what would you say if you had the chance

what would you say if you had the chance
Oh Boy, here it goes. I need the practice for the newspaper, so here I go.

An eleven year old boy has the right to grow up. He should be proctected by parents, elders, and the communitiy at large. He shouldn't be subjected to rape. Then forced to perform sex acts on other men. This boy should have memories of playing baseball and riding his bicycle, rather that nightmares, fears of going to sleep, and blocked out memories.

A twelve year old boy should be out having fun, exploring the woods, beginning to "see" girls as girls, not something with cooties. Instead of being dragged into the bed room to be sexually assualted. Time after time after time. Before you know it this boy is no longer 12 any more, he is a broken and depressed 20 year old with no sense of worth and no self-respect. Devoid of any energy to hold his head up, to look toward the future, to see what it should hold for him instead of the grim vision that lies ahead. Years and years of holding in shame, guilt, anger, worthlessness, there's nothing good in this list. The spiral runs down until it hits bottom.

The lucky ones land on their backs and can look up and see that there is light above. And have something to work for. The unlucky ones land on there face and see only dirt, the dirt that they will soon become part of. God Bless our lost brothers that landed with there face down in the dirt.

Bill
 
howard,
i read your response a good handful of times. what i kept coming back to was the last line. the pain in your post and the frustration was clear as a bell, but those last words were powerful beyond description. i look back, and i see that truth repeated more than i want to remember. that is something that needs to be heard, and i promise you, it will be.

bill,
i remember when i was twelve, and thirteen. this was when the direct abuse stopped for me. i remember the rest of my adolescence always feeling like i was outside, looking in. at one point in high school, i was in a discussion with one of my teachers and i told her that i was always an observer, for as long as i could remember. thing was, what i never told her, was that i never understood why. i never knew what it was like to think girls had cooties. the one time i played softball i felt like such a loser standing in the outfield with no mit because i had none then when the ball came my way i still reached out for it...right into my hand. nearly broke my hand and i dropped it. what would it have been like had i ended up alone and face first? that image of yours is haunting.

thank you both, and each of you men who have replied to this thread. i look around here and i realize something...i no longer stand alone, i stand among men who stand with me and with each other. i asked here once what was a real man. i look around, and i see my answer every day right here where real men stand with each other in darkest of moments. i see real men reaching into the depths of their own pain to share a hell in hopes that others might be helped.

i stand among men.
 
Theo I have read everything that has been posted here and can agree with all of it.

I think I would say the following:

Sir:

Male sexual abuse is the greatest crime still in the closet. The statistics are that at least 1 in 6 men are victims of sexual assault by the time they are 21. What you read, see or here in the media is just the tip of the iceberg. 85% of this abuse occurs in and around the home. The untreated effects of sexual assault can lead to drug and alcohol addictions, hostility with society that is handled by the courts and sometimes death by suicide for those who cannot cope.

Sir I am talking about the 1 in 6 male children of your friends, fellow legislators, and society in general. Is it not time to strip the cloak of secrecy from this crime. Should it not be treated as a federal crime with penalties that properly reflect the damage that has been done.

Thank you
 
mike,
thank you for your response. the first line in your statement to the hypothetical authority is one that really sticks out for me in terms of imagery.

brothers, what i have been looking for in each of these posts are the words that would speak to people who have never considered the effects of such evil and such secrecy. when i started this project the whole point was to draft an article that would speak to the heart of those that never knew yet still maintain the integrity of the men and boys who have suffered. i did not want to appeal to the same kind of sensationalism that we have all seen in the media over the more outrageous tragedies. i wanted to convey that this evil effects many people that they would personally know in profound ways. i wanted to touch their hearts without it turning into the circus that we have seen from the media. each of the posts to this thread, and the gracious friends and family members who have also posted in that forum, have all contributed exactly what i was looking for. within each post there has been much that has stood out and much that i wish to incorporate in such a way that will convey it all and therefore tell the story of each of us. i wanted to reach their hearts without comprimising the integrity and dignity for which we have all striven so hard to achieve and maintain in our daily struggles. every post has brought me one step closer to that goal. please continue to contribute to this thread if you can for each contribution is about who we are as men, and as survivors and tells us not only where we came from, but more importantly, where we are going. thank you each and every one.
 
Theo - my first response here was really mainly about myself.

My next comments are about the current politically correct state of play in the UK 'justice system'.

MAY TRIGGER

Dear Prime Minister -

Would you please tell me why you are remotely concerned with changing the name of 'The Crown Prosecution Service' to 'The Public Prosecution Service'. Would you also please tell me why you want to change the name of 'Her Majesty's Prison Service' to 'The National Offender Management Service'.

Why do you think this is important - this news is released a day after a previously convicted paedophile (Mr Bush will spell that without the 'a' - USA v UK spelling)was convicted to life imprisonment.

