Why is it so difficult?
PhoenixRising
Registrant
Long ago, a boy was born. The parents wanted a girl to even things out, but he confounded them and arrived early, either he or the mother was at risk so they cut him out.
He was always the youngest boy. The youngest of 3. He shared a bedroom. When he was 3, his father, who most likely was molesting him, almost died. The boy felt responsible. He was without a father for at least 6 months, although it is most likely for the information he has gotten, albeit not upfront, that his mother had at least one other man. She was terrified that they would not eat. Other me came in the door. One showed up again at the boys door many years later seemingly knowing the boy, but the boy could not remember him. The man offered no explanation.
The boy had this great store of faith and hope, and he thought it was his job to take care of the family. As it was, when his father returned, he had to work his fathers arms and leg to help him gain strength. The same arms would be used to grab the boy, the hands to beat him.
The boys oldest brother would read to him, but would also climb on top of him, and strip and make him play with the older boys genitals. The little boy was confused. Years later his brother would be picked on by school kids for being gay, they egged the house, the younger blamed himself for turning his brother gay.
The little boy was terrified of continuing the cycle. He felt alone. All his siblings would be molested or raped in childhood. The little boy was afraid of any feelings and so he shut his body down. As he got older and moved to a school and kids picked on him, called him faggot, he was terrified that they knew what he had done. What he was.
He continued to repress feelings. The terror inside was great. When a local man was turned in by his son for being abusive, then was let out when the kids recanted, murdered the boy who told and took the younger boy on raping spree, this little boy got frightened. At the same time his older sister tried to kill herself. The man she had been babysitting for had raped her. She continued with this man off and on for 30 years, even as she married twice.
The boy grew up, and had many friends but could not reveal his pain and secret. When he finally confronted the family (way too soon) they denied him. He called himself a liar for how could these people all lie.
As the years went on he sank under the weight of his own acting out. In anxiety he would hook up randomly and online, never seeking any more than a short term salve and a repeat of the shame and guilt cycle. Still that small child held on. But the child was now not certain he could return even to the man.
Years and years went by. Therapy. Loss of jobs. The man was lucky to limit his vices, however he still continued to sabotage. So afraid of feeling good. Why? Because of what come after. One can control pain by just staying in it.
The man thought it would be easy. But people continue to take his energy, and he still at times, believes that is okay. He never perpetrated, although he criticized, and put his own inner child in emotionally unsafe situations.
He, the man, is just beginning to feel the little boys innocence and the struggle. He is just starting to see how many factors were stacked against him ever reaching a compassionate place as an adult. He knows that the family he was born into would allow him to die one way or another to keep their own illusions alive.
He knows he needs to break free, let loose of any victim energy. His body hurts often with the emotions he has repressed. He is working to release regrets. He wonders who he could have been if he had just been able to trust himself earlier. He struggles with his sexuality, sexual feelings and being vulnerable. Pain sometimes seems easier.
He wants to live fully. Why the fuck does it have to be so difficult?
He was always the youngest boy. The youngest of 3. He shared a bedroom. When he was 3, his father, who most likely was molesting him, almost died. The boy felt responsible. He was without a father for at least 6 months, although it is most likely for the information he has gotten, albeit not upfront, that his mother had at least one other man. She was terrified that they would not eat. Other me came in the door. One showed up again at the boys door many years later seemingly knowing the boy, but the boy could not remember him. The man offered no explanation.
The boy had this great store of faith and hope, and he thought it was his job to take care of the family. As it was, when his father returned, he had to work his fathers arms and leg to help him gain strength. The same arms would be used to grab the boy, the hands to beat him.
The boys oldest brother would read to him, but would also climb on top of him, and strip and make him play with the older boys genitals. The little boy was confused. Years later his brother would be picked on by school kids for being gay, they egged the house, the younger blamed himself for turning his brother gay.
The little boy was terrified of continuing the cycle. He felt alone. All his siblings would be molested or raped in childhood. The little boy was afraid of any feelings and so he shut his body down. As he got older and moved to a school and kids picked on him, called him faggot, he was terrified that they knew what he had done. What he was.
He continued to repress feelings. The terror inside was great. When a local man was turned in by his son for being abusive, then was let out when the kids recanted, murdered the boy who told and took the younger boy on raping spree, this little boy got frightened. At the same time his older sister tried to kill herself. The man she had been babysitting for had raped her. She continued with this man off and on for 30 years, even as she married twice.
The boy grew up, and had many friends but could not reveal his pain and secret. When he finally confronted the family (way too soon) they denied him. He called himself a liar for how could these people all lie.
As the years went on he sank under the weight of his own acting out. In anxiety he would hook up randomly and online, never seeking any more than a short term salve and a repeat of the shame and guilt cycle. Still that small child held on. But the child was now not certain he could return even to the man.
Years and years went by. Therapy. Loss of jobs. The man was lucky to limit his vices, however he still continued to sabotage. So afraid of feeling good. Why? Because of what come after. One can control pain by just staying in it.
The man thought it would be easy. But people continue to take his energy, and he still at times, believes that is okay. He never perpetrated, although he criticized, and put his own inner child in emotionally unsafe situations.
He, the man, is just beginning to feel the little boys innocence and the struggle. He is just starting to see how many factors were stacked against him ever reaching a compassionate place as an adult. He knows that the family he was born into would allow him to die one way or another to keep their own illusions alive.
He knows he needs to break free, let loose of any victim energy. His body hurts often with the emotions he has repressed. He is working to release regrets. He wonders who he could have been if he had just been able to trust himself earlier. He struggles with his sexuality, sexual feelings and being vulnerable. Pain sometimes seems easier.
He wants to live fully. Why the fuck does it have to be so difficult?
