Healing Myself

Monday, November 28, 2005

Anger

I am fucking angry.  I haven't a clue why I am angry, but I know that I am.  I am completely out of control inside - not that anyone would know.  I tend to bottle my anger response because, most of the time, I don't let it out.  I just sit there and let it disappear.  But, over the last while, I have been learning that doing this procedure of keeping the anger inside - isn't necessarily a good thing.

So, I have been letting it out.  If someone says something I believe is stupid (which may or may not be true), I explode.  Not in a bad way, but my voice raises and I let it out.  I feel horrible for having done it afterwards, but I guess I tend to let it out to keep my sanity now.

I guess that is why I have not been posting here.  I promised myself that I would let my emotions out and let them splash onto this electronic page but each time I sit down to write, I feel as though nothing I write is any value.  Actually, that isn't entirely true.  I feel that what I have to say is of a type of value but it may be something stupid.  Right now, I just want to tell people to "fuck off and die".

Argh.  Anger is something I don't like to express.  But, I suppose I need to learn.

Technorati Tags : , , , , , , ,

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Male Sexual Abuse Survivors Resource Blog

I have started a new blog called the Male Sexual Abuse Survivors Blog. I felt I needed to keep my personal story separate from the resources I find on the web.

I hope people can check it out and send me any feedback they may have about the site. I will continue to write about myself and discuss my experiences and my life on this blog, but if I find some specific abuse related information to write about and make people aware of, I will post them on the other site.

Thanks for the support!

Thursday, May 19, 2005

My Brother

My brother is a dedicated soul and knows nothing (as does mostly everyone in my life) about the abuse I experienced. He is a highly technical guy and enjoys the time we spend together. I enjoy his time too. There isn't a day that goes by where I don't communicate with him. I am the oldest, he is the middle child, and my sister is the youngest.

Again, he is another rock of support for me. But, yet, I don't tell him anything about my mind and thoughts. How horrible is that. Yuck.

Monday, May 16, 2005

My Sister

My sibling is a special case. When I was young, before the age of twelve, I started to abuse her. For the longest while, I believed I was a monster. But, I have come to know that I was not. I was was twelve for goodness gracious when the abuse stopped.

But, now, she is a very happy twenty-something and we love each other dearly. She is creative, talented, and dedicated to her work. She smiles and laughs and dances way better than I do.

There is much more I have to say regarding my sister, but I think that this should do for now.

Friday, May 13, 2005

My Father

My goodness, what can't I say about this man. He too has been an inspiration. He may not be overly educated, but he is definately the smartest man I know. He has always been there for me. I think back to my growing up and he always seemed to get me motivated with a fun sort of sprite-like quality. He isn't a big man, but he is solid. Strong. He can still kick my ass any day of the week.

My father was always there for me and will until the day he passes on (which I hope is not soon at all). He is always there for myself and my siblings. And, of course, he still tells me to do better as well.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

My Mother

What can I say about my mother? One of the things in my life, my parents have been a rock solid support group for me. Even though they have no idea that this went on in the confines of their basement and other homes, they have always been positive. They do not try and put their past failures upon myself and my sibling - they just tell us to "do better".

My mother.

She is definately a focus for some anger I have in me. I am not entirely sure why. My fuse with my mother tends to be short. Nothing violent, just I tend to raise my voice more often than I should. She is able to touch "my buttons" somehow.

She is a caring women who would do anything for me. Am I leaving anything out? I don't think so. Sure, I could go into detail about her, but there really isn't much else to say except that she has been a solid place for me to run to. She is my mother and she has loved me since forever.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

The Abuse

I figure those of you out there that read this will want to know what exactly happened. Here is a quick run down on the abuse I have ecountered during my life.

At the age of five, my cousin and her friend kissed me for an extended period and I became aroused. This is one of my first memories.
At the age of seven, one of my best friends (an older boy) decided I was to be his "hooker". He raped me on numerous occasions and was physically abusive.
At the age of ten, another friend decided to touch me sexually during several sleepovers while I was asleep. He did this several times, inserting his penis into my anus while I was asleep. And, yes, each time, I woke up.

So, there you have it. The nitty gritty details. I have put them down here in a very simple way as to not confuse the matter. I have been asked already: "Did it really happen?" Yes, it did and I am sorry it did. I don't ever wish this kind of pain on anyone. I am tired of this stuff. I want it to be over.

I want it to be gone.

I don't know what else to say about this subject. If you have ever been intimate with someone, take that image, turn it ugly - and there you have it. A sexual experience that wasn't really something special. I wish sex was something special to me, but it is really more of a physical act. This I am trying to correct, but it is a long road - or, at least, it has been for me.

I think over the years, the pain of the act itself has gone away. Or, it has been dealt with. What I am most concerned about is whether or not I am prepared to be "normal". I don't really know what normal is.

Thus, I shall continue tomorrow.