Who Believes Me? Who Don't Believe Me?

Who Believes Me? Who Don't Believe Me?

AussieMan

Registrant
G'day and a good morning, and a happy Easter . Am not sure, just where to start. Am not sure if I should disclose my name; however, for now its AussieMan. Before, I start to share my story, in case you are wondering, I am an Australian, have been living here as a permanent resident in Ontario, Canada; for 17 years of my life. Now, its time to share my story and the journey; "Thrive and Survive".

Most parts of my story, was shared by other sources as I was older enough to know of my past trauma.

Newcastle, NSW, Australia, Thursday 20th August, 1970; I was born and brought into the world . At the age of three months, my own mum who gave birth to me, already hated me as she attempted to drown me in my little baby bath tub; because I was screaming/crying from soap that got into my eyes. Whenever, my mum had me out of my crib and visitor's arrived she would hide me from everyone. Mum and Dad both had government jobs; mum was working for Australian Post and my father worked for Telecommunications. From my growing up as a baby too an infant physical abuse had started.

On the 9th December, 1973 my sister was born, but the pendulum swung, my mum nurtured my sister more then me. When visitor's arrived, my sister got quite the attention, I realized who was to be the favourite in the family. My father was still working at the time, but my mum had time off from work for both myself and my sister. My parents were becoming desperate to get a babysitter to look after us while they worked and had pleasure time; whether, pleasure was at their workplace or for themselves.

