Prepubescent boys don’t have hymens, but we too bled the same red

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

I have no words. I couldn’t read far into your OP, TokyoPlayer. To come out of a hell like that and still struggle to break the pattern… that is strength.

In a certain place, I will not say where, I met a man who had been abused. He was working as hard as he could to cure/exorcise/reporgram/eliminate the patterns of abuse that had been burned into his mind, and that distorted his own life.

It is from him that I learned about ‘breaking the pattern’. He said, “better to have no children than to have children and abuse them.” I broke into tears at that point.

He went on to win an award because of his efforts in helping children in danger.

22

I don’t know what to say. Post as you need to, TokyoPlayer. Peace.

23

I have no words that will suffice, either. {{{TokyoPlayer}}}

I’m thankful to know you, and that you survived, and that we get to read your elegant prose. I’m proud of you that you have stopped the cycle of destruction.

You make me cry, and I want to hold you and help you heal. Please know that we all care.

24

That’s so awful. I’m sorry. No one should ever had to go through anything like that. :frowning:

25

I have no words other than my SO is in a similar position.
She grew up enduring sexual, verbal, mental & physical abuse. There’s a scar from a cigarette burn in the small of her back. She can’t take baths because one of her sisters tried to drown her in one. She’s still not completely comfortable with having me around because of what her stepfather did. The only members of her family who were kind to her have passed on; she desires no contact with the ones who remain.

I did not experience sexual abuse, for which I am thankful, but there was the vebal, mental & physical, all perpetrated by one of my brothers. When I was about 17, I tried to put his head through a wall.

26

I think the tone of this thread is best suited for MPSIMS, though it is neither mundane, nor pointless. I’ll move it for you.

27

{{{Tokyo Player}}}

28

That hurt to read. So did many of the comments. I didn’t have a happy childhood, but I was not abused.

29

That’s definitely a shitty story. One thing though: I guess I’m the spiteful type but perhaps your psycho Sister-in-Law is right. Why does your Mom deserve to see or talk to her grandchildren? Having a grandma in your life ain’t that important. If I had kids, and my wife’s family was anything like as you describe yours to be, they wouldn’t get within a hundred yards of maternal grandma/pa, even if my wife wanted to secretly keep in touch.

Hope you’re getting through it. As ivylass says, you seem to have a lot of emotional stuff on your plate at the moment.

30

I’m thousands of miles away from you, both in actual space and in experience, but I hope support from here can give you some small measure of strength. Not much I can do but listen and pray for you, but if that helps at all it’s yours.

31

It’s terrible how common abuse is. More common than some people know, because not everyone talks about it, especially in detail as you did.

My mother met a man and allowed him to move in with us when I was five. When I was seven, he tried to molest my sister who was fourteen at the time. Child Protective services came to the house to check it out, but I’m not sure what happened because he didn’t leave the house. My mom allowed him to stay knowing what happened.

Had my mom kicked him out of the house, I wouldn’t have gotten molested when things didn’t work out with him and my sister. It went on for five years. I never got spanked as a child, but his idea of punishment was to lock us in our rooms. My mom allowed him to put locks outside of our doors and lock us in. There are three of us, but only two bedrooms so a lot of times if we were all punished at once I had to stay in the bathroom all day.

I can clearly remember sitting in the kitchen, and my brother being locked in his room. He had to use the bathroom but the asshole wouldn’t let him out. So my brother peed in a lunchbox and threw it out the bedroom window. Later that night he cried and stuck his fingers under the door because I was on the other side. I laid on the floor and we touched fingers and slept that way.

The thing is I didn’t let it ruin me. I didn’t become an outcast or deviant. I held on to my virginity until I found someone I truly loved and ended up marrying him. There are times I don’t want to be touched and times I still cry, but I feel like I wouldn’t be who I am today if I didn’t have to overcome this. Not that I wanted it to happen of course, but I like who I am now, and I wouldn’t be me without it. I hold on to that and try to be proud of how I turned out in spite of it.

