My history, *TRIGGERING*...
This is a very *TRIGGERING* Post, and I do not mean to upset others with it. I am merely trying to express the history and feelings of what has happened to me as a person.
Please, if you are sensitive to the sharing of rape and sexual abuse, do not read further. I do not wish to harm another's feelings.
I was born with a condition called 'Hypospadia'. In simple terms, it means that the opening of my urethra was on the side of my penis, instead of the tip.
It took two surgeries (when I was a very young child), to 'Correct' the problem. The end result was that half of my pene was removed, and the scars from the surgeries left me deformed. (Funny how the Surgeons felt that 'One' deformation deserved another?!?).
I was constantly reminded of my 'Difference' while attending Grade/High School, during Gym (showers, et al). I was constantly told as a youngling that I was weak and worthless (by my Stepfather(s). My Paternal Father was an abusive drunk, whom my Mother (bless her), left after my younger Sister was born).
We moved around a lot, which meant that I was never really able to make Friends with all the new/different people that I met. That remains true to this day.
When I was nine years old, a 'Friend' that I met at church (he was one of the Paster's multiple Sons), talked me into bringing my younger Sister (age 7 at this time), with me during one of our many adventures into the desert (We lived in Arizona at that time).
During this 'Adventure', he attempted to rape my Sister. All that I knew at the time was that she arrived with him (he had talked me into splitting up with them), crying her eyes out, and she wouldn't tell me anything, which was extremely distressing since we always shared our thoughts/emotions with one another.
After this episode, I kept badgering him about what happened to distress her so. After some days, he finally got fed-up with my inquiries, and told me, "You want to know what we did!? Fine! I'll show you!" He had me pull down my pants and underwear, and 'Stand' on all fours. Like I said earlier, I hate myself for trusting this SOB enough to even go that far. He proceeded to rape me, and after he was done, he used a small towel to wipe himself off, then threw it on me, telling me to clean myself up.
I was horribly confused, and ashamed. He told me that if I told anyone, he would say that 'I' was the one that wanted it, and that I was a faggot if I told.
I was torn between the feelings of what had happened to me, and what had 'almost' happened to my beloved younger Sister. I dared not tell anyone, for fear of what others/they might think of me.
Fast forward eleven/twelve years.
I was 18 when I signed-up for the Marines. After a lifetime of physical/emotional abuse and degredation by others, I was intent on 'Proving' that I was, indeed, a 'Man'.
I succeeded in becoming a Marine.
After my Basic Training and MOS, I returned home, happy and proud that I had succeeded in doing what I had set out to do.
I frequented a local bar/pub during my off-hours (as a Civilian working a regular job, I was a Reservist at this time), and enjoyed being able to legally drink.
I was invited to join a group of three other guys playing pool. After a few rounds, after talking 'guy-stuff', I was invited to attend a private party (that didn't legally have to end at 0200, which CA law demanded). All of my instincts told me to say 'No', but I had consumed too many beers to be of sound judgement, and like a Fool, agreed.
I was too drunk to drive, and 'He' (the one guy/leader of the trio), said we could just take his truck.
Before getting into his vehicle, he popped the tool caddy, and after a few moments, offered me another beer to drink on the way. I didn't suspect anything, and accepted.
I don't know to this day where the hell we went. I was not familiar with the area at that time. What I do (now) remember was, after drinking this beer, feeling very dizzy and wobbly, like I had drunk far more than I had.
It was foggy, and when we turned onto a side road, the only light was at the entrance to a barn.
He got out first, and went into the 'door' on the side. I followed, wondering why in the hell I felt so weird (stumbling and finding it hard to focus my eyes).
When I arrived, then entered the door, it was pitch black inside. As the light was turned-on by 'Him', I got a flash glimpse of the 'room' inside (sheetrock walls, camera equipment, paved floor), and sensed a presence behind me (hiding behind the door). As I turned to see who it was, I was attacked, and though I had been trained in self-defense, could not protect myself from them. I was choked to unconsciousness.
When I 'awoke', I was naked, lying on my stomach, on something covered by plastic, arms pulled/tied up above me, my legs tied-down and 'open', exposing my rear. I was blindfolded, and there was a large gag tied in my mouth. I was terrified, my heart beating in my ears, and I was shaking with the fear and cold.
They tortured me with some kind of electronic device (I suspect a 'Stun Gun' or something thereof), and took turns sexually assaulting me. I was kicked in the groin, leaving me horribly swollen and black and blue. I don't know how many hours this took. It seemed to take forever.
I won't go into the sordid details of everything that happened. I guess I've already said too much as it is.
At the end, I remember choking on the gag, and vomiting. I could not clear my throat, and passed-out...
I awoke in my own car, parked in front of my house, at the dawn of the new day. I was groggy, and could only sense that something horrible had happened. I made it into the house, and after undressing, went into the shower to clean myself up.
I was wounded internally from what had happened, and bled profusely for the two days that made up the rest of the weekend. When I tried going back to work on Monday, I was so weak from blood loss that when I raised my arms, I almost blacked-out.
