Too much abuse... no life skills
bountiful1
Registrant
I have never had an oportunity to tell my whole story, except in private therapy. I would like to post it here, so I think I'll give it a try.
When I was 7 years old, we had a family relative come to visit us. Late one night I was awoken, sat up in my bed, and had a man put himself in my throat until he was "spent".
The next day there is one fact I can remember very clearly. Everyone was laughing and talking in our driveway as our guest was getting ready to leave. I was standing in the driveway; laughing at appropriate moments, smiling whenever I could, but I was not there. I remember this fact very clearly. My body was there, but nothing going on around me was real or touched me. My body was there, but I was seeing everything like my face was pressed up against the TV or a movie screen. The fact was that my body was ther but my inner self was not.
I had always been a "gifted" child. "Teachers favorite". Until the fall after that first instance of abuse. The fall I entered second grade I began to fail everything in school. Math, reading, english; everything. I also began to act angrilly when a teacher would not let me go to the bathroom. My parents were called in to see the teacher every every second week or so. All was brushed under the rug, with the assumtion that I would get better. At home I was refered to as an idiot when I asked for help with my home work. I was told that "any idiot could do it". The problem might be done by my mother, but I was never taught how to do the problems. My parents were very prominent in the community; best friends with the principal, and, because of that, I was passed from grade 2 to grade 3 and so on. By the time I reached grade 5 I was put in remedial classes, where I could not understand anything. Along with being continually refered to as an idiot, I was also told that "I just wasn't trying". This was a falacy, because I was trying so hard to "get it". I wanted so badly to understand what was being taught to me, I worked like a dog to try and learn. I listened really hard. I tried out what they said to do really hard. Everything that was said to me never got through to me. (The abuse created and ensured that). I tried so hard to understand what wasa being taught ot me, but had been rendered unable to let school get into me. That along with the constant beratingfrom my parents and siblings doubled up my inability to understand anything that was taught to me.
I wanted my parents to liek me, so I tried really hard in school. The only other thing that was celebrated in my family was excellence in sports. becuase of hightened startle response I had as a result of teh abusive actions done to me, I would get frightened, cringe, and then make a last ditch attempt a hitting or kicking a baal that was coming at me. By the time I got over the shock of soemthing coming at me, I never was able to hit or catch a ball. I was an "embarassment" to my parenst in sprots and fodder for laughter in the family. Luckily I was put in figure skating to learn how to skate for hockey.
I began to excell at skating very quickly, and was kept in the sport as I began winning many competitions. I worked like a dog at skating, because I finally had something I did that wasn't fodder for ridicule. (my siblings used to ridcule me for not knowing how to pronounce words. Nothing was done by my parenst to help me in my continual failure at school).
I was sent to the big city for summer training in skating. I was 11 years old. One day I forgot my bus fare, and tried to walk home. I was picked up[ by a man in his car, shown pornography, and helped him get off. When he promptly dropped me off after he was done, I thanked him very much for the ride. That year I began failing even more in school. By the time I reached grade 8, my teachers began to ridicule me as well. My french teacher refered to me as a "scatter brain" in front of teh class. My english teaher calle me a "faggot" in front of my class. I continued to try very hard to learn by listening and attending, but everything that was said I forgot within a minute of it having been said. (I still have this to this day. I forget almost everything I have read or heard or seen almost immediately after it happens).
I continued to be sent to teh big city for summer skating. The next year our family went to teh new swimming pool in teh big city. A man followed me for abotu 45 minutes. Graabed me in the shower, dragged me into a bathroon stall, sexually abused me, then threw me out of the door. Adults saw me flowndering around. No one did anything. This was the first time I had an orgasm. He asked me when this was going to happen. I told him I didn't think I could, the I thought my legs were going to fall off. I wa vbiolently shaking. I thoght my legs would fall off.
A year after that I was sent down to the big city to train full time. I failed evrything in school again. teachers then began to take a little pity on me. I would be given one paper to write, and that woudl be my grade for the year. (This added to the fact that I was not being given an education. - Other than that I was a faggot. An idiot. Just not trying. Wierd. These were all coments coming from adults. No teacher or parent ensured that I was learning anything.
