The Other Little Boy Who Hurts (Triggers)

Sorry, Larry!

I will try to slow down a little and let you catch your breath. It's just that I feel such a connection to you that I want to tell you a zillion things at once. And I too am feeling very overwhelmed these days. So I, of all people, should understand. Just write what you can, when you can.

And greetings from sunny, muggy, mosquito-laden New England!

Jasper

 

[roadrunner]

Jasper,

Tell away! I didn't mean to be saying you are coming at me too fast. That's not it at all. It's just that I am finding it difficult to organize my thoughts sometimes.

I think the little boy's desperate need finally to tell his Dad is connected with the adult's grief at how staying quiet probably sealed the fate of many others. I don't feel guilt; i know it wasn't my fault. I can't describe it - just the grief that comes when you yourself know what all those later kids suffered.

For the little boy everything ended in 1960. Even stopping the abuse some years later didn't help because after that the agenda was for him to be ignored and willed into nonexistence by Big Larry so he could get on with his life. The adult feels for all those hurt and frightened kids and wishes there had been something he could have done. But that was then and this is now, and there is still one little boy standing right here and saying, hey...you can still help me.

Hope that makes sense, and a million apologies if I am freaking anyone out. I really am just overwhelmed.

Larry

 

and a million apologies if I am freaking anyone out. I really am just overwhelmed.

Hello Larry and Hello All:

I don't think you freaked anyone out. Honest! And we all feel overwhelmed. This is all so new to us. We sometimes have to remember to reach around and pat ourselves on the back for what we have accomplished. (My friend "sinking" is teaching me that. Thank you, "sinking!")

Anyhow, I was very touched by what you said about grieving for all the other little boys. Not feeling responsible. But grieving nevertheless. I feel that way too. About Paulie. And all the nameless young men of my hometown who fell victim to the married perp who molested me at 17. I don't blame myself, mind you. Not even for Paulie. Thanks to you and the other guys I know I did what a little kid could. Which wasn't much. So it isn't self-blame, just a sadness!

Speaking of Paulie, though, I would like to ask your advice and the advice of anyone else reading this thread. (Which I hope there are a few who might chime in.) Here's the question:

My instincts tell me that Paulie isn't ready to face what happened to him. He is in a place where he will probably deny any sexual abuse, and maybe trivialize the physical abuse too. That's just what he needs to do for himself for now. I understand. A few months ago, I kind of felt the same way.

But does this mean I am not free to tell other family members of my own abuse? If I tell anyone it would probably be my sister. I haven't thought it through yet. I'm not sure how she would take it. And whether it would help in my healing or not. But what about Paulie if I do tell? Should I keep his "secret" even though I want to tell my own? What do you guys say?

Thanks,

Jasper

 

[roadrunner]

Jasper,

Suppose in your childhood you and Paulie were out somewhere and were injured - say, for the sake of argument, exposed to a nasty chemical. Suppose also that you, as the older child, was the one who came up with the idea to go there.

That was 35 years ago, and now at the age of 50 you discover 1) that chemical can mess you up really bad, and 2) there is a way to get help to deal with this. What would you do?

Of course you would go to Paulie and tell him what you know, and ask him to join you in getting help. The fact that you are gay and he isn't would have nothing to do with it. You would probably not feel guilty - you were both just kids.

And if Paulie decided, no, nothing is wrong with him and you are exaggerating the danger, then of course you would go on your own, and probably you would tell him, when opportunities arose, that this really is a serious business and you are being helped a lot.

It's startling how everything looks different when a problem is one of sexual abuse. To steal a phrase my kids use, it's a total mindfucker. When the problem is SA, then all of a sudden everything is on a whole different level of pain and emotion - for us, for our families, and for society at large.

I know the comparison soon starts to fall apart in all sorts of ways. My point, Jasper, is that of course you should approach Paulie, of course you should tell your sister, and of course you should seek other assistance.

Ever notice how it is so much easier to see what someone else should do? The best option is sometimes so clear! I think that's because when we think of our own case then the little boy is right there: ashamed, guilty, and scared to death.

I am quite sure this is how it is with me anyway. I feared rejection or disbelief so bad when the denial was starting to fall apart. But everyone I have told has been wonderful and 100% supportive. I think things through, yes, and I am careful who I let my defenses down for. But I have been alone and afraid too long already. Now it's time for me!

And you, and Paulie.

Larry

 

Oh, Larry!