At the age of 6 and my sister was 3, my parents would have us go to our Uncle & Aunt's place for babysitting. My Aunt is the sister to my mum. My Aunty had children of her own, two boys and two girls, and I believe a son on the way. My sister and I were very much frequent visitor's going to our Aunt's place.
My cousins were living at home with their parents, and whenever they left to go off to wherever they went, myself and my sister were left in the hands of our cousins. My cousin who is set to be my abuser, he had invited me upstairs to his bedroom to view his model planes, tanks, and cars. I was aged 6 at this time, however the invitation was meant to be fun by playing with his toys to keep me occupied. He was laying on his bed reading a magazine, but I was having my own fun playing with the toys. My cousin got up from the bed and shut the door and locked it I think. I got into trouble by him because I was viewing this magazine that he left on the bed. I saw these pictures of nude people doing stuff, my cousin came up to me and started on me, by touching me. He told me not to say anything or tell anyone that it was our secret. He got me to suck his penis, then he peed in my mouth, as he needed a place to pee. He then told me it was alright it is safe on what we were doing and he was teaching me about the birds and the bees. My cousin then rolled me over, I felt his thing rubbing between my legs then he tried to slide his thing inside my bum. He forced it inside me with him on top of me and he was sliding his thing in and out of me. He was going fast then I felt something inside me, had no idea what it was, until i believe I had an accident from my bum. It wasn't what I thought it was, it was gooey white look fluid. My cousin told me it was fine nothing to worry about, accept I was reminded again, that it was a secret and not to tell anyone or anybody.
Later, went downstairs for dinner, then went back to my cousin room, as I had to get ready for bed. My sister was already in bed asleep. My cousin started on me again before I went to sleep. I had to suck him, so he can get his penis inside my hole again. Once, he was finished i then was asleep; until it was time for my parents to pick us up, so we then would go home into our own bed of comfort.
This pattern going to our cousins was very much it for a few years. It was the repeat of abuse from my cousin over and over. I was hurting inside, my cousin told me it was fine it will go away. He told me that he will take the pain away his way of taking pain away was to keep inserting his penis inside me, peeing inside me, and he would have this white stuff also inside me. I would be punished if I leaked any fluid out of my bum. There were consequences for having accidents.
1. Be forced to suck his penis.
2. He would put his penis inside me.
3. My face was rubbed in it.
Who was I as this child? For me, I wasn't sure, I thought it was right and fun in what was happening. Did I know what I was doing was wrong? I have no idea.
In between the sex with my cousin, there were many more punishments to come, and not just my cousin. This time it was abuse from my parents, accept for my sister. I was abused, at school by teachers, abused by both mum and dad, like verbal, physical abuse, domestic violence, introduction to watch pornography, there was the mental abuse, emotional abuse from my mum and dad. They both were alcoholics, gamblers. Cruelty, be little, nastiness, and bullied. This abuse also continued up until my parents had split.
The sexual abuse and molestation happened for years at my Aunt's place, until the year my mum and dad split up. The split happen in 1979/80 when I was 9 years old and my sister was 6 years. My sister and I were forced aside and had to pick on which parent to live with. My parents never gave me or my sister a chance in hell we were both a piece of meat in between a sandwich.
Once, my mother left it was 1980, I was 9 at the time and going 10, my sister would have been 6 years old. During, the year my father, still aggressive with his abuse; especially, his mouth, vulgar words used constantly. However, dad was becoming desperate that he needed someone to stay and live with us, whilst he is suppose to be working. The person he invited to stay was my cousin. I think my cousin would have been in his mid to late 30s. He had job, he was with the Australian Army Reserve, for how long served, I do not know, and he was also involved with his rugby league club.
At the age of 10, the sexual abuse and molestation started up again, he would have me in my room on my bed, and making me suck his penis and swallow his pee. My cousin rolled me over and sexually abused me again. I screamed because it was hurting and that I was in a lot of pain. There would be consequences and punishment if I had an accident.
I had know means of escape, accept my comfort zone was under the house playing with my toy cars and drawing these pictures under the house on the stumps and on the floor boards from underneath. I still wasn't sure or certain how real this was. I believe it was 1981/82 I was 11 years old and my sister would have been 8 years old, that the abuse between my cousin and I had continued to no ending in sight. During this year, my cousin kept me and my sister home from school, told our school that we were both unwell; in which, we were both well. Many consequences with my cousin I met with horrible experiences. One morning, he was on top of me and had a knife to my neck and threatened me to do stuff, not only to him, but I was forced to do sexual things to my very own sister. If I do not follow through his threat I will be treated harshly with severe consequences. I never did followed through, as I failed to do because I was not expressing those feelings to my sister.
That afternoon, my cousin forced me to go along to his football training; for this reason, I feared the worse as a boy, I was sexually ganged abused by my cousins footy team mates. My consequences was met, I was dragged or lead to the stall in the dressing room, and four of these guys hurt me severely, internally. I was not allow to have accidents, again consequences and punishment.
Was my sister alright? Yes, she was fine, but I was punished for the attempt of touching her by my father. The actual sexual child abuse and molestation ended with my cousin when I was 14 years old. My sister was nowhere to be found, but heard that my mother took her, she waited for her at school and took her home.
Moving forward with my story, I am also a long time survivor of 31 years living with HIV; due to, the fact I heard that a family member was full blown with the AIDS virus back then. This family member was my abuser, who possibly infected me when I was a child. All the years I was a confused human being wondering who I was?
Was I gay?
I was diagnosed in 1990, in Sydney, NSW., Australia. Years before, I had lived with a father who was still abusive. When I tried to tell my parents they would not believe me. I was called names that was so distasteful and vulgar. Both my parents would always call me in such sentences; like, I am nothing but a lying compulsive C U N T, or I am a useless C U N T, and much more. My sister was also sexually abused by our cousin too. I don't know what happened behind closed doors with her, just like she has no idea about me.
There was still so much more of sexual abuse as years passed. Mum, Dad, and my own sister were very much abusive toward me, verbal abuse, to physical, mentally, and emotional.
My grandparents were mostly my family, they both raised me for 13.5 years.
In the year of 2003, I left Australia with a woman who I met online, she came to me in Australia and brought me here to Ontario, Canada.
I was 35 or 36 when I first opened up and told my story. I have been and still going today in counseling hoping for my journey of recovery through my post traumatic abuse.
There is still much more to share. Today, having relationships has been very shakey, because I have no meaning of the word LOVE.
What is love & life for me today?
Thank you for allowing me to share majority of my abuse.
 