That year I rommed with my skating teachers best friend. My teacher would drive me home at the end of the day. He would refer to his stick shift as looking like a penis. The ball on teh end was a big head of a penis. Everything was abotu gay sex. He would take me to his hotel room that he lived ion to "change", and he would parade himself in front of me in teh nude or his underrwear. he aould fondle himself, and tell me that it was alright to be bi-sexuall. he would teel teh woman I was living with that he took me home totalk aboutmy schoolwork. When she would go to visit her mother, my teacher woudl come over to baby sit me for the weekend. he would wear skimpy shorts and ahveme masage him. he would massage me. Once he was "done" his eyes glazed over and I was of no more use. He would pull teh blinds to "keep teh apartment cool".
This went on for the whole skating season. I won many competitions that year, but failed at one. My parenst were furious. I had benn begging them for months to let me change coaches, but they wouldn't until that spring.
At one of teh competitions that eyar, one of his friends followed me into teh washroom; pushed me into a stall and felated me, telling me not to tell anyone. My coach berated me about that for months. He told me "he'd told his friend he could have me".
He ususally came over to hang otu and drink with the woman I lived with. Whenever sahe would leave teh room he would grope me, or make huge physical gestures with his body. he would also verbally ridicule me and tell me that he "would tell her all about my bad behavior".
I beagn leaving the house on weekends. I couldn't take being at home when he woudl come over. Men followed me a lot when I would go downtown. I was 15 years old. I was very small for my age. Skinny figure skater. Couples would ask me to go home with them. Men would follow me into bathrooms, around malls, to teh movies. It seemed unending. I was still failing everything in school. Teachers would pass me if I promised never to take that subject again. I had no idea why I wasn't learning anything. As I said, I worked like a dog, but nothing ever stayed in my mind for more than a few seconds - no matter how hard I tried. No parent or teacher tried to solve the rpoblem or to make sure that I learned anything.
One day I was downtown, and a group of young twenty year olds to twent-five year olds followed me into a bathroom at teh downtown outdoor rink. They pushed me in the corner, held my in closed space and got off all over me. They left me to "clean up". Another time three guys "befriended me". Thsy hung out with me. Bought me lunch and some jeans. Told me that I was their friend. Took me around all day, and spent a lot of time and money on me. At the end of the day, they took me to a place to "hang out". It was in teh back of a local hotel. They really were very nice to me, and I really believed them when they told me they "liked me" and that I "was a great guy", and a "very beautiful guy". I really believed that they liked me a lot. When we got to that place, they wanted to fool around. That was nothing new to me. Almost every man I'd ever met wanted to have sex. One of them went away. The others were very friendly and kind and nice to me. Sexy too. The other guy came back with about 12 other men, and they all "had me". Each man got off on me or by me, and then they left. The guys took money from them. It seemed like a frenzy kind of party type thing, and I was the main attraction. After they were all done, One guy walked me to the bus. I really thought he liked me a lot. It never occured to me that what they were doing was not okay. They were adults, and adults knew what they were doing. Adults were in charge. Adults knew what was right and wrong, so it never crossed my mind that all of this was not okay and morally wrong.
I continued to excell as an athleet. Despite the fatc that I was never actually present again at school or at teh rink. I worked like a dog, and I did very well. It never crossedd my mind that I woudl win or olose. It never crossed my mind that I would land a jump or fall. I felt absolutely nothing. I had no feelings whatsoever in relation to myself. (Once I broke my arm, looked at the bone stcking otu of my srm, and the blood everywhere, and walked slowly and calmly to teh nursed office. I falt absoluetly nothing). I began to be ridiculed even more at school. Not just for being an idiot, but also for being stupid as well as gay, and a "mrorn". (My teachers were quite often the instgators of verbal ridicule at me). I knew thjat I did not belong anywhere. I told one of my teachers when she asked me why I was "such a wierdo" that i was from Mars. Real people couldn't possibly be like me. I was fodder for verbal abuse from teachers and friends at school. I was fodder fro verbal abuse at hoem and from my friends parenst at teh rink. I was sexual fodder for almost every man I met when I was alone. Life guards began taking a fancy to me. Mt father noticed this one day and put it up to hi vying for the girls. My mother saw a note a stranger had attached to the car seeking sex and thought this was something to be greatly flatered about.
What I knew to be true when I entered adulthood was that anyone could do whatveer they wanted to me without consideration for how it might make me feel. I was not worth having as a friend or even to spend time with except as a really hot thing to have sex with.
