This will sound unremarkably usual, but...

This will sound unremarkably usual, but...
B

borderline

Registrant
I'm not really sure why I'm here. I was lying in bed tonight, and I couldn't fall asleep. Once in a while, my memories from when I was little come flooding back to me, and I just can't sleep. I guess I felt compulsed to tell my little tale to a group of complete strangers.

I'm new here, by the way.

To be honest, I'm attending a local university to become a therapist. I've always wanted to help people, but recently, we've been going over childhood sexual abuse, and it became abundantly more and more clear that I fit the bill rather perfectly. Initially, I wasn't surprised, because I also happened to fit the bill for senescent irritability, and being 20, I started to lose faith in my diagnoses. However, the past few weeks have been relatively sleepless, and I guess somewhere along the line, I had to squeal.

As you've no doubt guessed by my very presence here, I was among the droves of sexually abused young men. Just typing that gives me a chill. I'd never actually thought about it in any significant capacity at any point in my life, and now all of the sudden, I'm spilling my guts. It's almost physically painful to press the keys in this sequence. The person who abused me (I don't care for that term, abused. However, many of the other euphemisms appropriate to the situation are not something a gentleman should say)was actually my only sister. She's a dear woman now, I love her to death, because she's my big sister. However, when I was 6 years old, and it all started, I wasn't so pleased with her, I guess. I can't actually recall how I felt, just spotty detail of the sensory perceptions I recieved. My parents were very keen on going out every Saturday night, and they trusted my 4-years-elder sister to be a compotent babysitter, which she was. However, she apparently had some bizzare sexual curiousity to fulfill. I won't go into detail with exactly what happened, because some of it is just terribly embarassing, but suffice it to say there was full sexual contact, penetration included (God, did I just say that?)

This behavior went on until I was 14. This happened every saturday night for 8 years, yet I only remember a few scant seconds of occurance, though a tearful confession from her years later affirmed that I hadn't simply dreamed it up. I wish I had, and so does she, I suspect. In her tearful confession (I was age 19 when she brought it up over a long car ride, any mathematician will tell you that she was 23 at the time), she expressed that she feared she'd ruined me sexually, and caused my rampant homosexuality. I assured her that it wasn't true, and that I had chosen to be attracted to men of my own accord. In truth, I wasn't sure, and am still not to this very day, but I didn't think she'd be able to cope with any more guilt. We haven't spoken of it since, but I began to silently wonder. Most days, it never crossed my mind, but on nights like this, I can't avoid it. In faith, I can't... how do I gently present this? I can't masturbate (Mastery of bluntness) because the memory of one of those horrible nights will sing back into my mind. It's multiplied by the fact that I sleep in my sister's old bedroom, where the incidents took place (She's moved out and married, but I live at home to commute to school. Her room was bigger.) looking at that same ceiling. Awful.

Now, all of this, I simply wouldn't give a damn if I didn't have an inkling of a thought that it was the cunning cause of some of my problems. The buggery of men, for example. Also, I quite obviously have an eating disorder (I say this at about 340 pounds, and counting!), and faded recollections of her bribing me with food come to mind. I've never been one to place blame for my own shortcomings on something else, but I can't help but think there's a connection.

Anyways, please let me know if there's a pill I can take or a telephone handset I can beat myself sensless with until I forget about all of this mess and get on with this whole "Life" mess.

Since I know there's not, I really don't know what I'm doing here, why I'm writing this, or, in all honesty, why I think anyone in their left mind will read it.

But if you did, thanks for enduring my ramblings.

~B

P.S.: If this is in the wrong forum, poorly formulated, or simply not interesting, feel free to fire a nuke on it.
 
Using my left mind and my right mind, I strongly feel that you are in this place because a) you do belong here, like the rest of us; and b) you need to be here right now, for your own healing and for the healing you hope to be able to assist others in finding.
I think all your issues are inter-related; at least mine seem to be. But I don't sense a cause and effect connection. Personally, I believe that I was homosexual in utero. In other words, I am not gay because I was molested. (It might have been the other way around). But, because I was molested, as an adult I have problems with self image and self esteem, intimacy, feeling and expressing emotions, honesty, etc.,
Stick around for awhile. You should find it interesting and possibly very useful.
Love, etc.,
 
I think you're right about the inter-relatedness of it all. I have a lot of trouble expressing (certain) emotions. My mother always says "My switchboards are crossed" because I laugh hysterically when I'm sad, or when I'm getting yelled at. I mean swells of laughter that I can't control. The last time I got fired, I was actually leaning on my (ex)boss' door, in a fit of laughter, when all I actually wanted to do was feel sad and mopey like everybody else does when they get canned. I can't say for certain that it's definitely related, but a lot of my emotions are mixed up like that, and it means that I have no tact when it comes to talking to people. I don't convey things with emotion or empathy, I'm as blunt as an unsharpened pencil, and I can't control it.
 
