Triggers and How to Handle Them

Well this takes the cake as my parents give me a $32,000 2013 car. My father just turned 100 and my mother is 95 I think. I really don't know how to handle this. I shouldn't complain because in normal circumstances I should be very happy being given such a gift.

My father was able to drive till about late last summer until his hip didn't let him walk to the car. Now he wants to give me the car because he doesn't need it and he can get back money he paid in insurance premium for the year. Then he adds a but, I HAVE to take them wherever and whenever they need to go someplace such as a doctor's appointment or my mother going grocery shopping. Duh hey! I've been doing that since last year.

About 8 years ago I built an addition on my house specially for my parents to live and brought them up here so I could take care of them. They were supposed to pay for the addition with the money they made selling their condo. The market tanked just before they moved in. They told me that they couldn't pay me for the addition because if I lose my house because they won't have any money to live on. WTF, how about me where am I supposed to live without money. My house was mortgage free before building that fucken addition, now it cost me a couple of thousand dollars a month for those payments. My taxes also went from $6,000 to $14.000 because of that addition.

My mother was always the one to beat me, it was just a constant argument with her. and my father didn't pay any attention to what was going on. When I was 13 my mother started staying in Florida for the winters and my father went down for the weekends so I was the home alone kid, no brothers or sisters. During the summers they always went on cruises or around the world trips for a couple of months at a time, I was not invited.

It's not like my parents don't have money, they had 2 houses, 3 cars and I went to a high class private school. It was my parents money that got me through high school so I should be thankful for that. Money talked back in those day for graduating high school. I didn't even go to my own graduation, I know they didn't go. I was busy turning tricks. When I told my T what was going on a couple of years ago he asked me if I really thought that they would have changed over the years. I guess I hoped so since I really didn't live at home since I was 12-1/2 but rather I was with papasan turning tricks.

A lot of guys here are probably thinking that this was a nice present and I'm just ungrateful cry baby. But my wife and I each had a car. OK they weren't from this century and they did have between them over 300,000 miles and they weren't new when we got them, but it was all I could afford. Now I have to take a present that I didn't need and with a bunch of conditions along with it. I could go on and on but I would have liked to tell them to shove the car up their asses. I figure that since I brought them up here it costs me about $3,500 dollars a month more than before. Oh yeah, that doesn't include their utilities. I also lose work since I have to leave work early or late because they have to go somewhere.

Since this all went on yesterday he asked me today if I turned in his plates yet because he wants to get his refund. I told him no and he asked why. So I told him that my wife works till 8pm on Wednesdays and I had to leave early from work to take you both to the doctor. So he tells me again that as soon as he gets the receipt for his plates being turned in he can get his refund.

They didn't give me the car out of love and affection but it was a business deal shoved down my throat. My mother still claims she never wanted to move up here. She told me that for the first time when the moving truck was still being unloaded.

I started this post because I was upset and really triggered. I was hoping that I would just cool down by the time I finished this and I wouldn't post it, but at the moment I feel like stopping my anti drinking meds and just get shit faced. I should just get it through my thick head that they never cared about me and they never will.

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope
Hi ((((Jeff)))

I guess people don't change much. And that's really a shame, but I think you have shown time and time again that you are a better person than either of your parents. You are truly the adult in that relationship and you are dealing with children who have infantile needs, demands and egos.

It must be terribly, terribly frustrating having to deal with your parents and their selfishness. All I can say is that you are shining like a beacon in the darkness. You are a better son than they were parents. You really are a good man.
Hey NM

Yeah, Well my father is already yesterday asking me if I got a chance to hand in his plates so he could get back his $700 from the insurance company and I'll probably have to put up with that until I'm able to transfer the car to me and my wife.

I know one thing is that if I didn't bring them up here they both wouldn't be here. Today my father is 100 years old and the first time in my father's life that he'd been in a hospital was 5 years ago when he had his hip surgery. Lately he had a few bouts with losing blood and having to go into the hospital because of low blood count. But like his family physician said to him the other day when I took both my parents to the doctor "you only look old on paper". But my father never complained when he wasn't feeling well and never helped me. My mother is another case. She suffers from a multiple issues. She was always describing her issues as the worst in the world. She and her socialite friends would always compare illnesses. Now she zones out on pills. If this pill didn't work she would take something else until she was zombiated. The Rolling Stones put out a record called "Mother's Little Helper" which is my mother exactly with her multitudes of drugs she takes.