When I went into adult school, I had no idea at all that I was not living a normal life. People could do whatever they wanted to me
with no consideration for how it might make me feel, or what effect their actions would ahve on me. I felt nothing. Anyone could do anything they wanted to and with me and I had no reason to believe that I had a right ot be treated with any concern fo my self or my well being.
I lived like that for the next 15 years until I started sleeping only 2 hours each night. Nothing had changed. I Nothing had happened to me to teahc me that other people weren't lvivng exactly the same way I was. Based on everything I knew, people could abuse me for sex, ignore my needs, not include me, deride and dimminish me. This was all I knew of life. I never encountered any thing or person in my life that taught me lfie was anything other than people doing whatever they wanted to and around me with no consideration for how ot might make me feel or how it might hurt or affect me. I though that everybody lived like that. Nothing had taught me otherwise.
Now I know that people are actually entitled to be treated with consideration for how one's behavior might affect/effect them. Each person is entitled to live in safety and with kindness. \\I now have no idea how to begin living. Some have told me that "I do live". I "get out of bed, I eat, I work, I have a car.." Life HAS to have some kind of experience along with mere tasks. If walking down the street is living, then I am living. But if experienceing things as I move through space and time is not a part of life, then I see no need to do it. I would like ot have feelings attached to tasks. I don't want ot become one of tehse carcass people who do not respond emotionally to life. A life without feeling is the life of a computer. I have never had addictions. I have had a successful career. I just never thought or more importantly felt that anything was wrong with all of the use, neglect, and abuse. By some luck, I stumbled into a career that does not need any (or more than 3-5%) intellectual input. My career requires me to be able to do teh actions of another and feel the feelings that would be universally felt having lived exavtly in that life. But now I have begun to see that people do have others to be with and confide in and lean on.
In my early therapy, as I had no overt problems to work out. (no addictions. No difficulty with getting work. Very succesful athlete and in my work). I worked very well. I didn't know that I could be treated well. As I had no big issues,I
w
as told very quickly to confide in one trusted friend and one trusted family member. I wrote to my sister for a year , and heard nothing from her. When I saw her I asked her why she hadn't said anything; she told me that "she didn;t think it needed a response". (more abuse). My firend just ended up beinmg too involved in only her self that she couldn't do anyhthing else. I ahve since not confided in anyone. My mother told me to shut up about it already - after I'd told her a few times. My family have all turmed thei backs on me. They say that my life problems are my own fault and that I can't blame any of it on the 41 abusers.
I have never talked to people except to be very nice. We were brought up to never talk about our problems. To just keep it to ourselves. I did that very very well for 25 years after the first abuse. Then I couldn't sleep. And only then did I realize that people have friends and companions. I never felt like I was worthless or bad or ashamed. I knew as a point of fact that I was not worth considering when doing things to me. (including the doing of saying unkind things).
There is much more abuse but I got to most of it. Sorry for the spelling and grammar. I have learned one thing though - from all of this... If a person expects me to spell correctly or remember their name, or fit into some kind of accepted status quo, I know that they are not people I would want ot spend time with. (My teachers would be mortified if I used one ounce of energy on trivialities when soemthing very emotional could be missed). Also, I am not my name. And I could care a less if someone spells something right or not. I am glad that my therapist told me to name people who are unkind to me by calling them a bitch or prick. (I am sorry I told my sister about that. She said my therapist must be a Jew.) I am at a loss as to why a person lives. And it has never crossed my mind that I might have a want. I ahve always had a lot of pride in what I have done and do. I experienced none of it. I felt the same when I lost a competition as when i won the national champpionships. I feel the same when I don't get a job as when I do. I guess I am ashemed, but this is one of teh htings I don't understand about therapy. I am asked if I have a heightened startle response. (I know no other response than my own). I am asked if I am lonely. (I know no other sense of being other than my own). I am asked if I feel ashamed. (I have never felt anything other than what I have always felt).
All I have known to be true is that I am to be treated with no consideration for how it might make me feel or how it might effect me. That is all I learned through life. AS a result of the acts done to me, I don't experience things when they are done to me or in front of me.
Confused I guess.
I hope I didn't lose track. If I did, it can be expected. I know no other way of thinking.