That was so passionate. So powerful. And a rather good analogy too. Instantly I want to hand back to you all the reasons, the logical rational reasons, why I simply cannot tell. Yet I am lost, Larry. Totally lost. I cannot think of a single objection that is good enough. Give me time though. I can intellectually weasel out of anything when I am scared. And I am very scared right now.

******Trigger Warning*******

If you can read this far, I want to share a flashback. In this flashback, I am a little boy again. A little chubby kid with freckles who is walking a funny-looking dog with big ears. We are quite a pair the two of us. I tell my dog everything! She licks my hand and seems to understand. But I am walking her now near my home. And I don't want to hurry. I don't want to go home. I want Paulie to arrive home first. Because I know he is waiting there. He is the devil. He is satan. He is our older brother.

Sometimes I am strong. Sometimes I run to help Paulie. And I watch our older brother twist his arm and make him fall to his knees in tears. Then our older brother looks at me. There is always that smirk on his face. That little laugh of pure evil. And I run. I run away and hide.

I am in the closet now. I am in the bedroom closet. Or hiding in the basement. Or behind the clothes hamper in the bathroom. If I was still a little kid I would climb in the hamper. I remember doing that once. But I'm too fat now, too slow, too scared.

*******

I'm a little fat kid who's scared, Larry. Don't you see? Isn't it so clear now? I'm just a little fat kid who's scared.

I got to go for now, Larry. But I'll be back. Soon I hope. Soon I'll feel stronger. I hope so. God, I hope so.

Jasper

 

[roadrunner]

Hi Jasper,

Two points come to mind today:

A few weeks ago we still had a small group of teens here, and I wonder what they would have said about the issue of being fat. I was always insecure about something or another: was I too fat, was I too tall, did girls like me, how come I'm so bad in baseball, just endless. One of my friends tells me he was so insecure in school about being skinny (he still is rather thin). So be easier on yourself perhaps. There was nothing wrong with you.

The other point has to do with Paulie again, and this comes back to what I said earlier about how it is so much easier to see the truth in someone else. It is written all over your post how guilty you feel about wishing that Paulie would get home first. But you were a child Jasper - an innocent frightened child. There is no way you could be responsible for anything you did to protect yourself. All of the blame belongs to the one who hurt two little brothers when he should have been doing his best to protect and cherish them.

This propably has a lot to do with how you feel about approaching Paulie now.

Hang in there ,
Larry

 

I was always insecure about something or another: was I too fat, was I too tall, did girls like me, how come I'm so bad in baseball, just endless. One of my friends tells me he was so insecure in school about being skinny (he still is rather thin). So be easier on yourself perhaps. There was nothing wrong with you.

Hello Larry:

I was a very skinny kid up through the first grade. Then something (I can only imagine!) happened to me over that summer. So that when I started second grade I was enormous. Looking back it seems so simple too, in a kid's logic kind of way. After all, I told myself that when I was a big kid, my brother couldn't mess with me. And I became a really big kid, really chubby. But still he messed with me. So that didn't work.

If you get a chance to read my other post (the one with the stupid title about the diaper), you'll see that a lot is happening right now. Memories are surfacing now. And rather than fight this thing I'm just going to let it happen.

So I may be spending a couple days or so in "Flashback City." And may not be able to post here much. But I just need to take a mini-break, spend a little time by myself, and try to absorb some of this stuff.

I hope you understand. Will post again in a couple of days or so!

Take care and thanks, Larry. I think you are right!

Jasper

 

[roadrunner]

Actually Jasper, I doubt that it matters whether either of us are "right" in some verifiable way. It's just that a lot of what you say rings true for me and helps me. It makes me think that I may get through all this crap somehow after all .

Larry

 

Hello Larry:

I think I have come to a few decisions. About Paulie. About me. And about looking forward.

First, here's what I think about Paulie. I think he has probably told his wife a lot of things he never told another living soul. I know his wife is aware of some of the abuse. Like I said, when my brother Paulie was really drunk one night many years ago, he told me and Andy about something our older brother used to taunt him with. Paulie's wife was there and as I think back, she didn't seem surprised. No doubt she heard it before. So I know she must have heard about the physical abuse too. And my guess...the sexual abuse.

Keep in mind that these were things Andy also heard from me over the years too. I would dole out bits and pieces but never really put the whole awful truth together. That's something I haven't been able to do until now.

So Paulie is in that same space, I think. Where he's confided some of this stuff to at least his wife. And she may or may not have wanted him to get counseling.

