him suffer like he made me.



The magic thing that happened was that as I said I wanted to kick him, I felt a part of me come back to my body. I felt power come into my body and realized it was mine. I did feel the horror of what had happened but once again, I saw a whole little 14 year old boy that has a lot to offer. And through the pain I now face, I know as I go into it with courage and stand up against the fear, that the fear is more afraid of dying than I am of living. I know that the more I reclaim myself, my body, my mind, my spirit that the more I will be whole and I will have conquered evil and I will have won against my father.



But to get there sometimes is about as hard as running a million mile sprint. And yet, it is a journey I must go on because I no longer wish for these fears and horrors to be my king. I desire to get to know that which is inside of me and that which is pure, wholesome, loving, kind and beautiful
 
Don,

So sorry the memories that return to you are these. As one kid to another, we deserved more.
 
Don,

You have started a difficult journey. The process is a difficult. Use your friends and resources to get through this. Do not pull away or isolate yourself and do not fall into using false crutchs to make this go away. The only way you will get through it is to see it and deal with it directly.
 
Thanks guys for your comments and support. I'm continuing through this process and I've already been through a lot of healing, but I've got a good support system in place. The best part of the somatic therapy is that it helps me release so much of the stuff held deep within me and so I'm able to move through this a little quicker than I used to be. The doctor that does the somatic therapy is very good at coaching me through these things and encouraging me, reminding me of the power I now have.

It isn't easy...but to be honest, I'm glad I'm finally getting this part out. I've been feeling it for quite some time.

Don
 
Don,

It took a lot of courage to post that, and I'm glad you did. As you yourself realize, none of this could have been your fault. We are so often tempted later in life to ask ourselves why didn't I run, why didn't I tell anyone, and so on. But you have the answer already. You were only a kid.

We need to remember that a child who doesn't SEE any options in fact doesn't have them in the first place.

Much love,
Larry
 
take it like a man ,yes heard that one too many times ,but it wasnt a man taking it it was just a boy . adam
 
Don - that's a very brave post to make! I thank you for having the courage to do so!

Rik
 
This must be the day for misty eyes. Thanks Don, for sharing. Very brave indeed. I hear you, weep for you, and believe every word.

Lots of love,

John
 
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