I don't understand what those faces are for. I ahve never chatted on a computer. I fear that people might not be honest (read good).
When I was 7 years old, we had a family relative come to visit us. Late one night I was awoken, sat up in my bed, and had a man put himself in my throat until he was "spent".
The next day there is one fact I can remember very clearly. Everyone was laughing and talking in our driveway as our guest was getting ready to leave. I was standing in the driveway; laughing at appropriate moments, smiling whenever I could, but I was not there. I remember this fact very clearly. My body was there, but nothing going on around me was real or touched me. My body was there, but I was seeing everything like my face was pressed up against the TV or a movie screen. The fact was that my body was ther but my inner self was not.
I had always been a "gifted" child. "Teachers favorite". Until the fall after that first instance of abuse. The fall I entered second grade I began to fail everything in school. Math, reading, english; everything. I also began to act angrilly when a teacher would not let me go to the bathroom. My parents were called in to see the teacher every every second week or so. All was brushed under the rug, with the assumtion that I would get better. At home I was refered to as an idiot when I asked for help with my home work. I was told that "any idiot could do it". The problem might be done by my mother, but I was never taught how to do the problems. My parents were very prominent in the community; best friends with the principal, and, because of that, I was passed from grade 2 to grade 3 and so on. By the time I reached grade 5 I was put in remedial classes, where I could not understand anything. Along with being continually refered to as an idiot, I was also told that "I just wasn't trying". This was a falacy, because I was trying so hard to "get it". I wanted so badly to understand what was being taught to me, I worked like a dog to try and learn. I listened really hard. I tried out what they said to do really hard. Everything that was said to me never got through to me. (The abuse created and ensured that). I tried so hard to understand what wasa being taught ot me, but had been rendered unable to let school get into me. That along with the constant beratingfrom my parents and siblings doubled up my inability to understand anything that was taught to me.
I wanted my parents to liek me, so I tried really hard in school. The only other thing that was celebrated in my family was excellence in sports. becuase of hightened startle response I had as a result of teh abusive actions done to me, I would get frightened, cringe, and then make a last ditch attempt a hitting or kicking a baal that was coming at me. By the time I got over the shock of soemthing coming at me, I never was able to hit or catch a ball. I was an "embarassment" to my parenst in sprots and fodder for laughter in the family. Luckily I was put in figure skating to learn how to skate for hockey.
I began to excell at skating very quickly, and was kept in the sport as I began winning many competitions. I worked like a dog at skating, because I finally had something I did that wasn't fodder for ridicule. (my siblings used to ridcule me for not knowing how to pronounce words. Nothing was done by my parenst to help me in my continual failure at school).
I was sent to the big city for summer training in skating. I was 11 years old. One day I forgot my bus fare, and tried to walk home. I was picked up[ by a man in his car, shown pornography, and helped him get off. When he promptly dropped me off after he was done, I thanked him very much for the ride. That year I began failing even more in school. By the time I reached grade 8, my teachers began to ridicule me as well. My french teacher refered to me as a "scatter brain" in front of teh class. My english teaher calle me a "faggot" in front of my class. I continued to try very hard to learn by listening and attending, but everything that was said I forgot within a minute of it having been said. (I still have this to this day. I forget almost everything I have read or heard or seen almost immediately after it happens).
I continued to be sent to teh big city for summer skating. The next year our family went to teh new swimming pool in teh big city. A man followed me for abotu 45 minutes. Graabed me in the shower, dragged me into a bathroon stall, sexually abused me, then threw me out of the door. Adults saw me flowndering around. No one did anything. This was the first time I had an orgasm. He asked me when this was going to happen. I told him I didn't think I could, the I thought my legs were going to fall off. I wa vbiolently shaking. I thoght my legs would fall off.
A year after that I was sent down to the big city to train full time. I failed evrything in school again. teachers then began to take a little pity on me. I would be given one paper to write, and that woudl be my grade for the year. (This added to the fact that I was not being given an education. - Other than that I was a faggot. An idiot. Just not trying. Wierd. These were all coments coming from adults. No teacher or parent ensured that I was learning anything.