As someone that was abused at 12 years old, I wonder why that person only served 3 years of a 4.5 year prison sentence, for a crime that allowed a 10 year sentence. It is well known that paedophiles will offend again and again and again. This individual has now been convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment; a term that does not impress me as it will no doubt be drastically reduced due to good behaviour & promises not to do it again.

This paedophile asked to be locked up for good when he was first jailed....he knew what he would do when released! How did he even get remission? If he knew what he was capable of, why did he not get the maximum allowed sentence allowed at the time?

The depressing thing is also that 7 and 8 year old boys can be seriously abused in a pit and that the sentence would have been a maximum of 10 years. The life sentence is allowed only because they were also temporarily imprisoned within that pit. In future years I think those boys would rather be claustrophobic than remember the sexual abuse that they suffered (that is only my opinion and I am allowed to state it - I think that my reference points allow me to do that....railway shed v pit....I have no fear of railway sheds).

Today I read the news about name changes to The Crown Prosecution Service and Her Majesty's Prison Service! I also read about another person (?) that had downloaded 495,524 pictures of child abuse that involved babies as young as 6 months old - jail sentence 5 years (no doubt a third off for good behaviour). This person may not have committed the abuse, but purchased at least some of those pictures and has therefore contributed to the abuse process.

The way things are going, both of these individuals will sue (and win) the Prison Service because their human rights have been denied at some point (for anyone in the USA - a prisoner was recently awarded funding to sue the Prison Service because he was not allowed a second helping of pudding *not a paedophile).

What happens if one of these paedophiles grooms one of your children (don't say it could never happen they are extremely devious)? What happens if that child doesn't tell anyone for years until they feel a compelling need to do so? What happens if that child discovers that you read this letter here, and asks you what you then did about paedophiles at the time? Would you really say: 'Oh, I just thought that was someone that needed to get over it! I was too busy changing the names of The Crown Prosecution Service, also Her Majesty's Prison Service'. What would you say to that child if it asked you why you didn't push for maximum sentences? Would you really say that 'paedophiles are entitled to their Civil Liberties too - we cannot deny them their Human Rights'.

Rik

If you could do that, then I would not want to be your child. I no doubt would end up welcoming your child at this site in years to come!
 
Dear Prime Minister -

I almost forgot...do I want revenge...no ...justice!

What would that justice be for your child in a similar situation? Educating the abuser, or making sure that they were out of circulation?

Once again with respect ...Rik
 
It has taken me a while to reply. Not sure if this is what you were looking for. This is my fantasy... to basically make people remember what it felt like to be a child before asking them to consider childhood sexual abuse and its effects. Response may trigger. I am so sorry this is so long. I just started writing and couldn't stop.
---------------------------------
"Promises mean everything when you're little, and the world is so big." -Everclear

If possible, I would like you to imagine how it felt to be five. Close your eyes. Use whatever memory works for you to return to the way the world seemed when you were that young... imagine your first day of school, or the first time you rode a bike, or any other quintessential childhood milestone. Are you with me now? You are five. You are trying to figure out which line to stand in at kindergarten, or maybe you are trying to steady the bike you are on, or trying to catch a ball that your dad is throwing. Your hands are much smaller, and you are much shorter, and you are not sure of how the world works yet. You may have the sensation that things are difficult, out of reach, confusing, or terrifying. And these are supposedly the "happy" memories of childhood.
Stay with me. You are still five. You are still trying to figure out how the world works. Your parents are divorced. Your mother marries a new "dad." Your new "dad" is very scary. (Remember, you are still five. This man may not be scary to you when you think of yourself as an adult, but you are little and he is much taller than you.) He yells a lot. He starts to hit you when your little hands don't work quite right and spill things. The hitting becomes more frequent. The belt is used. You are now very scared of this man.
You are still five. You are a very scared five year old. Being so little, it is very easy for your new "dad" to be rough with you. He begins to do things to you that you do not understand. They hurt. They are strange to you. They do not feel right. But you are still five and start to think that maybe this is the way the world works. (Just like kindergarten. You don't question that you need to be in a line when you are five... you just try to find the right one to be in.) You do not think about telling him no, and you do not think that telling other people would help. You are scared... a very scared five year old.

"Like violence, you kill me, forever and after." -Blink182

If possible, I would like you to imagine how it felt to be seventeen. Are your eyes still closed? Use whatever memory works for you to return to the way the world seemed when you were that age... imagine your first day of Senior year, or the first time you drove a car, or any other quintessential teenage milestone. Are you with me now? You are seventeen. You are trying to figure out which group of people you want to belong to, or maybe you are trying to pass Driver's Ed, or trying out for an athletic team. Your hormones are raging, and you are going through growth spurts, and you are not sure of how the world works yet. You may have the sensation that things are difficult, out of reach, confusing, or terrifying. And these are supposedly the "happy" memories of the teen years.
Stay with me. You are still seventeen. You are still trying to figure out how the world works. Your stepdad has been out of the picture for almost 10 years now. You have convinced yourself that it is in the past now and hell, it wasn't a big deal anyway. You can remember quick glimpses of some of the things that he did to you, but your mind won't give you complete memories so you just don't think of them at all. You start to drink... a lot.