First let me say welcome, and you are not alone.
And I DO BELIEVE YOU.

Wanting validation is a very normal part of this process, at least it was for me too. But if you are anything like me, the real question is do you believe you?

For me, there were some details of my memories that seem too strange, and others are just too disturbing, so I was afraid to share them- but I don't really doubt them anymore either. A wise friend in recovery once told me memory is not Memorex. It is possible for some details to be wrong, but it doesn't change anything. I have no doubt that I was sexually abused on multiple occasions by a certain person. Does it really matter if my memory combined two events, or separated one into two, or got a date wrong? The historical truth of the small details do not matter. We can't heal the historical past anyway, all we can work with is our memories and feelings around it. Healing around those is possible!

I will also tell you that some of your story resonated with me. My perpetrator was sick and perverted in his own way. Like you, I was forced to do disgusting things sometimes, or face the consequences.

I hope to see you back here, and wish you well as you continue your healing journey.
 
Welcome @AussieMan. I had a difficult time reading some of what you wrote. I identified with some of it. Man, I can't begin to understand all that you have gone through and have lived with all throughout your life. Even though my thoughts are deep with sadness of the truly horrifying life you lived as a child, and at the mercy of someone else's whims, I'm happy that you have come this far and now have reached out here. I felt like I made some progress when I began writing things out. I hope that you can feel comfortable to write out what you want and at your own pace.

Here, there are great many guys who are very supportive and they will make efforts to reach out to you. Welcome. You don't have to share your name with anyone. Probably better not to, if we're looking for anonymity. Doesn't hurt for people to know me as Jake. No one knows my last name or where I really live. So your username is perfect for you. Welcome @AussieMan. ~~Jake
 
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First let me say welcome, and you are not alone.
And I DO BELIEVE YOU.

Wanting validation is a very normal part of this process, at least it was for me too. But if you are anything like me, the real question is do you believe you?

For me, there were some details of my memories that seem too strange, and others are just too disturbing, so I was afraid to share them- but I don't really doubt them anymore either. A wise friend in recovery once told me memory is not Memorex. It is possible for some details to be wrong, but it doesn't change anything. I have no doubt that I was sexually abused on multiple occasions by a certain person. Does it really matter if my memory combined two events, or separated one into two, or got a date wrong? The historical truth of the small details do not matter. We can't heal the historical past anyway, all we can work with is our memories and feelings around it. Healing around those is possible!

I will also tell you that some of your story resonated with me. My perpetrator was sick and perverted in his own way. Like you, I was forced to do disgusting things sometimes, or face the consequences.

I hope to see you back here, and wish you well as you continue your healing journey.
G'day and good morning Rick & Jake. Master Yoda says, "truly wonderful the mind of a child is". Our own parents thought that children knew nothing, and that we were or just kids. I have also learned to from counseling that children may have been vulnerable at such young age, and we grow older we as survivors wouldn't know or remember anything. Today, my parents would only believe my sister, because she was a girl, because my mother told me, this sort of stuff only happens to girls not boys. I had stop the bullshit lies, that I am out to get those into trouble.
My grandparents, who in fact were my father's parents, grandma had her suspicions that something wasn't right, something was wrong, but she couldn't interfere, because she needed proof.
I was a mistake; according to, my own mother.
When memories come to play, there is so much I do remember, but not so much of memories. When I was at an age to listen and understand I was told many things, that would most likely make you cringe.
My grandparents were everything to me, they raised and loved me, but they mostly sheltered me and protected me. Today, I still share wonderful stories, and memories of myself with my grandparents.
My counselor has told me, a child has more use of memory then an a grown adult.