That year I rommed with my skating teachers best friend. My teacher would drive me home at the end of the day. He would refer to his stick shift as looking like a penis. The ball on teh end was a big head of a penis. Everything was abotu gay sex. He would take me to his hotel room that he lived ion to "change", and he would parade himself in front of me in teh nude or his underrwear. he aould fondle himself, and tell me that it was alright to be bi-sexuall. he would teel teh woman I was living with that he took me home totalk aboutmy schoolwork. When she would go to visit her mother, my teacher woudl come over to baby sit me for the weekend. he would wear skimpy shorts and ahveme masage him. he would massage me. Once he was "done" his eyes glazed over and I was of no more use. He would pull teh blinds to "keep teh apartment cool".
This went on for the whole skating season. I won many competitions that year, but failed at one. My parenst were furious. I had benn begging them for months to let me change coaches, but they wouldn't until that spring.
At one of teh competitions that eyar, one of his friends followed me into teh washroom; pushed me into a stall and felated me, telling me not to tell anyone. My coach berated me about that for months. He told me "he'd told his friend he could have me".
He ususally came over to hang otu and drink with the woman I lived with. Whenever sahe would leave teh room he would grope me, or make huge physical gestures with his body. he would also verbally ridicule me and tell me that he "would tell her all about my bad behavior".
I beagn leaving the house on weekends. I couldn't take being at home when he woudl come over. Men followed me a lot when I would go downtown. I was 15 years old. I was very small for my age. Skinny figure skater. Couples would ask me to go home with them. Men would follow me into bathrooms, around malls, to teh movies. It seemed unending. I was still failing everything in school. Teachers would pass me if I promised never to take that subject again. I had no idea why I wasn't learning anything. As I said, I worked like a dog, but nothing ever stayed in my mind for more than a few seconds - no matter how hard I tried. No parent or teacher tried to solve the rpoblem or to make sure that I learned anything.
One day I was downtown, and a group of young twenty year olds to twent-five year olds followed me into a bathroom at teh downtown outdoor rink. They pushed me in the corner, held my in closed space and got off all over me. They left me to "clean up". Another time three guys "befriended me". Thsy hung out with me. Bought me lunch and some jeans. Told me that I was their friend. Took me around all day, and spent a lot of time and money on me. At the end of the day, they took me to a place to "hang out". It was in teh back of a local hotel. They really were very nice to me, and I really believed them when they told me they "liked me" and that I "was a great guy", and a "very beautiful guy". I really believed that they liked me a lot. When we got to that place, they wanted to fool around. That was nothing new to me. Almost every man I'd ever met wanted to have sex. One of them went away. The others were very friendly and kind and nice to me. Sexy too. The other guy came back with about 12 other men, and they all "had me". Each man got off on me or by me, and then they left. The guys took money from them. It seemed like a frenzy kind of party type thing, and I was the main attraction. After they were all done, One guy walked me to the bus. I really thought he liked me a lot. It never occured to me that what they were doing was not okay. They were adults, and adults knew what they were doing. Adults were in charge. Adults knew what was right and wrong, so it never crossed my mind that all of this was not okay and morally wrong.
I continued to excell as an athleet. Despite the fatc that I was never actually present again at school or at teh rink. I worked like a dog, and I did very well. It never crossedd my mind that I woudl win or olose. It never crossed my mind that I would land a jump or fall. I felt absolutely nothing. I had no feelings whatsoever in relation to myself. (Once I broke my arm, looked at the bone stcking otu of my srm, and the blood everywhere, and walked slowly and calmly to teh nursed office. I falt absoluetly nothing). I began to be ridiculed even more at school. Not just for being an idiot, but also for being stupid as well as gay, and a "mrorn". (My teachers were quite often the instgators of verbal ridicule at me). I knew thjat I did not belong anywhere. I told one of my teachers when she asked me why I was "such a wierdo" that i was from Mars. Real people couldn't possibly be like me. I was fodder for verbal abuse from teachers and friends at school. I was fodder fro verbal abuse at hoem and from my friends parenst at teh rink. I was sexual fodder for almost every man I met when I was alone. Life guards began taking a fancy to me. Mt father noticed this one day and put it up to hi vying for the girls. My mother saw a note a stranger had attached to the car seeking sex and thought this was something to be greatly flatered about.
What I knew to be true when I entered adulthood was that anyone could do whatveer they wanted to me without consideration for how it might make me feel. I was not worth having as a friend or even to spend time with except as a really hot thing to have sex with.