My mother complains all the time about how sick she is, as a matter of fact she complains about all the kids and grandkids and mostly about me. I also brought them up here so my kids could have grandparent and my grand kids could have great grandparents. But that didn't work out since everyone is afraid of my mother's tongue when she lashes out about another person behind their backs. My mother complained one time when one of my grandchildren took some candy from her pantry without asking permission. She told me look how there grandchild is bringing up their child to take without asking. I would have beat the crap out of him, As a matter of fact ma you did that to me.

Everything turned out bad since I brought them up here, I should have let them die in Florida. It's never a good scene whenever somebody goes to them. After I took them to the doctor on Wednesday, I held the door open from the car and gave her her walker and she tells me that I should live life while I can. But I have to stop buying extravagant stuff and wasting my money. When I built their apartment my part of the house was built in 1938 and has changed very little over the years. A couple of years ago a couple of my kids said that they are remodeling our main bathroom which had not be upgraded since it was built. It was nice that we found newspapers in the wall, a few 38 caliber bullets, acorns and a ruler, a regular time capsule from before WWII. That is my extravagant living.

My mother still treats me like shit just like when I was a kid except she would never lift a hand to me or hit me with a belt buckle. But now it's not only me that's suffering it's my kids and grandkids. She's just psychologically torturing everyone around her and that usually behind someone's back. I guess I had forgotten how I used to be left alone in a house while she was in Florida for the winter and my father there for the weekend, I was only 13 when that started. Or how my ass was sold in one way or another since I was 9 years old. Or how it costs me $1,000 a month for my T sessions and $225 for my shrink every couple of months. Then there are the meds.

Having had to take a $32,000 car for a present with all the conditions attached to that "present" had become a living hell for me. I was happy with my 20th century cars and as far as I'm concerned they could have shoved their car up their asses. All I have everyday from my mother is how I could have had a much better life if I had listened to her when I was a child. But since I didn't listen to her that's why I'm having such a hard time. Oh, I forgot to mention that the last job my mother had was as a secretary in the Brooklyn Navy Yard during WWII and my father hasn't worked since he was 62. They bought a condo about 38 years ago that cost them a half a million dollars back then so when they sold it the condo should have brought in a million if not more.

So my mother says to me these days "You see, you should have listened to me, I should have beaten the crap out of you when I was younger".

Dear mom,

You did beat the crap out of me when I was young with my father's 14 carat gold buckle belt, you were never around since I was 12-1/2 and yes look at me today. I have 6 beautiful unabused children and 13 grandchildren that were never abused and never left alone. Today you have me and my wife and your grandchildren within shouting distance from you in case you need something. So go fuck yourself for the life you gave me and my family.

Your fucken son

I always dreaded coming home from school as a kid and now I dread coming homing home from work.

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope
Hi Jeff.

I am so sorry that your parents are causing you such anguish. You absolutely do not deserve it and you do not deserve the abuse and neglect you suffered at their hands either. I am amazed at the inner goodness you possess to bring them up from Florida and take care of them when in all honesty you owe them nothing.

I have said this before, but your mother and mine could have been sisters. Mine too saw herself as a socialite, since my dad was an important guy at the company he worked for, she saw herself as Mrs. Vice President. She too popped pills, drank a lot, beat the shit out of me and did everything in her power to abuse me sexually and humiliate me at every possible occasion. I'm glad she's dead and I do not miss her.

I don't know what to suggest for your own peace with regards to your parents other than to offer my unconditional support and friendship. Please vent whenever you need to and remember to maintain the boundaries between you and those who are sucking you dry.
PS Jeff:

Your legacy is exactly as you stated it: Children who were not abused and left alone, and the same with grandchildren who also have loving homes.

That is something to be hugely proud of.
Hey NM

Thanks for the support. I remember you telling me once that our mother's could have been sisters. I lost a day of work today because of those fucken license plates. I could never have imagined that something so commonplace could send me so close to "over the edge". I took some Valium (maybe a little more than I should have) to calm down. They haven't yet taken effect but I guess they should kick in pretty soon. My shrink tells me that I should chew them up and put it under my tongue.