Looking back, this would explain a whole lot. Paulie and I have had such a strained relationship. One minute he reaches out to me, the next he does something so outrageously cruel that I never want to speak to him again. Until he reaches out to me once more. Only to push me away. And on and on it goes.

Oh, do I ever undersand his rage now! And that's what it is. For both of us, I guess. Plus whenever I tried to be alone with him at a party, he almost immediately did something to get other people in the room with us. So on some level, he knows. And he knows I know too. And he knows that if we are together for any length of time, we'll start talking about our childhoods. And about HIM!!!

I mention this because the question hangs in the air: How much responsibility do I have for Paulie's healing? I don't mean to sound like I am wimping out on this one. But right now...I can't accept any responsibility for Paulie's emotions, for his recovery.

I'm like a man who jumped from a sinking ship and made it to shore. I'm safe. I have a place to talk about what happened. I have a place to get the help I need to be better. But what of the other passengers left behind? Yes, they still have a chance. The ship hasn't sunk completely. Will they know enough to jump like me? Do they--does Paulie--understand that I can't risk going back into those waters, going back on to that sinking boat?

Maybe that sounds melodramatic but my family is not like yours. That is, I can't really depend on them to be there for me. And I don't think I can be there for them right now.

Do you know who I wish was still alive? My Dad! Maybe that's why I relate so much to your personal experience. And your desire to tell your father. I hadn't thought of it until now. But my Dad would be horrified if I told him. I think he would be very confused at first. It would hurt him greatly to think that one of his children had done these awful things to his two youngest sons. But my guess is he would start reading a lot of books on sexual abuse. He would talk to doctors. Ask questions. And really get behind me. In a way that no one else, not even my Mom, could.

But Dad's gone. My relationship with the remaining family members is strained at best. So I have to think of the future. I have to do what's best for my own family: Andy and me.

I'll talk about all this with my therapist. But I have come to a very powerful realization. I can't go back into that room and save little Paulie. I can't go back into my childhood and stand up to our older brother.

I was a little scared kid and that's okay. IT WAS NOT MY FAULT!

Wow! Just reminding myself that it wasn't my fault feels so powerful.

Hey, maybe I am making progress. What do you think?

Take care,

Jasper

 

[roadrunner]

Jasper,

First of all, thanks again from the depths of my heart. You will never know how much discussing these things is helping me along and getting me to see. Yes, I think you are making great progress, but believe me, it is not up to a basket case like me to judge that.

You pose a lot of deep issues in this post!!! Heres just my feedback, for whatever it is worth. Im just going to hit a few things as they come to my mind.

Your responsibility for Paulies healing: None at all, in the strictest sense. He is your brother and you love him, that is so clear! It sounds a lot like how I feel for my sister. But the analogy of the sinking ship is a good one. Look at it this way. Even if you were to swim back you would not be able to make Paulie jump and come back with you. He has to realize that the boat is going down and make his decision for himself. Your love can result in you trying to get him to see what is really happening that would be a great gesture of fraternal affection and dedication on your part. But at the end of the day what needs to be done he has to do himself. You are not and cannot be responsible for that.

Paulies rage and cruelty towards you: Jasper, I was thinking about this with this feeling, you know, you think you are onto something but you just cant express it. Now I think I have it. You and Paulie are two little kids whose communications and relationship as adults have been drastically distorted by what happened to both of you. There has probably been a lot of tension for a long time, and as a result, you are now just signaling to each other in ways that neither really understands. You mention several times his invitations that come very late. You see that as meaning "you are not welcome"; maybe what he is saying is, "I think you hate me and wont come, but here is an invitation anyway". Is that possible? The awful truth is no one knows. The only way you can see if things can be saved is to take a big chance that the answer is no.

Finally something you said struck me as really powerful and insightful:

I can't go back into that room and save little Paulie. I can't go back into my childhood and stand up to our older brother.

Thats the source of unending grief for me: not being able to go back and tell my Dad "Something happened and Im scared to tell". How many others would that have saved? I dont know, but Im not responsible for that. I was just a terrified kid. I can only work in the here and now and try to sort out my future in a way that will benefit me and those I love. In the same way, you cant go back and save Paulie. What is going on now can't have anything to do with making up to him for what occurred years ago. As you say, it wasn't your fault. You can express your love for him by trying to help him see what you now know, but if he wont come along, thats it, he doesnt come along. And even if he does, you have still not saved him from what happened to him; you are not atoning for some sin or failure. You didn't do anything wrong. Either way you are just acting according to your love for your brother. The rest is up to him.

