new to this site and hurting!!
TexasCowboy
Registrant
It wasn't until a few years ago when I got into my early 30's that I sought psychotherapy to find out why I could not hold on to a relationship, why I turned away from anyone who seemingly loved me, and sought only those who would hurt me. I sought professional help to find out why I had occassional outbursts of anger and rage combined with an inability to sleep and a feeling of fear surrounding me. The nightmares still persist.
I also needed to find out why I had a food addiction, seeking food as a source of comfort, indulging in binge eating and purging.
Several months into therapy during one session I just blurted out, "who knows, maybe I was raped as a kid by my father"; yet, having no recollection of such a heinous, represensible act by a this very soft-spoken, gentle, kind rancher and oil man.
My dad was anything but the stereotpyical flashy Texas rancher or oil type, coming from a ranching family in Texas as far back as 1831. It just didn't make sense.
I only have three recollections that my father may have abused me, in addition to the tears that I feel welling up in my hurting blue eyes. I remember that my parents did not sleep together and would crawl in bed every night with my father. He would take me in his arms and snuggle me, his big barrel chest next to mine. I remember that the few times my mother entererd into his bedroom (yes, they kept separate bedrooms) he would immediately push me away so that my mother could not see the intimacy that was going on. This confused me and seem to say to me that there was something wrong, or even "dirty" happening. Beyond that, I have no recollection of penetration, or touching his genitals, or vice-versa.
When I was 9 years old I experienced rectal bleeding. When I was told a proctoscope examination was going to be performed and the procedure was explained to me, and I was shown the tiny tube that would be inerted in my rectum, I went in to blind hysteria and screamed for more than 30minutes until I had lost my voice, crying and refusing for the physician to insert this tiny tube into my rectal canal. After giving me a sedative he could not understand or explain why there was tearing of tissue in my rectal canal, literally blaming it on undigestable popcorn kernals. A small rural town more than 30 years ago there was no concept of child sexual abuse nor did anyone know how to look for the signs. Only one other act can I recall, and it was a tune I made up and I would sing while doing push ups not altogether different than sexual intercouse all the time singing "Daddy, daddy, I love you so much I could beat you up to death" At 7 years old?
I wish someone would help me. Are these indeed signs that I was sexually abused as a child? Are the memories so painful and reprehensible that I can not recall any act that might have occured, other than what I have mentioned. Have I been able to repress these memories that deeply? Maybe it wasn't my father, but someone else? Maybe it never happened at all?
Two behaviorial patterns emerged that also point to my having been sexually abused. Between the summer of my second and third grade years there was a sudden change from a very bright, happy, enthusiastic child who brought home straight A's was at the top of his class, considered gifted, popular, athletic, and a natural born leader, to someone who suddenly became withdrawn, quiet, and to himself, spurning friends. Also, around the age of 10 my father completely ignored me, shutting me out of his life and from that point on never showed me any sort of affection, gave any sort of encouragement or praise, and put me to work on our ranch during those hot Texas summers auguring post holes, stretching barbed wire, bailing hay, and dipping cattle, all under a ranch forman's tutelage. From that moment on, I hardly saw my father, I never was hugged by him again, and felt that I must have done something terribly, terribly wrong.
About the time my father shut me out of my life, my mother became physically and verbally abusive, beating me for not getting up by 5am on Saturdays to work, humiliating me in front of family friends and relatives, and reminding me of how useless and worthless I was. This continuted until I was 17 and left home for to go to college. Between my father's ineffectual behavior, concomitant my mother's hateful demeanor, I truly thought this was a normal way of living all the way until I reached my 30's.
My folks died a few years ago so I have no ability to find closure. I just wish I could find a way to recall what if anyting really happened with my father. It seems so completely out of place that this man, a gentle, but ruggedly masculine, quiet type of man could have that much evil in his heart. I never knew love from either of them, and I don't think I ever felt love toward them, only fear. I think it's amazing that I have turned out as sane as I am, but it's also time to move on. Please share any thoughts. I'm hurting, still alone, which I feel I have been my entire life.
I also needed to find out why I had a food addiction, seeking food as a source of comfort, indulging in binge eating and purging.
Several months into therapy during one session I just blurted out, "who knows, maybe I was raped as a kid by my father"; yet, having no recollection of such a heinous, represensible act by a this very soft-spoken, gentle, kind rancher and oil man.
My dad was anything but the stereotpyical flashy Texas rancher or oil type, coming from a ranching family in Texas as far back as 1831. It just didn't make sense.
I only have three recollections that my father may have abused me, in addition to the tears that I feel welling up in my hurting blue eyes. I remember that my parents did not sleep together and would crawl in bed every night with my father. He would take me in his arms and snuggle me, his big barrel chest next to mine. I remember that the few times my mother entererd into his bedroom (yes, they kept separate bedrooms) he would immediately push me away so that my mother could not see the intimacy that was going on. This confused me and seem to say to me that there was something wrong, or even "dirty" happening. Beyond that, I have no recollection of penetration, or touching his genitals, or vice-versa.
When I was 9 years old I experienced rectal bleeding. When I was told a proctoscope examination was going to be performed and the procedure was explained to me, and I was shown the tiny tube that would be inerted in my rectum, I went in to blind hysteria and screamed for more than 30minutes until I had lost my voice, crying and refusing for the physician to insert this tiny tube into my rectal canal. After giving me a sedative he could not understand or explain why there was tearing of tissue in my rectal canal, literally blaming it on undigestable popcorn kernals. A small rural town more than 30 years ago there was no concept of child sexual abuse nor did anyone know how to look for the signs. Only one other act can I recall, and it was a tune I made up and I would sing while doing push ups not altogether different than sexual intercouse all the time singing "Daddy, daddy, I love you so much I could beat you up to death" At 7 years old?
I wish someone would help me. Are these indeed signs that I was sexually abused as a child? Are the memories so painful and reprehensible that I can not recall any act that might have occured, other than what I have mentioned. Have I been able to repress these memories that deeply? Maybe it wasn't my father, but someone else? Maybe it never happened at all?
Two behaviorial patterns emerged that also point to my having been sexually abused. Between the summer of my second and third grade years there was a sudden change from a very bright, happy, enthusiastic child who brought home straight A's was at the top of his class, considered gifted, popular, athletic, and a natural born leader, to someone who suddenly became withdrawn, quiet, and to himself, spurning friends. Also, around the age of 10 my father completely ignored me, shutting me out of his life and from that point on never showed me any sort of affection, gave any sort of encouragement or praise, and put me to work on our ranch during those hot Texas summers auguring post holes, stretching barbed wire, bailing hay, and dipping cattle, all under a ranch forman's tutelage. From that moment on, I hardly saw my father, I never was hugged by him again, and felt that I must have done something terribly, terribly wrong.
About the time my father shut me out of my life, my mother became physically and verbally abusive, beating me for not getting up by 5am on Saturdays to work, humiliating me in front of family friends and relatives, and reminding me of how useless and worthless I was. This continuted until I was 17 and left home for to go to college. Between my father's ineffectual behavior, concomitant my mother's hateful demeanor, I truly thought this was a normal way of living all the way until I reached my 30's.
My folks died a few years ago so I have no ability to find closure. I just wish I could find a way to recall what if anyting really happened with my father. It seems so completely out of place that this man, a gentle, but ruggedly masculine, quiet type of man could have that much evil in his heart. I never knew love from either of them, and I don't think I ever felt love toward them, only fear. I think it's amazing that I have turned out as sane as I am, but it's also time to move on. Please share any thoughts. I'm hurting, still alone, which I feel I have been my entire life.