My mother was not my main problem like yours or many of the other guys here on MS since she was not always home to give me a problem after I turned 12-1/2. It has been on my mind for a couple of years why I don't remember my life before I was 9 years old. My T said I shouldn't dwell on it just now we can get into that at a later time. But what I do remember is getting enemas at least twice or more a week because I had problems with my stomach, probably from stress with her.

Whenever she is with any part of my family she always made a Ha Ha joke that when I was 3 years old I used to stand in front of tell her telling her I wanted to run to run away from home. She would get upset and chace me back into my room. To whomever that story was told had to laugh because it was supposed to be a funny happening when I was young.

Well I don't want to turn this thread into a blog. I just can sympathize with all the other guys who their main issues with a parent who were stuck with family shit as a constant everyday and night. I was lucky that starting around 12-1/2 I was starting to see less and less of my parents every day. I guess my mother was correct that I would amount to nothing because I never listened to her.

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope
yeah, my ass was worth $200 a pop back in the '60s. I also made it out of the movies alive. It's a great legacy to leave my family. But from the stories I hear about today I must have met some famous people back then also but even though I still cannot tell anyone even if I knew who they were. I don't remember my life before 9 years old and I can't tell anyone what I did - tricks, dates and drugs. Even in the USAF I have pictures of me and a dog living in my room in the barracks. We went downtown Newport News, Virginia to score some drugs. We brought the dealer who had more tracks on his body than Amtrak back onto the base of HQ Tactical Air Command. Three druggies with top secret security clearances. What happened to the dealer or the dog I don't know. My friend Craig had committed suicide by OD'ng in San Francisco at the age of 20. I don't know what happened to Bobby either. All he knew was how to turn tricks, he hadn't been in school since he ran away from home when he was 9 and his brother was 10-1/2. The stats say that kids like them died before the age 30. So as far as the world is concerned I didn't exist before the age of 24 when I left home and moved north where no one knew me or anything about me.

My first son was born when I was 30 and I was never able to play with him or the other 5 kids that came along. Now I have the same problem with my grandchildren. I was never able to walk on busy streets. I tried to do that in the village but I had to stop because there were too many kids on the streets.

since I fell apart in 2011 and my past came back to haunt me I would pray that i would just not get up in the morning. I just don't know how to handle my triggers anymore. My kids are all married except 2 who are both older than 26. I figure that it's time for me to get some rest.

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope
shit, I wish that car would go away or burn. I was waiting for the part where my mother expects me explode with joy upon the very expensive car that they lavished on me and start kissing her feet. she let it be known that if I had a brother he would have gotten the car because I don't deserve such a nice present.

I never really got presents when I was a kid and when I did I was expected to kiss her feet. My mother would always add "there are people in this world who are not as lucky as me and they have nothing". My mother would buy me shirts with ruffled cuffs so when I would meet her guests I would look "presentable" and not like an unkempt beggar boy.

It was very interesting that my parents took me to the same tailor that papasan took me to. It was in Hempstead, Long Island. But when I was with my parents I remember the tailor pulling at the crotch of my pants grabbing my junk. But he never did anything with or to me until papasan brought me in.

I don't know whether I'm right or wrong. Am I making a mountain out of a molehill or being ungrateful? She's just playing the same mind games like when I lived with her before I was 12-1/2.

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope
Jeff, I don't think you are either making a mountain out of a molehill or being ungrateful. I think your response is conditioned by the treatment your mother foisted upon you when you were younger -- and apparently continues to do so today. That your mother said she would have rather given the car to a non-existent brother is just pathetic. She is still trying to exert control over you and your emotions.

I don't know what to suggest about the car. Maybe after it is signed over to you, sell it and buy yourself something you'd really like.

She never grew up. You did. You are the adult in the relationship with your parents and they are the children.
Thanks blue

I don't think it's the car I have a problem with it's just that they live in their own world and they can't see that I shouldn't make time to to get my father a receipt for his plate so he can get his money back. He makes the conditions like I never helped them before. I've been driving them around since last summer. Never a thank you. I take time off from work so I lose money. And then they say that since they are giving me the car I have to take them around. Like hey, can't you even say thank you. It's not in their vocabulary. I should have left them in Florida and they would be dead by now.