When I went into adult school, I had no idea at all that I was not living a normal life. People could do whatever they wanted to me
with no consideration for how it might make me feel, or what effect their actions would ahve on me. I felt nothing. Anyone could do anything they wanted to and with me and I had no reason to believe that I had a right ot be treated with any concern fo my self or my well being.
I lived like that for the next 15 years until I started sleeping only 2 hours each night. Nothing had changed. I Nothing had happened to me to teahc me that other people weren't lvivng exactly the same way I was. Based on everything I knew, people could abuse me for sex, ignore my needs, not include me, deride and dimminish me. This was all I knew of life. I never encountered any thing or person in my life that taught me lfie was anything other than people doing whatever they wanted to and around me with no consideration for how ot might make me feel or how it might hurt or affect me. I though that everybody lived like that. Nothing had taught me otherwise.
Now I know that people are actually entitled to be treated with consideration for how one's behavior might affect/effect them. Each person is entitled to live in safety and with kindness. \\I now have no idea how to begin living. Some have told me that "I do live". I "get out of bed, I eat, I work, I have a car.." Life HAS to have some kind of experience along with mere tasks. If walking down the street is living, then I am living. But if experienceing things as I move through space and time is not a part of life, then I see no need to do it. I would like ot have feelings attached to tasks. I don't want ot become one of tehse carcass people who do not respond emotionally to life. A life without feeling is the life of a computer. I have never had addictions. I have had a successful career. I just never thought or more importantly felt that anything was wrong with all of the use, neglect, and abuse. By some luck, I stumbled into a career that does not need any (or more than 3-5%) intellectual input. My career requires me to be able to do teh actions of another and feel the feelings that would be universally felt having lived exavtly in that life. But now I have begun to see that people do have others to be with and confide in and lean on.
In my early therapy, as I had no overt problems to work out. (no addictions. No difficulty with getting work. Very succesful athlete and in my work). I worked very well. I didn't know that I could be treated well. As I had no big issues,I
w
as told very quickly to confide in one trusted friend and one trusted family member. I wrote to my sister for a year , and heard nothing from her. When I saw her I asked her why she hadn't said anything; she told me that "she didn;t think it needed a response". (more abuse). My firend just ended up beinmg too involved in only her self that she couldn't do anyhthing else. I ahve since not confided in anyone. My mother told me to shut up about it already - after I'd told her a few times. My family have all turmed thei backs on me. They say that my life problems are my own fault and that I can't blame any of it on the 41 abusers.
I have never talked to people except to be very nice. We were brought up to never talk about our problems. To just keep it to ourselves. I did that very very well for 25 years after the first abuse. Then I couldn't sleep. And only then did I realize that people have friends and companions. I never felt like I was worthless or bad or ashamed. I knew as a point of fact that I was not worth considering when doing things to me. (including the doing of saying unkind things).
There is much more abuse but I got to most of it. Sorry for the spelling and grammar. I have learned one thing though - from all of this... If a person expects me to spell correctly or remember their name, or fit into some kind of accepted status quo, I know that they are not people I would want ot spend time with. (My teachers would be mortified if I used one ounce of energy on trivialities when soemthing very emotional could be missed). Also, I am not my name. And I could care a less if someone spells something right or not. I am glad that my therapist told me to name people who are unkind to me by calling them a bitch or prick. (I am sorry I told my sister about that. She said my therapist must be a Jew.) I am at a loss as to why a person lives. And it has never crossed my mind that I might have a want. I ahve always had a lot of pride in what I have done and do. I experienced none of it. I felt the same when I lost a competition as when i won the national champpionships. I feel the same when I don't get a job as when I do. I guess I am ashemed, but this is one of teh htings I don't understand about therapy. I am asked if I have a heightened startle response. (I know no other response than my own). I am asked if I am lonely. (I know no other sense of being other than my own). I am asked if I feel ashamed. (I have never felt anything other than what I have always felt).
All I have known to be true is that I am to be treated with no consideration for how it might make me feel or how it might effect me. That is all I learned through life. AS a result of the acts done to me, I don't experience things when they are done to me or in front of me.
Confused I guess.
I hope I didn't lose track. If I did, it can be expected. I know no other way of thinking.
I don't understand what those faces are for. I ahve never chatted on a computer. I fear that people might not be honest (read good).