Larry

 

Dear Larry:

Something you said--I'm not sure what--reminded me of some of the dangerous games Paulie and I played as children. Keep in mind, we weren't really wild children. We were pretty good most of the time. And except for tossing the occasional crab apple at a crabby neighbor's house, our aggression was usually directed at each other, not other people.

One game we played will sound positively crazy. When we were out shopping with our parents, we would borrow one of the shopping carts. Then while one pushed the cart, the other would stand at the very front of the cart and try desperately to hold on no matter what happened. And what happened? Like a maniac, I or Paulie would push that shopping cart up and down aisles, faster and faster, barely missing other shoppers, until finally...the one pushing let go. Many times, we hit store displays, walls, other shopping carts. Many times we could have been seriously injured. So why did we play this scary game of shopping cart "chicken"?

If you had asked my parents, they would have said we were letting off steam, that they really wished we wouldn't do such things, but it was all just boys being boys. But it wasn't just boys being boys. It was abused boys being abused boys!

Each of us knew that the other could get maimed. Somehow that made the game all the more compelling. Yes, we were letting off steam as our parents might have suggested. But it was the steam of living with daily terror. It was the steam of having one's most private parts treated like a toy that got picked up, abused, and then tossed aside with boredom.

To understand Paulie and me, I think it's important to understand that game. Like children dressing up on Halloween, pretending to be the very personfications of their worst fears (ghosts, goblins, vampires, demons), we were in essence acting very much the part of our sadistic brother. Odd, isn't it? I hadn't thought of that game in so many years. Yet it explains a lot about the adults we have become.

Larry, I don't know exactly what happened to Paulie. Only now am I putting together what happened to me. And the picture that is emerging is quite disturbing. Not only did our older brother sexually abuse me, physically abuse me, and verbally humiliate me--he came very close to taking my life on several occasions. What makes it so frightening is that some of these incidents happened when I was so young that even I didn't appreciate the danger. Only now can I look back and think, by the Grace of God I am alive here and now! And Paulie too.

Shall I tell Paulie? Knowing me, I will. But I was looking at an excellent article by Ken Singer this morning. Someone else talked about it in another post. And it discusses the various reasons for disclosure, when, how, and why to do it. Have you read that article yet, Larry? You will find a link to it on the home page, I believe.

Anyhow, I think I will write Paulie a letter at some point. Or go through a family intermediary. And eventually, the whole story will emerge. If Paulie doesn't go into denial, we can learn a lot from each other, as we reconstruct events way back when. But first, I must walk a little longer on the road of healing. I've just found that road. I've just taken those first few steps.

Larry, this has been so good for me too. I can't thank you enough.

Please take care,

 

[roadrunner]

Jasper,

I saw your post just as I was about to pick up my odds and bits and go home for the day .

Yes, I remember Ken Singer's article and thought it was very good. I keep discovering new ways in which this place is so helpful to me.

I don't know much about child psychology, but that game with Paulie does sound like two abused boys playing: "I don't matter, neither do you, and whatever happens here, it doesn't matter either." That's a heavy way to start out relating to a sibling.

It looks like we have come to similar conclusions: I need to tell my Dad and you need to talk to Paulie. I have been speaking to my sister to get her to see why I have to do this, and she has, as always, been very supportive. She is getting the idea that this isn't just about "telling", it's about healing as well.

Larry

 

Hello Larry:

Yes, I've been keeping my dead brother's secret way too long. It's no longer a matter of IF I will tell but when and how. And I need to tell for me! I wish I could say that I'm doing this for Paulie, that I'm doing this because it will somehow help him heal. I don't know, Larry. It may hurt him but I can't really speak for him, can I? If someone asks, I can say what my suspicions are. But I don't know for sure, do I? So I need to tell. And the ones I need to tell most are my oldest brother and my sister. They were the ones that would have protected me years ago if only I had gone to them. They are the ones I will turn to now. For ME! Is that selfish? Maybe. There's a little boy who's hurting now. And that little boy is me.

It's time to tell, Larry. It's time to finally tell.

Jasper

 

Dear Larry, Dear Friends:

A couple of weeks or so ago--has it only been that long?--I talked to Paulie. The other boy little boy who hurts is my brother Paulie. How I wished I had been able to protect him. More importantly, how I wish that when I called him up on the telphone to discuss the sexual abuse, he might have been able to confirm for me what our older brother did to both of us. Because right here, right now, I have no doubt that Paulie was sexually abused.