Here's a fun trick to help you feel what it is like to "know" something happened that was out of your control but can't remember it. I want you to imagine a time when you were drunk. I mean, really drunk. You wake up the next day and your friend calls. He tells you that you were dancing with a lampshade on your head the night before. You do not remember this at all, but you "know" it happened because you get a quick flash or two of memory over the next couple of hours. There is a sense of embarrassment that goes along with it. That is what it is like to barely remember sexual abuse but have an overwhelming sense of shame about something that happened but you can't even talk about it. And you start to doubt yourself, and you are terrified to talk about it because, if you can't remember it, how can you tell anyone for sure that it happened? And there's no friend to give you a call next day to tell you what went down. You just have a gnawing feeling in your gut, a few flashes of memory, and a sense that you would die if anyone ever found out.

You are still seventeen and you start to realize that the world is full of pain, in addition to your own all-consuming depression. You start to realize that there is no escape from your past. Add this to the hormones, and the confusion about life, and the guidance counselors telling you that you have to pick a college - and well, it just gets to be too much. And you realize that despite your attempts to push what happened away, your stepdad is always going to be in the back of your mind... doing things that no one should ever do to a little kid. And you realize he is going to affect you forever, and you are really angry about that, so you keep drinking and you keep getting depressed. You hurt. Nothing feels right. But you are still seventeen and have been taught that this is the way the world works. (Just like high school. You don't question that you need to be in a specific group of people when you are seventeen... you just try to find the right one to be in.) You do not think that telling other people about your past would help. In fact, it would probably hurt if anyone found out. You are scared... despite the fact that you are now seventeen, when you first learned these things about your world, you were a very scared five year old.

"Every child loses something a whole life can't fulfill." -Sophie B. Hawkins

One more time... if possible, I would like you to imagine how it feels to have survived sexual abuse as a child and a teenager, and you have now moved into adulthood. Are your eyes still closed? You have never told anyone about what your stepfather did to you when you were little. Every day you see stories of abuse on the news... the church scandal, the Michael Jackson case... and you see that the victims in these crimes are not believed. The questions are asked by the callous reporters: "Why didn't they come forward sooner?" "If this really happened, why can't they remember it?" We still feel paralyzed with fear. The fear of the five year old that to tell means he will get in trouble. The fear of the seventeen year old that to tell means he will be disbelieved. The fear of the adult that to tell means he will be discredited.

For many of us, it is as though we are trapped... relating to the world as we were taught to relate to it. With fear, and shame, and terror, and confusion. It takes years to undo what we were taught. We do not just "get over it" no matter how hard many of us try. It affects our friendships, our relationships, and our sense of self-worth. It is something that affects us for the rest of our lives. Recovering from this kind of trauma takes years of rebuilding. This is something that many of us spend our whole lives working on.

This is what it feels like to move through the world as a survivor of sexual abuse.
 
Big triggers, coming out of the walls. OTOH, I find it amazing I can write this now. Its from my early experiences just after I remembered the abuse.
I'm not kidding: triggers.

Well, here goes my spin on what I'd say:

An insane man might wake to terrible guilt over something he did not do wrong, but which was done to him. The guilt would sit with him through breakfast, if he could eat at all, and in the shower before work, he might think about how he wants to sever his penis from his body, or his right hand for the memories connected to it that electrocute his heart and mind - of what it did, even if someone elses hand was over it.
When shaving in the mirror, he might press to hard on the razor and not care and sometimes he might not be able to look himself in the eyes. When he brushes his teeth, he might gag because the texture of the toothpaste evokes the feeling of something else ejaculated there years before but that is still present, now part of his mouth. Of course, if he cares enough to bathe that day - after all, who would want to pay attention to him?
He goes to work, to a job that he settled for because he doesn't believe he can do anything of use, or doesn't deserve to. He eats shit all day because thats what he is there for, or scurries through the walls like a mouse, a nobody.
He goes home to an empty apartment, watches tv, and if he has an appetite, he eats food that does not set off memories that will rip him back to the past. He doesn't feel much because his heart grows colder and he grows more detached with each day. Compulsion comes and he masturbates to porn or goes out and has sex with strangers, taking risks that could place a death sentence in his blood. It doesn't matter, its happening to someone else, and besides, he feels it so strong, it must be how he feels, right? And on, down this road, where the flowers become fewer and the landscape colder and greyer until he turns around and tries to find the road to HELP or just keeps on going until he falls, bleeding from his wrists where he cut them, or his neck burning from where the rope bit in.
Thats if he even made it this far because disease, or drug addiction or alcoholism didn't claim him first.

Yes, you might define this as an insane man. I define it as a sane response to an insane situation.
 
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