I was hospitalized for a week, and underwent terrible tests/criticisms by the Dr's that treated me. (though not a damn ONE of them offered the chance that I had, indeed, been raped, and might need the support of any rape victim!).
I was so humiliated and shamed by my inability (foolishness!), to protect myself, and in mortal fear that, should I try to seek legal/lawful action, my Unit would find out, I did not press the issue(s) with the Dr.'s/Police...
I don't know how such things work, but my earlier abuse, and the latest one were shoved deep down into my mind, beyond my ability to realize them.
I lived for many years ignorant of the fact that such things had happened to me.
In November of '01, the memories began to resurface. I thought I was going insane, not willing to believe/accept that such terrors could be true.
My work began to suffer. I could not concentrate on things, and could not recall important facts. I was suffering from the effects of PTSD, though I did not know what that was at the time. I would be in a meeting, and suddently have to exit, completely falling-apart and taking some time to compose myself before returning.
I began self injuring when the emotional/mental pain became too much for me to handle.
I began going to counseling/Group Therapy, hoping, praying, for some sort of relief. After 6 months, I wasn't feeling any better, and the feelings of suicide were foremost in my mind.
I volunteered to be hospitalized, and spent the next three weeks there. My SoulMate contacted my employer of 9 years the night I was hospitalized. After my third day there, I contacted my employer to tell him where I was and the prognosis of my returning to work.
I was told that I was fired.
My medical coverage ran out that month, and I was forced to turn to 'County' (free) aid in my area, with terrible results.
My SoulMate has been in bad health for many years now. We have always managed to hold things together while I was working, making good money. We have an extended Family with the various critters we have saved/adopted over the years.
Now, I live mostly on her SS/SSI, and can only provide minimal help with the meager food stamps that I am 'graciously' given by the State.
I cannot sleep at night, despite three years of medication by so many different Dr.'s that I can't begin to name them all.
I continue to relive the terrible things that happened to me.
I have tried, honestly and valiantly, to follow the 'Correct' Path, seeking medical aid.
My Theological quest has been sorely deficient to my pain.
I have here beside me a blade, who's edge is sharp. I often hold it, turning it into the light, admiring it's keen edge.
I self-injure to shove the emotional/mental pain BACK, BACK until the physical pain is more, hoping to nullify the other.
How pathetic is this?
In Truth, I am further shamed to even admit such weakness' in a Forum of people that have found the courage and strength to overcome their own pain.
I don't know, anymore.
I don't know...
Whicker, aka Colte
Please, if you are sensitive to the sharing of rape and sexual abuse, do not read further. I do not wish to harm another's feelings.
I was born with a condition called 'Hypospadia'. In simple terms, it means that the opening of my urethra was on the side of my penis, instead of the tip.
It took two surgeries (when I was a very young child), to 'Correct' the problem. The end result was that half of my pene was removed, and the scars from the surgeries left me deformed. (Funny how the Surgeons felt that 'One' deformation deserved another?!?).
I was constantly reminded of my 'Difference' while attending Grade/High School, during Gym (showers, et al). I was constantly told as a youngling that I was weak and worthless (by my Stepfather(s). My Paternal Father was an abusive drunk, whom my Mother (bless her), left after my younger Sister was born).
We moved around a lot, which meant that I was never really able to make Friends with all the new/different people that I met. That remains true to this day.
When I was nine years old, a 'Friend' that I met at church (he was one of the Paster's multiple Sons), talked me into bringing my younger Sister (age 7 at this time), with me during one of our many adventures into the desert (We lived in Arizona at that time).
During this 'Adventure', he attempted to rape my Sister. All that I knew at the time was that she arrived with him (he had talked me into splitting up with them), crying her eyes out, and she wouldn't tell me anything, which was extremely distressing since we always shared our thoughts/emotions with one another.
After this episode, I kept badgering him about what happened to distress her so. After some days, he finally got fed-up with my inquiries, and told me, "You want to know what we did!? Fine! I'll show you!" He had me pull down my pants and underwear, and 'Stand' on all fours. Like I said earlier, I hate myself for trusting this SOB enough to even go that far. He proceeded to rape me, and after he was done, he used a small towel to wipe himself off, then threw it on me, telling me to clean myself up.
I was horribly confused, and ashamed. He told me that if I told anyone, he would say that 'I' was the one that wanted it, and that I was a faggot if I told.
I was torn between the feelings of what had happened to me, and what had 'almost' happened to my beloved younger Sister. I dared not tell anyone, for fear of what others/they might think of me.
Fast forward eleven/twelve years.
I was 18 when I signed-up for the Marines. After a lifetime of physical/emotional abuse and degredation by others, I was intent on 'Proving' that I was, indeed, a 'Man'.
I succeeded in becoming a Marine.
After my Basic Training and MOS, I returned home, happy and proud that I had succeeded in doing what I had set out to do.
