Secrecy: How we can break the habit.
Hello, all,
Part of every story of sexual abuse is a story of secrecy. The sexual abuser uses harm or the threat of harm to the victim or family of the victim as a way to make sure that the abuse stays secret.
That was definitely the way the abuse worked in my life. It became a central operating system in my life submitting all information, situations, responses--everything to its demand for secrecy.
The threatened harm in my case was not physical, but a sort of twisted guilt feeling that I was somehow responsible for at least part of the abuse. That I had somehow wanted the sexual attention of the man who abused me and that made me responsible.
I spent the next 30 years of my living and breathing to keep what he had done a secret. There was no more just "a secret". A veil of secrecy descended over my inner life and I lived a sort of lie for so long.
After years of avoiding the truth and being honest about myself, it became as though truth and honesty were dangerous things that would cause me trouble.
Being gay and hiding my homosexuality was much the same way. The threat of being ridiculed, humiliated or even physically attacked if I exposed the truth of my homosexuality acted as implicit threats destined to force me to keep this secret. Soon this secret too turned into a web of secrecy.
Combined with the web of secrecy developed around the sexual abuse, the secrecy surrounding my homosexuality had terrible consequences for me. I had to hide the truth about who I was and what I was doing.
That meant that when I went to the doctor and he asked if I was gay, I would say no, even though that lie could really be harmful to my health. No matter, the demands of the secrecy required me to sacrifice my wellbeing to its requirements.
I was afraid of telling anyone about the sexual relations I had with the 55 year old man who abused me, because I was afraid of being accused of being a homosexual.
In retrospect I see how the abuser used the threat of exposure as a homosexual to keep me quiet about what happened. No force was needed beyond the force of anticipated shame, ridicule and humiliation.
A huge step in my beginning to recover from the effects of sexual abuse was when I was first able to admit to myself that I was gay. Later it was in telling some trusted friends.
Not being very practiced at disclosing my secrets, I sometimes disclosed them to untrustworthy people. It was a painful way to learn and sometimes helped reinforce the threat that I had lived under for so long...that if people really knew the truth about me, about the abuse, about my homosexuality...that they would be revolted by me.
Eventually one of my most pernicious coping mechanisms, alcholism, led me to be in contact with individuals who were completely trustworthy.
I told the whole story of my life to one person, as much as I knew what the truth was. And I felt such a sense of relief that I learned that the threat of shame used to keep me quiet was a lie.
Since that first step I have had many opportunities to practice breaking the web of secrecy which once choked out the light of my life.
Still that old habit of secrecy is not dead and will creep back into my life if I don't practice regular checks on myself to see what and why I am keeping secrets again.
My therapist asked me last week if I had told my psychiatrist that I was leaving group therapy. I said no, I hadn't. He then encouraged me to look at that lapse and see if I could be going back to using the cloak of secrecy to hide my feelings behind.
Eventually I called my shrink and told him what was going on with me and about leaving the group.
It's not that big of a deal by itself, but I do think that left unchecked, the web of secrecy could start to build again
Today I make sure that I have several people in my life at all times with whom I am completely comfortable and who know that I will use them to check in with to make sure that my secrecy is not making a comeback.
I know that when I am contemplating taking an action or having thoughts that I hesitate to share with these guys, that there is something wrong in the picture. And that I need to share my secret with a trustworthy person in order to feel ok with myself.
Now breaking out of secrecy does not mean telling all my business to everybody I meet. There has been a long learning period of discerning who is trustworthy and who is not.
It is also very important that I don't start keeping secrets from myself. I'm not sure I can explain that here right now, but maybe some of you all can identify.
As a gay man and as a survivor of sexual abuse it is vital that I continue to keep my life clear of the dark web of secrecy. So much shame, so much sorrow, so much sadness lies behind that veil. One would think that I would avoid it with all my strength.
Yet even today when I feel very uncomfortable with myself, I will almost instinctively gravitate toward that secret place.
That's why it is so important for me to have the mechanism in place in my life to help stop that cloud of secrecy from spreading.
Coming out of the isolation of a gay man in our homophobic society and the isolation of a male survivor of sexual abuse, allowed me to make contact with trustworthy people who would help me break down the world of secrecy I had lived in for so long.
Today it is by being honest with myself, with God and with another understanding, trustworthy human being that I keep myself free from the secrets that once ruled my life.
"We are only as sick as our secrets." is the saying I often here.
What ways have you all found to break the habit of secrecy in your life?
I would love to hear your experience, strength and hope.
What kinds of methods do you use to keep your secrets from making you sick?