Am not sure which of you said, if I believe me. I have been taking the encouragement in telling myself that it wasn't my fault, but you are right. I do need to tell me or ask me, if I believe. I know my beliefs. Is it sad that I have no family who suppose to support, nurture and give love? Yes. It is very sad. I do realize today, I can't do anything to change or fix their minds. My family also don't want to associate with a son/sibling who has AIDS in their mindset. My mum is in denial and still is today, same goes with my younger sister.
I will and still get triggered by things around me, in which it has been difficult for me to control triggers. I push and try so hard is to be the person I am today.
My only hope, and forgive me for bringing in religion. My only hope is Jesus Christ, keeping myself focused on him, and the heavenly Father. He is my only friend in my life today. I hope you have a great day, have a phone meeting soon. Take care and my name is Peter
 
Welcome @AussieMan. You're not alone in feeling the story you have to tell will be met with doubt. Denial is a powerful thing in families and the things you describe would bring shame to most parents. Incest is a family dis-ease, even if it was brought to the family by someone on the outside. Here you will be listened to fairly and will be believed rather than judged.

As you share on Male Survivor you might consider adding the word ****TRIGGER**** when what you write has graphic content. For many of us reading such things can be unsettling. Adding the word allows members to be careful about what they reading. We do our best to support one another and a gentle warning can help. I'm glad you found us and look forward to encountering you on the board.
 
I believe you, @AussieMan
I was also very afraid that no one would believe the story I had to tell here. No, not a story, my life. But the men here all believed me, and I believe them. So, you're very welcome here.
 
@AussieMan . Welcome brother. We believe you and your story makes me sad. I don't understand why someone does this. You are among brothers here.
 
Welcome @AussieMan. You're not alone in feeling the story you have to tell will be met with doubt. Denial is a powerful thing in families and the things you describe would bring shame to most parents. Incest is a family dis-ease, even if it was brought to the family by someone on the outside. Here you will be listened to fairly and will be believed rather than judged.

As you share on Male Survivor you might consider adding the word ****TRIGGER**** when what you write has graphic content. For many of us reading such things can be unsettling. Adding the word allows members to be careful about what they reading. We do our best to support one another and a gentle warning can help. I'm glad you found us and look forward to encountering you on the board.
G'day and good evening, I appreciate your feedback; regarding to, the explicit, course, graphic detail I gave in my sharing of the story. Grrr, it makes me angry, and upsets me because I have said something to hurt others. Why does this happen to me? My words I have said, do speak of truth, but have no idea to word it down. My fingers for typing are getting me into trouble. Thank you, for that notice feedback of my wording and thank you for the acceptance and loo,ing forward to friendship and support.
 
G'day and good evening, I appreciate your feedback; regarding to, the explicit, course, graphic detail I gave in my sharing of the story. Grrr, it makes me angry, and upsets me because I have said something to hurt others. Why does this happen to me? My words I have said, do speak of truth, but have no idea to word it down. My fingers for typing are getting me into trouble. Thank you, for that notice feedback of my wording and thank you for the acceptance and loo,ing forward to friendship and support.

Don't fault yourself man. Some of us..."me" and others have triggers that can really bother them when reading material. As a matter of fact when I started here someone told me to put the word Triggers in what I write if it is somewhat sensitive. We're all going to be sensitive about something. So we're just being mindful of others. And you know, you've done nothing wrong. You didn't hurt anyone. I accept you and what you have to say. We all do brother. It took me a day or two to get accustomed to this place. Don't be down by it.~Jake
 
I'm with Jake AussieMan. I know how easy it is to fall into shame when something is said that feels like a criticism. I'm sorry you feel that because that is not at all my intention in suggesting you add a warning. I take your honestly as a measure of your desire to be part of this community and greatly respect that. Since we're all in this together, it is out of care for one another that we alert our compatriots to what is coming. We want EVERYTHING to be shared AND we want EVERYONE to feel safe. For many of us this is the first place we've ever been able to speak the truth about our pain. That is the reason this place is so precious and the reason I decided I wanted to become a member and make a contribution to support the site. I know what it has given me and I want it to be here for every man in need. Glad you joined us... now you can learn with the rest of us how to be more gentle with ourselves. We are NOT a problem to solve... but men worthy of respect and care. We give it to one another and learn to give it to ourselves.
 
Focus on recovery and not trying to have the past make sense in a way that feels better. We're all here for each other.
 
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