I frequented a local bar/pub during my off-hours (as a Civilian working a regular job, I was a Reservist at this time), and enjoyed being able to legally drink.
I was invited to join a group of three other guys playing pool. After a few rounds, after talking 'guy-stuff', I was invited to attend a private party (that didn't legally have to end at 0200, which CA law demanded). All of my instincts told me to say 'No', but I had consumed too many beers to be of sound judgement, and like a Fool, agreed.
I was too drunk to drive, and 'He' (the one guy/leader of the trio), said we could just take his truck.
Before getting into his vehicle, he popped the tool caddy, and after a few moments, offered me another beer to drink on the way. I didn't suspect anything, and accepted.
I don't know to this day where the hell we went. I was not familiar with the area at that time. What I do (now) remember was, after drinking this beer, feeling very dizzy and wobbly, like I had drunk far more than I had.
It was foggy, and when we turned onto a side road, the only light was at the entrance to a barn.
He got out first, and went into the 'door' on the side. I followed, wondering why in the hell I felt so weird (stumbling and finding it hard to focus my eyes).
When I arrived, then entered the door, it was pitch black inside. As the light was turned-on by 'Him', I got a flash glimpse of the 'room' inside (sheetrock walls, camera equipment, paved floor), and sensed a presence behind me (hiding behind the door). As I turned to see who it was, I was attacked, and though I had been trained in self-defense, could not protect myself from them. I was choked to unconsciousness.
When I 'awoke', I was naked, lying on my stomach, on something covered by plastic, arms pulled/tied up above me, my legs tied-down and 'open', exposing my rear. I was blindfolded, and there was a large gag tied in my mouth. I was terrified, my heart beating in my ears, and I was shaking with the fear and cold.
They tortured me with some kind of electronic device (I suspect a 'Stun Gun' or something thereof), and took turns sexually assaulting me. I was kicked in the groin, leaving me horribly swollen and black and blue. I don't know how many hours this took. It seemed to take forever.
I won't go into the sordid details of everything that happened. I guess I've already said too much as it is.
At the end, I remember choking on the gag, and vomiting. I could not clear my throat, and passed-out...
I awoke in my own car, parked in front of my house, at the dawn of the new day. I was groggy, and could only sense that something horrible had happened. I made it into the house, and after undressing, went into the shower to clean myself up.
I was wounded internally from what had happened, and bled profusely for the two days that made up the rest of the weekend. When I tried going back to work on Monday, I was so weak from blood loss that when I raised my arms, I almost blacked-out.
I was hospitalized for a week, and underwent terrible tests/criticisms by the Dr's that treated me. (though not a damn ONE of them offered the chance that I had, indeed, been raped, and might need the support of any rape victim!).
I was so humiliated and shamed by my inability (foolishness!), to protect myself, and in mortal fear that, should I try to seek legal/lawful action, my Unit would find out, I did not press the issue(s) with the Dr.'s/Police...
I don't know how such things work, but my earlier abuse, and the latest one were shoved deep down into my mind, beyond my ability to realize them.
I lived for many years ignorant of the fact that such things had happened to me.
In November of '01, the memories began to resurface. I thought I was going insane, not willing to believe/accept that such terrors could be true.
My work began to suffer. I could not concentrate on things, and could not recall important facts. I was suffering from the effects of PTSD, though I did not know what that was at the time. I would be in a meeting, and suddently have to exit, completely falling-apart and taking some time to compose myself before returning.
I began self injuring when the emotional/mental pain became too much for me to handle.
I began going to counseling/Group Therapy, hoping, praying, for some sort of relief. After 6 months, I wasn't feeling any better, and the feelings of suicide were foremost in my mind.
I volunteered to be hospitalized, and spent the next three weeks there. My SoulMate contacted my employer of 9 years the night I was hospitalized. After my third day there, I contacted my employer to tell him where I was and the prognosis of my returning to work.
I was told that I was fired.
My medical coverage ran out that month, and I was forced to turn to 'County' (free) aid in my area, with terrible results.
My SoulMate has been in bad health for many years now. We have always managed to hold things together while I was working, making good money. We have an extended Family with the various critters we have saved/adopted over the years.
Now, I live mostly on her SS/SSI, and can only provide minimal help with the meager food stamps that I am 'graciously' given by the State.
I cannot sleep at night, despite three years of medication by so many different Dr.'s that I can't begin to name them all.
I continue to relive the terrible things that happened to me.
I have tried, honestly and valiantly, to follow the 'Correct' Path, seeking medical aid.
My Theological quest has been sorely deficient to my pain.
I have here beside me a blade, who's edge is sharp. I often hold it, turning it into the light, admiring it's keen edge.
I self-injure to shove the emotional/mental pain BACK, BACK until the physical pain is more, hoping to nullify the other.
How pathetic is this?
In Truth, I am further shamed to even admit such weakness' in a Forum of people that have found the courage and strength to overcome their own pain.
I don't know, anymore.
I don't know...
Whicker, aka Colte
