*Triggers Possible* My story as I understand it today
the-part-that-stayed
Registrant
I'm Matt and this is my story. I hope it's okay that I post this here. I don't like the idea of my story being behind a glass pane without comment. No offense to anyone who prefers that, I just seem to be craving witness and validation. I've written it and rewritten it. I'm just going to post everything except the placeholders. I'm also including the part I already posted in introductions, so apologies to anyone who reads it twice. I can't keep waiting for perfection, so here goes.
Just a few months ago I began recalling early childhood trauma which I had suspected on some level, but also had totally forgotten about in my conscious mind. Slowly my brain has been releasing memories of the abuse. I've come to understand I was groomed and abused alongside my younger female cousin by our grandfather. It's been very difficult but I have the support of my husband who is also a survivor so it helps knowing he understands. I'm also seeing a therapist, which has been helpful so far but still feels a little bit like I'm just paying to vent. I keep going anyways. Eventually I'll shut up long enough for her to offer any insights.
Sometimes it's still difficult to accept that it actually happened but I have enough memories to remind me it's true. Sometimes I want more memories. I want to know every detail. Other times I'm grateful for the fog. My mind has been pacing me and that's probably for the best.
Also it has been difficult to understand that what he did to me wasn't love or care because he disguised it well. Or well enough to confuse my young mind anyways. I still have both fond memories of him as well as anger and disgust and contempt for what he actually did to me and how he gaslighted me about it.
I wanted to provide the gentle intro before actually going into the details. I won't get into every aspect as it becomes an overwhelming task to cover everything but I want to at least share my story as best as I understand it now.
At 4.5 years old my grandfather sexually abused me when I briefly stayed with my grandparents. I was on the toilet with the door open and I asked him for a wipe. He grumbled asking me if I hadn't learned to do that myself yet. He told me to stand up and he wiped me once, and then I felt a tingling sensation in my penis. I tried pushing his hand away and he gave me that coaxing tone people use with frightened dogs. We moved to the bed at some point and he did it some more as I stared at the ceiling.
Then I remember the feeling of something cold and clinical in my rectum. I don't know what he used exactly but he lifted my legs together while I was on my back. Shortly after that happened I moved to a new house with my family and I recall having bad constipation sitting in the new bathroom.
After a few years we ended up moving back and at age 7 I stayed with him again. He gave me some beer while he worked on my bicycle in the shed. He kinda tapped my chest as if he was reassuring me the beer was good and I could handle it. He said it tastes better after a few sips. He was right, it did a little bit. Then he brushed against my penis with the back of his hand against my sweatpants, like he was testing me to see if he could get away with it. I remember him coaxing me and using that tone again. Assuring me it's fine and "see that means you like it".
I remember one night sleeping in the guest bedroom and having what could be described as a panic attack. He came in to tuck me in and as he began to rub my chest over the blankets he slipped down further like he was just a little careless or inaccurate. His big hand brushed over my crotch several times. I squirmed a bit and he used that coaxing reassuring tone. Next thing I remember is waking up to the walls breathing. My mind panicked or something and I ran out of the house and across the street to my aunt's house.
I entered the house through the open garage door. I don't remember what I said but I remember her speaking over me and hushing me. She called my grandfather while peeking through the blinds waiting for him to turn on the outside light before sending me back. I don't remember what happened after I returned that night. Perhaps he was upset, perhaps he was calm. I don't remember him ever being violent. I recall it being like a special friendship at the time. Someone who let me get away with things my parents wouldn't allow. But he said that some things would get us both in trouble if anyone found out. They would get the wrong idea. "You know how your mother gets. She would just be devastated if she knew." These 2 sentences are seared in my mind. I don't remember where or when he said it, but I remember the words. The betrayal and loathsome gaslighting is infuriating as an adult. I don't really remember my opinion as a child, but there's evidence I began to distance myself from him. Or I tried to anyways.
Shortly after leaving his house and moving into the new house with my family I had issues with sleeping and I even stabbed my sister with a pencil, which was very out of character. She had been ignoring me and I guess I wanted to get her attention? I really don't know what I was thinking. It's actually kind of scary in retrospect. I not only stabbed her leg, I refused to acknowledge it! For decades I had brushed it off even if she spoke of it directly. I would say "that doesn't sound like something I would do" or "just barely". Kinda like joking it away, but also subconsciously burying it away just like the abuse.
The abuse went on for several years I think. most of it is still outside my active recall, but the most vivid memory came to me recently. I believe it was a rupture point for me. Like something changed inside me forever. I'd like to share that memory now.