And God help me...Sweet Jesus help me...I think something really awful happened when I was six. I can't discuss it publicly now. I am so deeply ashamed. Perhaps I can discuss this with Larry privately. I hope you all understand.

But suppose, just suppose a perp made you do something to someone you love? Something that disgusted you? Something that you fought against and were beaten for? And suppose, because you fought, because you resisted, he never made you hurt your younger brother again? But suppose you were made to do something so sickening that you can't ever forgive yourself?

Oh, guys! I'll stop being coy here. I am pretty sure that when I was 6 and Paulie was 5, our older brother wanted me to stick something inside of him. I started to because I was afraid but then I stopped. I fought that evil devil. I got beaten for it but never again would he make me do that to poor Paulie.

I wanted to protect him. I tried. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't.

Am I really such a bad person, after all?

Thanks,

Jasper

 

[roadrunner]

Jasper,

I have no idea if what you are suggesting really happened. But what is important right now is that you are taking the possibility seriously.

No, you are not a bad person. Not in the least. You are a wonderful guy whose friendship I value and who has helped me in a million ways already.

You were a kid Jasper. You were being abused by an older brother who was probably emotionally unstable from a young age himself. The beatings, lies, and shaming from an abuser can get a kid to do anything. Even an older kid, like I was, can be "trained" to just get in the car, go with him, wait for him to unlock the door, and march upstairs and wait for him. YOU WERE FIVE YEARS OLD! You had absolutely no resources to resist the beatings, and it is an incredible tribute to your love and concern for Paulie that you were able to back off and say no.

It's the same thing we always tell each other, Jasper, and this time it's my turn: "It wasn't your fault". It can never be the kid's fault.

Take care,
Larry

 

[medicb4]

TRIGGERS
I am fighting the same demons in some respects.

I am the oldest in my family. I did not "penetrate" my 2 brothers but I know that we were doing things that can only be described as bad touch. I was oldest and I was instigator so I *am* a perp, but the ultimate responsibility lays with my mother for screwing me up by screwing me.

My wife said yesterday that she thinks I need to take the step of hating my mother - I do---I have for the last week hated her worth 25 years of repeatedly beating and raping me. 1 year's sexual assault has had ripple effects that make the tsunami look like a fart.

I am ashamed of what I did. I have spoken to my brothers - sought and recieved their forgiveness - but the damage is done...to all of us.

 

Larry:

I was going to address this with you privately. In fact, I was not going to post at all on this particular memory that recently surfaced. But since I did post publicly, and since you did comment publicly, I feel the need to follow up right here in this forum.

Now I obviously am not a psychiatrist, a psychologist, or a trained expert in Childhood Sexual Abuse. I am a survivor, and a "late-to-the-table" survivor at that. So there is a lot I don't know about these matters, although I am gaining much insight from Mike Lew's book ("Victims No Longer"). I am also gaining a rapid education by reading the posts here.

With these points in mind, I respectfully ask that you READ MY POST AGAIN. If you do, you will see that I was coming from a place of tremendous shame and hurt. Did I express myself very well? No. But did I tell the truth as I know it? Absolutely.

Therefore, I ask that you please look over your response to me, particularly these lines:

I have no idea if what you are suggesting really happened. But what is important right now is that you are taking the possibility seriously.

Larry, I don't get it. You have no idea if what I am suggesting really happened? Oh, Larry! Were you upset? Were you thinking of other things? Did you only get a chance to glance at my post in a hurry?

I am so perplexed and distraught right now. All the more so because I consider you a friend and confidante!

Larry, I was not trying to put my newly surfaced memory up to a vote. It was not to be a poll of did it happen? Did it not? I was TELLING YOU to the very best of my ability what did indeed happen.

You are my friend and I do not post this here to cause you unnecessary pain. If I could have woken up this morning and deleted my post, I gladly would have. Yet your response to my post would still be there, with those lines which sting me deeply.

I know this is a difficult time for you. But can you really picture yourself making such a statement to Charlie or Kevin or any of the guys around here? Even one of the older guys whose memories, like mine, are just now surfacing in bits and pieces? I don't think so, Larry.

Please forgive any undue pain I may have caused. I regret posting what I did because it makes it necessary to now post this reply.

And for that, and that alone, I am very sorry.