Looking forward to hearing from you,
Regards,
Part of every story of sexual abuse is a story of secrecy. The sexual abuser uses harm or the threat of harm to the victim or family of the victim as a way to make sure that the abuse stays secret.
That was definitely the way the abuse worked in my life. It became a central operating system in my life submitting all information, situations, responses--everything to its demand for secrecy.
The threatened harm in my case was not physical, but a sort of twisted guilt feeling that I was somehow responsible for at least part of the abuse. That I had somehow wanted the sexual attention of the man who abused me and that made me responsible.
I spent the next 30 years of my living and breathing to keep what he had done a secret. There was no more just "a secret". A veil of secrecy descended over my inner life and I lived a sort of lie for so long.
After years of avoiding the truth and being honest about myself, it became as though truth and honesty were dangerous things that would cause me trouble.
Being gay and hiding my homosexuality was much the same way. The threat of being ridiculed, humiliated or even physically attacked if I exposed the truth of my homosexuality acted as implicit threats destined to force me to keep this secret. Soon this secret too turned into a web of secrecy.
Combined with the web of secrecy developed around the sexual abuse, the secrecy surrounding my homosexuality had terrible consequences for me. I had to hide the truth about who I was and what I was doing.
That meant that when I went to the doctor and he asked if I was gay, I would say no, even though that lie could really be harmful to my health. No matter, the demands of the secrecy required me to sacrifice my wellbeing to its requirements.
I was afraid of telling anyone about the sexual relations I had with the 55 year old man who abused me, because I was afraid of being accused of being a homosexual.
In retrospect I see how the abuser used the threat of exposure as a homosexual to keep me quiet about what happened. No force was needed beyond the force of anticipated shame, ridicule and humiliation.
A huge step in my beginning to recover from the effects of sexual abuse was when I was first able to admit to myself that I was gay. Later it was in telling some trusted friends.
Not being very practiced at disclosing my secrets, I sometimes disclosed them to untrustworthy people. It was a painful way to learn and sometimes helped reinforce the threat that I had lived under for so long...that if people really knew the truth about me, about the abuse, about my homosexuality...that they would be revolted by me.
Eventually one of my most pernicious coping mechanisms, alcholism, led me to be in contact with individuals who were completely trustworthy.
I told the whole story of my life to one person, as much as I knew what the truth was. And I felt such a sense of relief that I learned that the threat of shame used to keep me quiet was a lie.
Since that first step I have had many opportunities to practice breaking the web of secrecy which once choked out the light of my life.
Still that old habit of secrecy is not dead and will creep back into my life if I don't practice regular checks on myself to see what and why I am keeping secrets again.
My therapist asked me last week if I had told my psychiatrist that I was leaving group therapy. I said no, I hadn't. He then encouraged me to look at that lapse and see if I could be going back to using the cloak of secrecy to hide my feelings behind.
Eventually I called my shrink and told him what was going on with me and about leaving the group.
It's not that big of a deal by itself, but I do think that left unchecked, the web of secrecy could start to build again
Today I make sure that I have several people in my life at all times with whom I am completely comfortable and who know that I will use them to check in with to make sure that my secrecy is not making a comeback.
I know that when I am contemplating taking an action or having thoughts that I hesitate to share with these guys, that there is something wrong in the picture. And that I need to share my secret with a trustworthy person in order to feel ok with myself.
Now breaking out of secrecy does not mean telling all my business to everybody I meet. There has been a long learning period of discerning who is trustworthy and who is not.
It is also very important that I don't start keeping secrets from myself. I'm not sure I can explain that here right now, but maybe some of you all can identify.
As a gay man and as a survivor of sexual abuse it is vital that I continue to keep my life clear of the dark web of secrecy. So much shame, so much sorrow, so much sadness lies behind that veil. One would think that I would avoid it with all my strength.
Yet even today when I feel very uncomfortable with myself, I will almost instinctively gravitate toward that secret place.
That's why it is so important for me to have the mechanism in place in my life to help stop that cloud of secrecy from spreading.
Coming out of the isolation of a gay man in our homophobic society and the isolation of a male survivor of sexual abuse, allowed me to make contact with trustworthy people who would help me break down the world of secrecy I had lived in for so long.
Today it is by being honest with myself, with God and with another understanding, trustworthy human being that I keep myself free from the secrets that once ruled my life.
"We are only as sick as our secrets." is the saying I often here.
What ways have you all found to break the habit of secrecy in your life?
I would love to hear your experience, strength and hope.
What kinds of methods do you use to keep your secrets from making you sick?
Looking forward to hearing from you,
Regards,