I was 11 years old at the time. I was going to hook up the Nintendo in my grandparents bedroom with my younger female cousin. When I got up high enough to reach the TV mounted to the ceiling I saw familiar adult VHS tapes partially removed from the sleeves. The drapes were also partially drawn, which was unusual.
Looking back it's obvious that it was a set up, but I didn't see it at that point. I told my cousin and we of course ended up watching them together. Without any disruptions we ended up getting naked and doing things we saw on the TV. Then Grandpa came into the room. We thought we were going to both be in big trouble. To our surprise grandpa wasn't mad. He just kinda acknowledged it but seemed indifferent and uninterested. He seemed to be busy nearby but not involved other than saying something like "you really think you can do that one?" Pointing at the TV screen with the adults doing various adult things. Then the flashback picks up the following moment in such clarity it was like a photo or something.
We were both naked on his bed. Grandpa was behind her near the closet. I saw her look at me as I looked at her and we both shrugged. Grandpa was pretending to fold clothes in the closet. I looked at the TV again and saw the figures doing another position. As I look back I see Grandpa standing at the foot of the bed watching us with his shirt partially untucked.
My conscious adult mind rejected the memory at that point and it ended. I think this moment is when in my young mind I realized that he was grooming her in the same way he had me. Whatever my mind thought, it became a pivotal moment in my psyche. Like an overload on my system. I couldn't shut it off. The shame and secrecy and loathing all began to pile up and compound everything. Perhaps this is when it began to become buried. I don't really know what happened inside me, but I was never the same after.
It was just a month or so later I got fall down drunk for the first time. I was a scrawny kid and I drank like a sailor. I got so sick I thought I might die. It was the beginning of self medicating with reckless abandon.
At various times I abused every drug I could find or anything that would keep the endless sorrow at bay. Without substances I was suffering what I now understand were probably emotional flashbacks. Sudden bouts of sorrow mostly. But that deep endless ocean of sorrow that just opens up and swallows you if you don't stop it.
Fast forward to me at 42 years old. I'm in a committed relationship with someone I love and who loves me. We have a dingo and a cute little house. We have jobs that are good enough and stable. And if you asked me at 41 what my thoughts about grandpa are I would have said he was nice, or maybe I was his favorite or, he bought me gifts. Grandma treated me like royalty. I would not have even considered the truth as it has now been revealed. It's almost unbelievable still. I have so much more to say but this is long enough I think.
Just a few months ago I began recalling early childhood trauma which I had suspected on some level, but also had totally forgotten about in my conscious mind. Slowly my brain has been releasing memories of the abuse. I've come to understand I was groomed and abused alongside my younger female cousin by our grandfather. It's been very difficult but I have the support of my husband who is also a survivor so it helps knowing he understands. I'm also seeing a therapist, which has been helpful so far but still feels a little bit like I'm just paying to vent. I keep going anyways. Eventually I'll shut up long enough for her to offer any insights.
Sometimes it's still difficult to accept that it actually happened but I have enough memories to remind me it's true. Sometimes I want more memories. I want to know every detail. Other times I'm grateful for the fog. My mind has been pacing me and that's probably for the best.
Also it has been difficult to understand that what he did to me wasn't love or care because he disguised it well. Or well enough to confuse my young mind anyways. I still have both fond memories of him as well as anger and disgust and contempt for what he actually did to me and how he gaslighted me about it.
I wanted to provide the gentle intro before actually going into the details. I won't get into every aspect as it becomes an overwhelming task to cover everything but I want to at least share my story as best as I understand it now.
At 4.5 years old my grandfather sexually abused me when I briefly stayed with my grandparents. I was on the toilet with the door open and I asked him for a wipe. He grumbled asking me if I hadn't learned to do that myself yet. He told me to stand up and he wiped me once, and then I felt a tingling sensation in my penis. I tried pushing his hand away and he gave me that coaxing tone people use with frightened dogs. We moved to the bed at some point and he did it some more as I stared at the ceiling.
Then I remember the feeling of something cold and clinical in my rectum. I don't know what he used exactly but he lifted my legs together while I was on my back. Shortly after that happened I moved to a new house with my family and I recall having bad constipation sitting in the new bathroom.
After a few years we ended up moving back and at age 7 I stayed with him again. He gave me some beer while he worked on my bicycle in the shed. He kinda tapped my chest as if he was reassuring me the beer was good and I could handle it. He said it tastes better after a few sips. He was right, it did a little bit. Then he brushed against my penis with the back of his hand against my sweatpants, like he was testing me to see if he could get away with it. I remember him coaxing me and using that tone again. Assuring me it's fine and "see that means you like it".