Such a fucken little thing should overturn the whole house including my wife. We talk about triggers on this thread and I come up with something so fucken crazy to talk about. I feel like they have me on a leash. Not one fucken thank you since they came up here around 8 years ago.

I don't think we have to talk about this anymore. This thread is supposed to triggers and how we handle them. Well, I'm handling this pretty shitty. I appreciate everyone's concern but I think we should end this discussion, there really isn't anything to go over and over again and again.

I do appreciate everyone's help and concern but let's stop here.

Love you all

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope
I just wanted to thank everyone here for their help with this car shit. I finally have the car and what I was afraid of is happening, I am at their mercy by taking the car. I initially brought my parents up here so I could help them in their elderly years so I shouldn't really complain. The problem that I was afraid of was that by taking the car I was committed to take my parents anywhere and at anytime they want. I'm obligated to help them it negates to idea that I want to help them.

My father received $975 back from his insurance premium and he's giving it to me "just to help me out a little". My mother tried to stop the transaction but in but my father cut her short. This "cutting short" only once before when I was 12 and I was getting my usual enema after my bath. I wasn't allowed to take showers. I would lay naked on my back on my bed and she would plug the emema hose in my ass. her arm was always rubbing against my genitals holding the hose in my ass and of course I would always get an erection. She would then try and slap it down saying that I shouldn't think of such bad things. Well I must have leaked a little on her arm and she went ballistic. She pulled out the hose which had a plastic end and started hitting me with it. Of course I accidently exploded from everything she put in me all over my bed and carpet (probably on her too) as I ran I ran into the bathroom and held the door shut with with my back against the wall and my feet against the door sitting in my own shit. My father came up and cleaned my room while my mother screamed at him that he shouldn't do it and I should sleep in it, he cut her short. This was the only other time that my father came to to my rescue for me when my mother said no.

Well my mother, at least, thinks this $975 is a payment for future services. Today for instance I have to be home at 3pm to take her to a doctor and I usually work till 9pm so I lose 6 hours of work.

I guess I shouldn't complain because I brought them up here so I could help them. If they stayed down there they would both be dead by now. It's too bad my mother says she never wanted to come up here and is at odds with my entire family - they have her number.

I haven't really lived at home since I was 12-1/2 and I really figured that they would have changed but my mother will never change and my father will just sit there reading his book while my mother abuses me verbally. After all these years I feel like I'm 12-1/2 and I don't want to live with them anymore. She triggers me everyday, day in and day out. Not only do I not know how to handle her triggering me I don't think that I could avoid the abuse and triggers anyway.

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope

She was an abuser. She abused and mistreated you. You don't really owe her anything. Perhaps you can tell her to schedule her doctors and other appointments around YOUR schedule. You are the adult now in this relationship and she is the child.

Despite everything, you are a really good son and a really good man. You don't deserve the treatment you get from them.
The car is a catch 22 type of situation, damned if I do and damned if I don't. I have to mention that my father never hit me and as a matter of fact I've been trying to think of a time where he yelled at me but nothing pops up. I know that he was never in my life. Sounds great and probably is but he was never in my life and never interfered in any way with my mother's yelling, screaming and hitting. He had enough chances to intervene since it was a constant and daily argument with my mother. So I was quite taken aback when he said that he was giving me the refund money. I did hear my mother tell him that they needed the money but it seems that he ignored her. All I can say is WOW.

The only other time that I remembered that he stopped on of my mother's beatings was when I was 12. I was given an enema at least twice a week by my mother after a bath (I was not allowed to take a shower). After I would finish taking a bath she would come in and wash me herself with a rough washcloth and scrub away, since I could never do a decent job of it.

This turned into a ritual whenever I took a bath. I made myself wet by going under water and then just waited till my mother came in and washed me herself. At least twice a week I would also get an enema after my bath. I would have to lay naked on my back on my bed with my knees up in the air and my feet on the bed. This is so she could insert the hose of the enema bag into me. Her forearm would always lay on my stomach and in between my legs with her hand holding in the hose. Of course I would always get an erection and she would try and slap it down, OUCH. Having these erections is one reason I'm getting enemas. I tried to keep it down but I wasn't alway successful.

