My Story*
I have been dealing with this for over 30 years now. Exactly how many I'm not sure.
I was molested by my cousin starting when I was 7 and it ended in between 11 to 13 yrs. old. I can't quiet remember exactly when he stopped or why? I may be blocking or I just don't remember. Those few years are kinda hazy to me.
He would visit during the weekends and on Hollidays. Mom would make me share my bed with him so he would not sleep on the couch. I felt like that couch was more important than I was. I will never forgive her for doing that. He started sodomizing me the very first night. He would do it over and over. He would take breaks to rest and then start again. There were some nights I saw the sun come up before he quit. I will never forget those nights. They turned my life into chaos.
I was addicted to drugs when I was 13 and a full fledged alcoholic before I was 15. How I graduated High School I'll never know. I dated a lot of girls during that time. They were all druggies like me. I guess that I was looking for some attention and comfort. I deffinately did not get any at home. Mother was manipulative, dad showed no emotions and we were expected not to either, my brother was as addicted as I was and my sister was never worth much.
WELL, LIFE MOVES ON.
I had to quit my drugs and alcohol when I was 30. It was not because I wanted too. It was a medical thing. I was coughing up a lot of blood. They did an upper G.I. and thought I had cancer. Two weeks and four biopsy's later they determined that it was not cancer but it was one of those quit or die situations. I quit.
Quitting the drugs and alcohol was a shock. It wasn't so much the withdrawal as it was facing reality without being numb. I never had to deal with my problems sober before. I was allways intoxicated.
The next few years was rough. I tried many ways to cope with my problems. I was in and out of therapy. I tried yoga, meditation, different religions like Christian, Buddhism, Krishna, Brahman and so on. I tried keeping a diary, writing poetry, Eastern And Western philosophy, mantras, and mental exercises. They all helped but I was expecting too much. I was looking for a cure. I started sliding downhill from there.
About four years ago I lost my 3rd job. My children stopped comming around (It was a bitter divorce so I could not go to their mothers' house to visit. She couldn't come to mine either.) I eventually lost contact with them. That was it for me. I tried to commit suicide. I woke up in the Hospital looking at a social worker. She committed me to the Marion Mental Institute in Va. I stayed there for the next two months. They let me out on the condition that I regulary attended therapy and reported to a Pshyciatrist. I have complied for the last three years.
The first two years was a waste of time though. I had given up the night I tried to commit suicide. I was spending 20 to 23 hours a day locked up in my bedroom. I was going to therapy but all I was diong was going through the motions. I no longer wished to hurt myself but I was just waiting to die.
I finally pulled myself out of that funk.
Don't get me wrong. I still have all of the usual problems. PTSD, depression, nightmares, anxiety and so on. I still leave the house rarely and have as little human contact as possible. I don't even answer the phone. If my wife is not home to answer it, I let the answering machine get it.
I get so tired because I have been dealing with this for so long but I cannot give up again. I would rather have a life of chaos and pain than have none at all.
I read alot now and talk about my issues with my wife. I use the coping skills that I learned earlier in my life.I spend a lot of time with my dog. These things are not a cure but they help me cope.
I hope that this letter did not cause anyone to trigger or have any grief. If it did I truly apologize
Peace,
Gregory.
I was molested by my cousin starting when I was 7 and it ended in between 11 to 13 yrs. old. I can't quiet remember exactly when he stopped or why? I may be blocking or I just don't remember. Those few years are kinda hazy to me.
He would visit during the weekends and on Hollidays. Mom would make me share my bed with him so he would not sleep on the couch. I felt like that couch was more important than I was. I will never forgive her for doing that. He started sodomizing me the very first night. He would do it over and over. He would take breaks to rest and then start again. There were some nights I saw the sun come up before he quit. I will never forget those nights. They turned my life into chaos.
I was addicted to drugs when I was 13 and a full fledged alcoholic before I was 15. How I graduated High School I'll never know. I dated a lot of girls during that time. They were all druggies like me. I guess that I was looking for some attention and comfort. I deffinately did not get any at home. Mother was manipulative, dad showed no emotions and we were expected not to either, my brother was as addicted as I was and my sister was never worth much.
WELL, LIFE MOVES ON.
I had to quit my drugs and alcohol when I was 30. It was not because I wanted too. It was a medical thing. I was coughing up a lot of blood. They did an upper G.I. and thought I had cancer. Two weeks and four biopsy's later they determined that it was not cancer but it was one of those quit or die situations. I quit.
Quitting the drugs and alcohol was a shock. It wasn't so much the withdrawal as it was facing reality without being numb. I never had to deal with my problems sober before. I was allways intoxicated.
The next few years was rough. I tried many ways to cope with my problems. I was in and out of therapy. I tried yoga, meditation, different religions like Christian, Buddhism, Krishna, Brahman and so on. I tried keeping a diary, writing poetry, Eastern And Western philosophy, mantras, and mental exercises. They all helped but I was expecting too much. I was looking for a cure. I started sliding downhill from there.
About four years ago I lost my 3rd job. My children stopped comming around (It was a bitter divorce so I could not go to their mothers' house to visit. She couldn't come to mine either.) I eventually lost contact with them. That was it for me. I tried to commit suicide. I woke up in the Hospital looking at a social worker. She committed me to the Marion Mental Institute in Va. I stayed there for the next two months. They let me out on the condition that I regulary attended therapy and reported to a Pshyciatrist. I have complied for the last three years.
The first two years was a waste of time though. I had given up the night I tried to commit suicide. I was spending 20 to 23 hours a day locked up in my bedroom. I was going to therapy but all I was diong was going through the motions. I no longer wished to hurt myself but I was just waiting to die.
I finally pulled myself out of that funk.
Don't get me wrong. I still have all of the usual problems. PTSD, depression, nightmares, anxiety and so on. I still leave the house rarely and have as little human contact as possible. I don't even answer the phone. If my wife is not home to answer it, I let the answering machine get it.
I get so tired because I have been dealing with this for so long but I cannot give up again. I would rather have a life of chaos and pain than have none at all.
I read alot now and talk about my issues with my wife. I use the coping skills that I learned earlier in my life.I spend a lot of time with my dog. These things are not a cure but they help me cope.
I hope that this letter did not cause anyone to trigger or have any grief. If it did I truly apologize
Peace,
Gregory.