I remember one night sleeping in the guest bedroom and having what could be described as a panic attack. He came in to tuck me in and as he began to rub my chest over the blankets he slipped down further like he was just a little careless or inaccurate. His big hand brushed over my crotch several times. I squirmed a bit and he used that coaxing reassuring tone. Next thing I remember is waking up to the walls breathing. My mind panicked or something and I ran out of the house and across the street to my aunt's house.
I entered the house through the open garage door. I don't remember what I said but I remember her speaking over me and hushing me. She called my grandfather while peeking through the blinds waiting for him to turn on the outside light before sending me back. I don't remember what happened after I returned that night. Perhaps he was upset, perhaps he was calm. I don't remember him ever being violent. I recall it being like a special friendship at the time. Someone who let me get away with things my parents wouldn't allow. But he said that some things would get us both in trouble if anyone found out. They would get the wrong idea. "You know how your mother gets. She would just be devastated if she knew." These 2 sentences are seared in my mind. I don't remember where or when he said it, but I remember the words. The betrayal and loathsome gaslighting is infuriating as an adult. I don't really remember my opinion as a child, but there's evidence I began to distance myself from him. Or I tried to anyways.
Shortly after leaving his house and moving into the new house with my family I had issues with sleeping and I even stabbed my sister with a pencil, which was very out of character. She had been ignoring me and I guess I wanted to get her attention? I really don't know what I was thinking. It's actually kind of scary in retrospect. I not only stabbed her leg, I refused to acknowledge it! For decades I had brushed it off even if she spoke of it directly. I would say "that doesn't sound like something I would do" or "just barely". Kinda like joking it away, but also subconsciously burying it away just like the abuse.
The abuse went on for several years I think. most of it is still outside my active recall, but the most vivid memory came to me recently. I believe it was a rupture point for me. Like something changed inside me forever. I'd like to share that memory now.
I was 11 years old at the time. I was going to hook up the Nintendo in my grandparents bedroom with my younger female cousin. When I got up high enough to reach the TV mounted to the ceiling I saw familiar adult VHS tapes partially removed from the sleeves. The drapes were also partially drawn, which was unusual.
Looking back it's obvious that it was a set up, but I didn't see it at that point. I told my cousin and we of course ended up watching them together. Without any disruptions we ended up getting naked and doing things we saw on the TV. Then Grandpa came into the room. We thought we were going to both be in big trouble. To our surprise grandpa wasn't mad. He just kinda acknowledged it but seemed indifferent and uninterested. He seemed to be busy nearby but not involved other than saying something like "you really think you can do that one?" Pointing at the TV screen with the adults doing various adult things. Then the flashback picks up the following moment in such clarity it was like a photo or something.
We were both naked on his bed. Grandpa was behind her near the closet. I saw her look at me as I looked at her and we both shrugged. Grandpa was pretending to fold clothes in the closet. I looked at the TV again and saw the figures doing another position. As I look back I see Grandpa standing at the foot of the bed watching us with his shirt partially untucked.
My conscious adult mind rejected the memory at that point and it ended. I think this moment is when in my young mind I realized that he was grooming her in the same way he had me. Whatever my mind thought, it became a pivotal moment in my psyche. Like an overload on my system. I couldn't shut it off. The shame and secrecy and loathing all began to pile up and compound everything. Perhaps this is when it began to become buried. I don't really know what happened inside me, but I was never the same after.
It was just a month or so later I got fall down drunk for the first time. I was a scrawny kid and I drank like a sailor. I got so sick I thought I might die. It was the beginning of self medicating with reckless abandon.
At various times I abused every drug I could find or anything that would keep the endless sorrow at bay. Without substances I was suffering what I now understand were probably emotional flashbacks. Sudden bouts of sorrow mostly. But that deep endless ocean of sorrow that just opens up and swallows you if you don't stop it.
Fast forward to me at 42 years old. I'm in a committed relationship with someone I love and who loves me. We have a dingo and a cute little house. We have jobs that are good enough and stable. And if you asked me at 41 what my thoughts about grandpa are I would have said he was nice, or maybe I was his favorite or, he bought me gifts. Grandma treated me like royalty. I would not have even considered the truth as it has now been revealed. It's almost unbelievable still. I have so much more to say but this is long enough I think.
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