The very last time I got an enema was when I was 12 and I got an erection and I must have dribbled on her forearm and she went ballistic. She pulled the hose out of me and started hitting me with it (there was a plastic tip and metal clasp to stop the water. Well I blew everything that she put in me plus more stuff along with it all over my bed and the carpet (I hope her also). I ran into the bathroom leaking along the way, sat down on the floor with my feet against the door and my back up against the wall sitting in my own shit. She was in meltdown mode.

My father came upstairs, why this time and never any other time I'll never know. He told my mother in a low but strong voice to go downstairs. She went down but she was screaming and yelling at him telling him that he should not clean up in anyway and that I should live in it. (She actually listened to him, wow). He spent It seems like a few hours cleaning and washing the carpet and everything else outside the bathroom. By the time he finished the shit had already dried up on me since I was still holding the door shut with my feet. After he finished he told me in a low voice to clean up the bathroom and take a shower (wow, a shower). That night I told my parents that I was going to the city to practice judo but instead I went to papasan and he started cleaning my ass which was now full of pus pimples.

The deal was is that if I went into the Manhattan to practice judo then I would sleep (with) in papasan's apartment after practice and he would take me to school in the morning. By the time I entered a high class high school at 13 I was almost always in the city since the school that I went to was located in one of the cities boroughs. He even came and picked me up after school.

So the refund money that my father was getting back and giving to me was a real surprise to me. Why he did it now and wouldn't help me with the cost of his apartment which I built for them I don't know. Even though the new car came along with conditions it's nice to finally have a car that has A/C, heat, defroster, a pushbutton and not a screwdriver ignition and is not 20+ years old :grin:.

I'm sure that I should be grateful I just hope that it doesn't turn into a Trojan virus.

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope
My son is in NYU Medical Center in Manhattan for back surgery last Friday (which was very successful - he is able to walk again). I went to pick up my wife who stayed there overnight just to keep an eye on things. So I picked her up at around midnight and figured that this was a good time to take her to the west village and show her my old haunts. I showed her the apartment I shared with 3 other child prostitutes, I showed her Washington Square Park where I used to hang out and Christopher Street Park, where I was sold every once in a while, which is right across the street from the stonewall inn.

What I wasn't ready for is what was going on there at 1am in the morning. While we were driving in an air conditioned car with the windows rolled up past Union Square (14th street and Broadway) my wife said she smelled a skunk. I told her there were no skunks in Manhattan that's weed your smelling.

What I didn't expect is that the crowd looked the same as it did 50 years ago. The drag queens and the hookers trying to score a john. I was really triggered but I had to continue the tour so my wife could feel and see for herself the West Village scene where I spent so much time as a kid.

What was striking is the lack of boys for sale, I never saw a one. When I hung out across the street from the stonewall inn in Christopher Park there were many boys roaming around the street looking for their next date. By the time my tour of the west village I was a total wreck. I didn't want to show that I was really taken aback by what I just went through. I took some meds and it helped calm me down. My wife had never seen a scene like what went on in the Village. and I hadn't seen it since I was a kid. All though she tried talking to me on the way home I don't think that I was able to talk at all.

I started out wanting to put a face to the village scene and ended up seeing and showing reruns of my life in the village. The whole experience really shook me to the core. It's still bothering me, I never thought that I would see that scene again, maybe I'm still naive in that I didn't think it existed anymore.

The lack of seeing that there were no kids on the street looking for dates is really amazing. But back in the '60s you had no problem finding a kid on the street to bed down for the night or an hour.

I'm still trying to catch my breath and still at a loss on how to come back down to earth after what I saw :crazy:.

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope


Hi Jeff,

how are you doing? How have you been calming down from this very triggering episode? The trip through the village that you took with your wife was clearly very difficult and brave of you. Perhaps, aside from the horrible triggers, you can feel a bit happy or more at ease to think about the good that came out of this trip: you saw that there weren't any children working the streets and you gave your wife a great insight into your past and what has been haunting you. Very few people are able to give their loved ones and supporters exactly such insights into the abuse they went through.

I find it so disheartening though to think about what went on, what you experienced, and what is still going on all throughout the world in terms of the sexual exploitation of children (as well as adults). It is mind boggling really. I wonder if there was a particular effort from NYC law enforcement to stamp out this ring of child exploitation in the village or if the reduced numbers of children working the streets is due to changes in societal attitudes, gentrification, or just the fact that people have other means in which to find children.