I think that its great that the topic was at least breached between you and your abuser. I know the word is so negative but it refers to the abuse of power, which your sister had over you. She made bad decisions, decisions that negatively affected another person, you. She needs to look at her own past. I would caution that because you love her dearly and you are in communication with her, that you go through the process separately and then discuss at the appropriate times in the process. You have to think of you right now if this confusion is ever to be clear.

I wanted to protect my parents from the truth that they weren't there for me and that they did not give me enough attention and affection. They were focused on themselves, to get them through the things they were dealing with. I finally had to tell them, I couldn't carry all of it anymore. And they are actually better for it as they thought they were going to loose me. They knew what they did or did not do, it was just out in the open now. Its all hard, some things more than others, but its a long journey and I hope I haven't scared you away from taking it along side us.
 
B, I won't give any advice. The advice you have been given is good. Welcome. You're here, I think, because you feel a need to talk about what happened to you. This is a good place to do that. You'll find people here who are interested in helping you in sorting out all of the different questions you seem to be asking yourself. It is you who will ultimately do the sorting, but it really does help to bounce it off men who have traveled through much of the same territory, or may be traveling through at the same time you are.
I can speak to two of the subjects you talk about. I, too, have a weight problem, and I really do relate it directly to the abuse (sorry, but I can think of no other term to use). I've had it all of my life and call it my "drug" of choice. We try to numb the pain, and we all do it, we just choose different ways. Of course, with your college course of study, you knew that. That said, it doesn't make dieting any easier. I'm not "well?" yet, but I'm hoping that there will be a point in my healing when the pounds will just fall off because I'm so mentally healthy. Don't think that will happen, but I can dream. Anyway, the miracle cure for weight is very close...I saw an ad on TV.
The other thing I can speak to is the homosexuality. I don't think you will ever answer that question. I'm sixty, and not a day goes by that I don't ask myself the same question. My t has the best answer, I think. He says that it really doesn't matter why I'm gay, I'm just gay. I guess that's true, but it doesn't stop the questioning. My answer is that I was probably a gay little boy who was abused, rather than a straight little boy who became gay because of the abuse.
Welcome, B. This is a good place to bring all of your questions. Nobody will give you answers here, but we will listen and tell you what we think, and try to help you sort it all out. You came here because you needed to talk. That's what this place is here for, We're glad you found us.

Bobby
 
Borderline,

I think it would be fair to say that all your difficulties are definitely connected together. Overeating, for example, is a well-known form of acting out and responding to abuse. Mine was alcohol and drugs, yours is food.

There's no magic formula or way to forget what happened, in the same way that other forms of trauma just can't be forgotten. Recovery isn't like that. What we get isn't amnesia, but peace; we learn how to bear the memories but deny then any further power to harm us and prevent us from living fulfilling and joyful lives.

Don't be afraid to let out how you feel and what your problems are. They have all been seen here before, no one will judge you, and everyone will understand and support you.

A final word on being gay. May I pick up on what George said and suggest that you didn't "choose" to be gay? It is just part of who you are, like having brown hair as opposed to black. Don't beat yourself up over this, as if it is something to be ashamed of. To do that is just to buy into the prejudice of hung-up straight society.

Welcome to MS. I'm sure you will gain a lot from the site. Ease into things at your own pace, and you will be fine here.

Much love,
Larry
 
Borderline,

Welcome to the discussion board. As you can see from the above responses, you'll find a lot of support here. You posted at this site because you're ready to take a new step in your path to recovery.

Courage-Wisdom-Spirituality
 
You guys are really fantastic for understanding what I'm going through, which isn't necessarily anything yet, but is becoming dangerously close to being an issue I'm willing to recognize and deal with.

I wanna make something clear right away, and please don't take this the wrong way: I've noticed that many of you have come from self-described "Dysfunctional" families. This simply isn't the case for me. My parents are still together, and we've always lived a totally normal lifestyle, except for the incident in question. My parents, while a little quirky, were exactly the kind of people you could go to with your problems.

Except, of course, this one.

I just wanted to dispell the idea that my family was somehow damaged, because outside of typical family disfunction, I can still cope with all of them, and don't plan to strike them with anything anytime soon. It seems a common vein of flavoring here, which worries me, because I'm totally fine with the sister who did this to me, and the parents who never found out about it. Maybe I'm just very forgiving. Maybe I'm supposed to hate her, or I'll never get better. I need to vilify some foul demon who wronged me, but I simply can't. I love my sister, and I trust her with every fiber of my being. She's always been there for me, and I've always been there for her.

