Thank you for your
website. I welcome the opportunity to tell my story, in the hopes
that it will inspire others to tell theirs, and thus help end the
cycle of abuse.
I am 52 years old, and only in the past 3 years, after a divorce
from a marriage of 25 years, alienation of my own sons, a nervous
breakdown resulting in a 5 day hospital admission, 6 months of
counseling, and 3 years of prayer, study, reflection, and insight,
have I been able to "put my life together" and realize
why I've done what I've done.
All my life I've been troubled by a "Jekell and Hyde"
personality. Most of the time, I'm easygoing, kind, helpful, and
loving to those around me. But, for some unknown reason, I'd
explode into an angry rage, scream, yell, break objects (I've
never struck another human being, thank God) and terrify those
closest to me, especially my wife. On other occasions, I'd drink
too much, and try to sexually force myself on my wife. These
occasions happened 3-4 times a year in the early years of our
marriage; then faded away so that during the last 10 years, they
never happened at all. But the damage had been done: she was
terrified of me, and we had no sex --not even kisses--for the last
10 years of our "marriage." After I initiated a
long-overdue divorce, I entered counseling, and the counselors (
there were 2) explored my childhood. I thought that was crazy; my
adult life was screwed up. But through the efforts of the
counselors, the memories came back, the flood gates opened, and
the
answers poured out in a torrent of misery.
Sometime when I was about 4 years old, I vividly remember waking
up in the middle of the night having heard my mother crying and my
father swearing at her downstairs in the living room. Being an
alert, inquisitive and protective little boy, I ran down the
stairs to see what was going on. I saw my mother tied naked to a
chair, crying; while my father stood in front of her, trying to
get her to perform oral sex on him. Yes, this really happened. My
mother saw me first, and screamed out my name. My father turned
around in a drunken rage and yelled at me "Get back to bed,
you little bastard!!" He chased me up the stairs and beat me
while cowered in my bed. Then he stumbled down the stairs and
untied my mother; I guess they both went back to bed.
Right after this, I began to lose control of my bowels, which is
understandable after witnessing the trauma I did. My mother had no
time for this; I had 2 younger brothers and 1 older one, and she
couldn't be bothered by one boy regressing in this area. Her
answer was to beat me. Whenever I messed my pants, she would take
me up to the bathroom, and beat me mercilessly, shoving bars of
soap into my anus. She developed a pattern: beat me during my
evening bath. She would take off her dress, so she wouldn't get it
wet. So, she beat me wearing bra, panties, garter belt, stockings,
and high heeled wedge sandals. The beatings went on night after
night, right after dinner. I lost my appetite; hated family
dinners, and formed bizarre sexual fantasies. One of my brothers
has corroborated my memories of the beatings, so I know I have not
created these memories.
She also used to shove me into her closet, leaving me there for
who knows how long, alone, crying, in the dark, surrounded by her
clothes and shoes.
Then, at bedtime, came the seduction. She'd take me into her bed,
wearing nylon nightgowns and perfume. She'd read me stories, kiss
me, and m*sturb*te me to make me feel better. All of this to a 4
year old!! She'd expose her breasts to me, and let me touch them.
Often, she'd walk around the house topless; letting me see her. To
top of all this confusion, she dressed me up for Halloween as a
girl and took me around to the neighbors to beg for candy!!
(She had six boys and no girls, I guess she thought she'd turn me
into one.) There is more crap that came out of my childhood when
she sisters, my aunts came around, but I won't bore everyone with
that. This being dressed as a girl ended about age 7; and so did
the overt seduction. I was getting to big and smart for her to get
away with any more of it.
By the time I was 7, I was having "temper fits", and
angry rages. My chums used to tease me and torment me to make me
fly into a rage; they all loved the show. When my mother heard
about me "losing my temper in public", she'd beat me
some more. She was a psychotic carzy woman. I spent my nights
fantasizing how to put my mother and her sisters in jail and never
let them out. These rages and beatings continued right up until I
was twelve. The final beating came when I got angry at a school
teacher, exploded into a rage, and threw a blackboard eraser at
her. She called my mother, who was waiting for me with a leather
belt when I got home. But this beating was different. As hard as
she tried, she couldn't make me cry. My buttocks were bleeding
when she was done, but I did NOT cry. I stared her down.
She never touched me again. I never cried again until after I was
divorced, 38 years later. I never cried at any funerals, not even
my brother's. I never cried when my wife demanded a divorce, or my
children (2 boys) tearfully begged me not to get a divorce.
Well, I've bored you enough. The only way I've been helped is
through:
1) a deep spirituality and faith in God, followed by lots of
prayer and reading
2) association with people who actually believe my story, and
avoidance of those --including some of my brothers -who don't.
3) getting good counseling from people who believe mothers and
aunts do this evil to their male children
4) reading information from this website.
Don't ever give up !! You can heal -- the effort is worth it!!
Bob
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