I wish I could go back in time and rescue you and the other kids from that torture you all went through. Lately I have been feeling a little triggered (but it is relatively under control) about my own sexual turn ons (which are often about an older man taking control of me) and certain forms of porn which are really reminiscent of abuse. I guess I should also remember to save myself every once in a while because I still very much am that child being abused. Maybe that is something for us to think about today- there is still that child being abused inside us and our adult selves need to step in and save him.

Take care and I wish you a pleasant, peaceful week!
Hey JayBro

Thanks for the offer of saving me.

I haven't been in the Village on a Saturday night in over 40 years. The hustle and bustle is looks the same as 40-50 years ago except you didn't see the kid hustling on the streets. I drove past some of my old haunts when kids used to hang out looking for johns. I guess the city really got down on picking kids up if they find them in such situations or are doing a really good job of stopping it. Now you'll find more underage girls on the streets but they look like they're 20 and not 14. In the '60s when I was in the village you could buy boy magazines which was deemed porn by the end of the '60s but then went underground. Today all you need is a web connection and you'll find my pictures. As for the magazines I and my friends ended up in many of the pictures. I know that there were thousands of pictures taken of me over the 10 years I was there. And I'm sure that you can find the movies I was in someplace on the web along with the raunchy pictures taken of me.

I found the drive through pretty triggering to the extent that it was hard to tell her what was going on there. To her it looked like an invasion from Mars. It was an eye opener for me too. It hasn't changed one bit aside from young boys and girls that looked really young.

When I was in the village I think us kids were being taken care of by a higher power (mafia) that ruled the village, the bars and the police to a great extent. I would usually get a billy club across my ass if some cop wanted me to move on. One even grabbed my arm threatening me with arrest and being sent to juvenile custody. After he had dragged me for a little ways I was able to tear myself away from him but I really think he had no intention of taking me to the police station. He only wanted to scare me. Me and my friend Bobby would go panhandling not that we needed the money, we made enough from the tips we got from the johns. But it was fun and we would score some dope, speed or just plain old grass. But we had fun blending in with the college kids getting stoned and shitfaced sitting up against a building. The college kids would make fun of us sitting against a wall all spaced out but we had the most fun because it didn't cost us a dime to get that way. We would always get money, weed or hash to smoke so we had the last laugh. That was the nice part of the village, there was a bad part to it that is really fucking up my head.

One funny thing I look back on is when we were in our apartment in the summer we used to sleep on the fire escape since we didn't have air conditioning. Some college kids would come along with their girlfriends. We were on the first floor up laying down on our blankets laying in wait for someone to come along. When they did come along we would stand up naked (12 year olds) on the fire escape. They would start making fun of us and we just started peeing on them. Then we ran back into the apartment. :grin:

It is too bad there weren't enough good times as compared to bad times. Like being pimped out to john's or being taken to parties to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. The year I was in the movies was pure torture, there wasn't anything good about it. It was all about screaming, crying and bleeding. I did my first john at 12 years old. From the age of 9 I along with a friend that lived across the street from my parents used to have our pictures taken by his sister and her girlfriend. Their boyfriends would come along and have their dogs fuck us. The girls tried to stop them but they were just pushed out of the way.

I hear what your saying about the inner child. Mine has cost me a childhood of porn and then for the past 40 years having to hide that from the world. I will either destroy him or he'll destroy me. I really don't think that we both can live in the same body. I'm 64 and I have a feeling I'm going to lose this battle.

Thanks for your interest in me and the kind words. I find, like many people tell me, the first part to healing is being able to talk about your past which is your inner child. I'm trying but so far I'm at odds with my childhood.

I wish the best for you, it seems that you have come a long way in recognizing your inner child. I was never really able to understand what is called "my inner child". All I know is that me as a kid was not a very nice kid. Me and my friends would shoplift, usually glue or cigarettes. Back then you could only buy glue if you bought a plastic model. So me and my friend would buy a model while I pinched more glue from the shelf. I think that as a kid in the 60's to walk around with 20 dollars in his pocket was a lot more than some of the college kids would have.

Anyway I'm talking too much. I'm happy to hear some very positive words from you and the way you are handling your past and today's triggers. Thanks so much for your kind words

Thanks so much for writing

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope
I hate to cry to you guys so much but I'm a fucken idiot. I triggered myself horribly these past few hours by watching Youtube video of kids with cancer.