I walked out of my bedroom today, and my mother, vigilantly cooking dinner as always, said "Did you call your sister yet? You have to pick her up today.". A pang hit me as thoughts of making the above post rushed back to me. I'd never told my story before. To anyone. And until last night, I've never let onto myself that it was "Not OK." Now, I actually feel afraid of seeing my dear sister, the one whom I'm trying to counsel through her infertility problems, the who took me to the mall last week simply because she wanted to go look at Christmas lights, and paid my tab at Johnny Rocket's just so we could see the waiters dance. Now I'm scared of her. What the hell is wrong with me?

I've always been the kind of fellow who could just "Tough out" psychological traumas. I've been able to work most of them out and feel actualized fairly simply, typically after an evening with a good book, and lots of time to think to myself. I can't tough this one out. I can't work out a solution by staring at my alarm clock while I lay on my side, as much as I want to. I can't find a way out, and now that I've told the story, it's in my mind, and I apparently can't cope with it, because I'm not quite as amazingly together as I once thought.
 
Borderline,

I see what you mean about dysfunctional families, but I too am from one that is just about as functional as anyone could hope for. My abuser was not a family member, and when I disclosed to my parents last week their reaction was 100% support. That support means a lot, but it still took me a LONG time to get to the point where I could tell them. It's complicated, as I am sure you already know.

Bro, it is very common to discover once you get here that things just seem to get more and more confusing for awhile. That's natural, and it just means that you are beginning to appreciate perspectives that you never thought of in the past.

You talk about toughing it out. I so know what you mean, but this one is beyond that. Trying to bungle your way through on your own will just lead to a lot more trauma and hurt, and it would take a lot longer to heal, assuming that you would ever reach that point. Therapy is there to help us; we just need to accept that we need it and ask for help.

Finding your own groove will help you a lot. I am so glad you found us.

Much love,
Larry
 
You guys are all so great to be so welcoming to such a cynical young man. I can't tell you how grateful I am.

I've just gotten back from thanksgiving dinner with my family, and my sister was there. We got along just fine, laughing and joking as always, but she told me (And this will seem ironically timed, but it's the God's-honest truth, and I'm a man of faith) that she'd contacted her old school friend who had moved away when she was 14 or so. This only strikes me because there was one time when this girl "Joined in", at least partially, to what had been going on. I was 9 or 10 then, and I had a sudden recollection of the girl in question saying "I don't know, this seems wrong", and my sister assuring her it was okay. I don't really remember what happened after that, but I do remember lying naked on the bed in front of her. The rest is kind of blurry, but I know it was her. I remember her name and her face. Like I said, that bit sounds far-fetched and ironically timed, but I am telling the truth, and it came flooding back to me when she said the girl's name. My sister has mentioned her in the past, but I think with my recent posting here, I was in the right state of mind to remember.

Right now, my sister is in the living room chatting it up with the family, and thank goodness she didn't catch on to my sudden pang of memory when she said the other girl's name. She's supposed to come up and visit now that they've reconnected.

These incidents must have happened more than I thought, because the more I think about it, the more murky memories leak back into my mind, and I'm not sure I want them there. It scares me so much to think about what else could have happened that I don't remember. I never thought I had the kind of mind that blocked out bad memories, but I've very obviously locked away a lot more than I thought.
 
I guess the last bit wasn't very interesting, but it's true. It's not nearly as scary, since I wasn't related to her, but I was more concerned with the quantity and content of memories that I've repressed.

If the mere mention of a random girl's name brought my receptive mind into focus, who else could have been involved? I don't think having a receptive mind is such a good thing after all.
 
I remember being very confused and scared when I recently began to deal with all this "old shit." I had sooo much repressed, and it has only begun to be uncovered and re-remembered in my head/heart/gut. But, this i do know already for sure. It is only by bringing this stuff out, bit by bit, and looking at it clearly (not by stuffing it back in unexamined) -- asking questions of a T, or of my brothers here at MS -- striving to accurately put it back together as much as possible -- that is the only way, for me, to effectively change my own negative and self-destructive attitudes/behaviors/etc.
You're in the right place, brother. As we say in AA, "Keep coming back".
Love, etc.
 
Originally posted by george of kent:
I remember being very confused and scared when I recently began to deal with all this "old shit." I had sooo much repressed, and it has only begun to be uncovered and re-remembered in my head/heart/gut. But, this i do know already for sure. It is only by bringing this stuff out, bit by bit, and looking at it clearly (not by stuffing it back in unexamined) -- asking questions of a T, or of my brothers here at MS -- striving to accurately put it back together as much as possible -- that is the only way, for me, to effectively change my own negative and self-destructive attitudes/behaviors/etc.
You're in the right place, brother. As we say in AA, "Keep coming back".
Love, etc.
Click to expand...
Well, since I don't think I'll be going to a therapist anytime soon, the best I can possibly do is hope to cobble together a good idea of how to sort out these things by asking for help, reading how others deal with it, and simply hope for the best. So, to be terribly honest, all I have to go on, to work with, is what you guys tell me. I didn't even think of it as a problem until 3 days ago, so I think I have a ridiculously stupid and long road ahead. It really isn't fair, it's not fair at all. I refuse to lay my problems on it, and yet, at the very same time, the correlation is so annoyingly obvious it amazes me that I didn't see it before.