No one in my family knew of the sexual abuse until my sister called to tell me my mom was going to marry him. I just couldn’t let that happen. So I told my sister, and my brother and they in turn told my mom for me because I couldn’t. My mom actually had to debate on whether or not to still marry him. She didn’t.

I love my mom. I forgive my mom. I know she had severe issues with depression and he convinced her she was a bad mother and that he should punish us as he saw fit. He’s taken away so many things from me, I didn’t want him to take my family too.

This is longer and more in depth than I planned, and I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know that I understand the betrayal. The people who are supposed to protect you in life and fight to the death for your safety, and how they can utterly disappoint. We just have to be proud of who we are and know that we can love without hurt.

32

This thread makes me cry. I’m sorry you had to endure that sort of abuse, all of you. Nobody deserves it, and you did nothing to cause it. I hope you can all find the peace you need.

33

I could not have picked better words to voice my own thoughts.
Please know that you and yours are in my thoughts and prayers.

34

Thanks everyone for your kind words, and hugs back to those who have also experienced similar pain.

I don’t understand people who prey on children, in general, and even more so on their own. I can’t see why parents try to humilate, abuse and degrade their own flesh.

My wife and I are up in Hokkaido visiting a family she did a homestay was 10 years ago. There’s laughter and fun conversation. Why can some families be like this and other hell?

There was not a single thing which I enjoyed, excelled at or wanted that was not used against me by my father. That’s taken a number of years to work on undoing that, and it’s still an on-going project.

I, and others who have been abused could write books and the specifics, but that’s less the point than knowing that abuse has happened and working on how to get beyond it.

It’s hard to describe though, the longer lasting effects. When something kicks into to a memory from childhood, then the fear comes up. A friend asked how much fear I would feel, so I asked him on a one to ten scale, how much fear and anxiety would you feel if someone took a loaded shotgun, pointed it at your chest, pumped a round into the chamber and placed their finger on the trigger. He said that would be a 10. I told him that’s what if feels like at times.

It’s not as bad as an adult, but having to remain calm under the same level of panic while thinking that this time your father was going to kill you or your brothers or sisters was a bit trickier.

Therapy had helped, as well as an antidepressant. It’s been a long process and will still continue for a while.

Recently I went through a period of getting anxiety attacks again. That’s happened before, and it came up again. I took one of those clicker-counters with me around during the day and counted 47 attacks. It was time to increase my dosage.

I’m actually doing fairly well, considering the circumstances. I think that the worst of this depression cycle has lifted and I’ll continue to work on issues.

35

I had to comment as well. I can never imagine the pain you and others have gone through, but I have one thing to say to all of you:
Keep speaking up.

Keep reminding us who may not know the signs, who may not have personal experiences with abuse, that it is more common than we know and could be happening to those we love.

Keep speaking to break the cycles of silence that perpetuate abuse and keep others from stepping in to help. I couldn’t imagine not realizing someone I loved was being abused–either out of simple ignorance or just plain denial.

Stay strong, keep trying, and know our thoughts for peace and love are with you all.

36

Tokyo Player, man I won’t muddy this up with my own experiences, but the only thing that is keeping me from tears right now is that my wife is sitting beside me and she wouldn’t understand. I admire you for being able to share your pain. Nothing can make it better, but I hope you can become stronger for what you had to go through.

Love you man.

SSG Schwartz

37

Tokyo Player man, I am sorry to hear that you went through such shit.
I had a fucked up childhood too, but I have blocked most of it from my memory. Still I don’t think the abuse I went through was as intense as what you experienced.

Stay strong, my friend.

38

Just adding my own heartfelt best wishes. For those parts I recognize, and those I don’t.

39

I am so sorry for what’s happened to you, and even though I don’t know you, I’m proud of you for facing it, working through it, and most importantly–making sure it stops with you.

Some chains are meant to be broken.

I hope you find peace and strength and warm, caring love for the rest of your days.