I just read a story on CNN where the nurses, kids with cancer, doctors and other people working in a children's cancer hospital make a mob type of lip sync video to help children with cancer stay positive and help them through tough times. I cried and cried and thought to myself how unfair it was for those kids to suffer like that so early in their lives. Never having a chance to have a normal childlife.

I then went to youtube to watch more of those videos. I started to beat myself up again with the horrific things I forced to do to young kids. This is my own form of cancer that I will one day die of. going back to my own cancer and how I was forced to spread it with what I did to those kids in the movies. I helped destroy them with a cancer called child porn and abuse. And as you can see that all of us when we were kids who were exposed to a cancer called CSA are now coming down with horrible symptoms of the disease I helped spread. I just kept watching video after video. This all happened over the last couple of hours.

I wanted to finish a PM to a close friend but I looked at the news like I usually do when I sit down at the computer and that started me watching video after video of kids with cancer. It seems that I just can't get away from those kids I had to infect.

Then my mind goes to all you guys who are suffering from this cancer called CSA. I can't wrap my brain around how I could be forced at 14 years old to spread this disease to kids as young as 6 (only an estimate).

I really fucked myself up over the past few hours and I can't shake it. I'm now standing up to my neck in shit of what I had to do to those kids.

I will have to go through the kid shit when I see my T this coming Monday. It seems my pain will never go away and I deserve it. It's not reason enough to say that I was scared of what would happen to me for what I was forced to do. Those kids were not scared they were terrified. I was only thinking of myself and not of anybody else. But I only want to find a way that I could be forgiven for what I was forced to do so many years ago.

I just feel like a fucken shitty turd. I'm sorry. Sorry for blabbering.

Peace, Rainbows, Love, Healing & Hope


Hey Jeff,

I just read your message now and I wanted to thank you for sharing your pain and feelings with us. It was certainly not easy. This is something many of us can relate to: feelings of guilt and grieving over this guilt/lost innocence. In many ways, it can be a deflection of our anger with those who caused us suffering onto ourselves. How many CSA survivors blame themselves for not protecting themselves, protecting others who were also abused along with them, for protecting their abusers, for (still) feeling "attracted" to the abuse and the sexual stimulation, and for having unintentionally hurt others? I have a friend who I met in a men's CSA recovery group and he is angry at his child self for exposing his younger brother to their abuser. He can never seem to forgive himself for this and he has struggled with many self-destructive behaviours as an adult.

But you know what: this was not your fault. You were a victim of horrible crimes and you were being used and manipulated. You did not know any better. As an adult, you do not continue to harm children and others- what you "did" was not "you". You need to learn to forgive your child self. Think of it this way: if you could save a child today who was being abused like you were and you found out that he had been used to recruit other victims, would you drop him like a hot potato with disgust? I highly doubt it. No, instead you would embrace him with love and kindness and not hold any grudge at him for what he was forced to do.

14 is an age where people are still children and can still be manipulated. Why do you think that the general age of adulthood is 18? Why is pornography featuring persons under 18 years of age illegal? Because people under that age simply cannot make fully competent and consenting decisions regarding sex.

Being sexualised and abused at such a young age has damaging consequences for children, you included. Going back to your cancer metaphor, a child with cancer will be going to hospitals, having medical procedures, experiencing pain and symptoms that they shouldn't be experiencing until old age, and they are missing out on a normal childhood. The same can be said of CSA survivors: as children, they have been exposed to something completely unnatural for their age and of course it messes with their brains.

I do not want to scold you for blaming yourself and feeling this guilt. I do that too sometimes and often I expose to myself to further triggers, particularly when I am already quite triggered and feeling vulnerable. I still have memories of stuff I was exposed to as a child and young teen when I was being abused. We were thrusted into this dark underworld and as kids we simply didn't know any better.

What could you do to help make yourself feel better? Could you write letters to those you feel guilty for without sending it to them? Could you discuss these memories and emotions with trusted individuals or write them down? Could you even do some sort of humanitarian work or think about the progress you have made and the good things you have done in your life and focus your energies there instead?

Writing on here is certainly a start. You're not alone, Jeff. I too was dealing with guilt and anxiety today and that's why I came on here. Please take care of yourself...!