In case you can't tell, I feel rather hostile about all of it, and also terribly confused. Thank goodness for you guys, because I probably wouldn't have slept these past three nights without all of you. I'm just a beginner.
 
Hi borderline, don't worry if we don't get back to you right away. We are reading your messages. But some of us may feel that we have no words of wisdom, or we may have writers block.

If I have the numbers right your sister was 10 when this began? That seems a bit early for normal exploring. Could your sister have been molested herself? Could she have been acting out with you?

Take care,
Lostcowboy
 
Please, don't get me wrong. I wasn't complaining about people not replying, I was angry about other things. It had nothing to do with you guys. I'm really sorry if I was unclear or misleading.

Yeah, she was 10. No, I don't think she was ever molested, at least not by my parents. She was an early bloomer from what I know, she started puberty at 7 or 8. I, on the other hand, didn't start until I was 15 or so. As far as I know, my parents weren't involved in any of this, and are to this point totally unaware of it ever occuring.
 
okay, you're in the right place. Now take a couple of deep breaths. Be patient with yourself and with us. For every "aha" moment of insight and healing there will probably be days of digging, grazing and "chewing of cud." Your anger is normal and is justified, but don't let it turn inward. For only four days (??) into the process, it seems you're doing quite well.
Love, etc.
 
Borderline,

Your posts reflect what I think of as the "New Guy Syndrome". It goes like this. A new person finds the site, checks it out, maybe lurks unknown and unregistered for awhile. Then he registers, maybe comes to chat, but is afraid no one will be interested in his case, no one will believe him, no one will answer him if he posts, all the usual fears that we ALL have when we first come here. He finally posts, almost falling off his chair and with palms sweating, and voila! People believe him, offer their help and support, he's not alone! It's an amazing feeling - almost euphoric.

That was me Borderline, and I bet a lot of others. I thought aha, this is going to be easier than I thought; I just have to spend a few weeks sorting out this and that, and finito.

I wish! What comes next - and I think others will back me up here - is discovering that everything is so much more complicated than you thought. It feels like every step forward comes with two or three back. It's like a discovery stage I guess.

That comes with a lot of frustration and confusion bro, but just remember that we have ALL been there, and in some ways we are still there. I feel like I have made great progress, but I am still discovering new dimensions of how abuse has affected me.

I guess my point is just set your pace to suit yourself. You won't figure it all out as fast as you would like, and there is a lot of emotion all bottled up. That will come out sooner or later, so just let it go if you can. We see it all the time, we have all done it, and we all understand.

Soon you will see that this place really is a band of brothers, that you really can be yourself here, and that you are safe and understood. I can see you "know" that already, but soon you will really "believe" it. There is such a difference.

Much love,
Larry
 
I was honestly concerned about people believing me, because I can hadly believe it myself. It's an insane story, because I SHOULD hate my sister now, I should never want to see her again, but I don't. She's my only sister, and I love her. I can never forgive her for what happened (Though I never told her that), but my life would be somewhat less whole without such a core family member in it. That's why I refused to believe it for so long. You see those after-school specials on sexual abuse, and the child involved always ends up afraid of the abuser, or hating them, but not me. If she'd never brought it up, I would have assumed it was my imagination flavoring my nightmares and keeping me from sleeping. I just want it all over with. Better yet, I want to erase the memories of it forever, so I can learn to trust people again.

I was reading a book on sexual abuse last night, and it said that one of the key symptoms is the inability to trust, and it hit me. I've always been a very untrusting person. I won't leave my valuables in the open around anyone, even close friends, and I can't ever trust them to do things right, even when I know they're capable and have proven themselves. It's the very reason I've never had many friends, and probably the reason I've never been in a relationship (And likely never will be).

It pains me that I fit into the mold so well. Humans are trained to think they're different, special even. It's like being told you're not exempt. I wish I was.
 
No. None of us is exempt. But, at the same time I do believe that we are each special, i.e., unique. Trust is difficult for me, but it has been worthwhile to work on slowly developing it. A few good friends are worth much more than lots of "acquaintances." And don't give up on the relationship angle. Sometimes, that happens when and where you might least expect it.
Have a great week.
Love, etc.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top