Respectfully,

Jasper

 

[roadrunner]

Jasper,

I am really glad you posted on this, as I would never have wanted you to allow this misunderstanding to fester and cause problems between us. I simply misread your post, and I think you have misread my reply. I thought you were saying that you think this might have happened but you were not sure. If you look at your post I think you will see how I could have read it that way.

So my response was to say that while I can't judge one way or the other (only you could do that), let us assume that the worst is true and take it from there.

You have now misread my misreading and taken it to suggest I don't believe you. Or at least, that is what I think you are saying.

Of course I believe you Jasper! Without any reservation whatever! This is the problem with text conversations sometimes - it is so easy to get something wrong, especially on a sensitive subject.

I am very sorry for upsetting you. It was entirely unintentional and I am very embarrassed that this could have happened. You are a great friend and I would never do anything to doubt you or hurt you.

Take care,
Larry

 

Larry,

I am so glad you cleared that up.

The problem for me is that I know I'm not getting all the help I could use on the outside. That is, all the help I really need apart from this site.

I don't have health insurance. I get my health care through a rural health center that provides medical and psychological care on a sliding scale basis. This is a Godsend to me. Yet at the same time, I am not seeing a psychologist who is specifically trained in CSA issues, nor am I in a group of survivors. Don't get me wrong! My PTSD therapy group is great. I feel very close to the people in that group, even though I am the only survivor. And I love my therapist. But...would it be more helpful for me to see someone who is an expert at the ways survivors cope with memories that surface decades later? You bet! This stuff tears me up sometimes. Whenever I get to a place where I think I have enough "apples" of memory to work with, something comes along and gives the tree another shaking. And that's what happened with this Paulie memory.

*****Trigger Warning!*******

I was so ashamed that my older brother even attempted to get me to do something to hurt Paulie. I am relieved that I think I only went so far as to pull down his underpants. And that made Paulie cry so much that I fought back. For which I got a severe beaten by my older brother. And I was the one who was "stuck" instead. (Thank God for Paulie's sake.)

Forgive me for being graphic here, but by stuck I mean that my sick older brother took a small religous statute and inserted it in my behind. Later, I think I took this object and buried it in the backyard. (That's the custom with Catholics when objects that were blessed by a priest are broken or no longer useable for whatever reason. Instead of being disposed of in the trash, they are buried with reverence.)

So how twisted is that? But did this memory come out and hit me all at once? Heck no! It was kind of working its way to the surface gradually. For over a week, I kept getting an image that my older brother tried to get me to hurt Paulie somehow. But I wasn't sure what happened. Then a little bit more came out until--wham!!! That gross memory is staring me in the face.

Forgive me, Larry. Forgive me for the awkward way I posted this to begin with. I can see why you might not be sure about it. When I start to post things, I am not even sure if something is real until I actually see it in "black-and-white." Then there's a kind of feeling of peace that comes over me. A feeling that I am indeed speaking the truth.

But the very process of how these memories surface after so many decades is driving me nuts. It's like they come in the back door instead of the front. They just kind of slip in, little by little. And suddenly it's all there in a funny kind of way. Then I want to run screaming from myself.

Oh, how tempting it is to go back into denial! There is a lot to be said for denial. It got me through most of my life, didn't it? But instead, I post here and hope desperately I'm doing the right thing. Because I really am not getting the special help I need. Maybe it's out there. Maybe it isn't. And without insurance, it's kind of maddening.

Anyhow, I see my doctor tomorrow. And I will see if she can change my meds. I need something to help with the body terror. Half the time now, I feel like I'm on the verge of a seizure. I'm not sure what that's about.

Also, maybe she knows of a CSA group I can go to, perhaps in addition to my PTSD group. It's worth asking, don't you think?

Oh, Larry! I'm so glad that we could talk this out. Yes, I know we all get touchy around here sometimes. I sure do. But I think it's because I just am frustrated about not getting proper treatment. And that's something I want for me, for you, and for every guy here.

Love ya, bro!

Jasper

 

[roadrunner]

Jasper,

I' m so glad that got straightened out. I never meant to question you, I just thought you were talking about possibilities.

I understand why you feel so hurt and ashamed about what your big brother made you do, but I also think its a good idea to insist that apologies for being graphic here aren't necessary. Sometimes I think it is a good thing just to say it and get it out in the open. Any time I have done that here the reaction has been so supportive and empowering, and at the very least being able to talk is a way of rejecting our abusers' power over us so many years ago - or not so many years ago for some of us. That too is important, or that's how I see it anyway.

Take care,
Larry