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#426810 - 03/01/13 04:54 AM My Long Story Made Short (As Possible).
BraveFalcon Offline

Registered: 02/26/13
Posts: 1231
Loc: The ATL
Hi all. Seeing as this is my introductory post, I'll try not to make it to long-winded. Sorry if it gets that way anyways. I guess this is the part where I have to let everyone know that there may be triggers in this post, so if that could be a problem for any of you, you've been warned.

My name is Ken, I'm 38 years old and I was sexually abused in one way or another for much of my childhood. Some of this abuse came at the hands of much older kids, some of it was perpetrated by kids not much older than me. This isn't the first time I've shared these experiences with others, nor am I new to dealing with them. I first shared my experiences with a close friend of mine when I was 18 and was in a very suicidal state. That friend of mine introduced me to a therapist he knew and I was in therapy for about a year and a half. Since then, I have shared these experiences in other on-line forums a couple of times but haven't in many years. I don't really know what inspired me to come here now and share them again. For some reason, the need to get all this shit off my chest and reach out to others who can identify tends to come and go.

Anyway, when I was about seven or eight I was befriended by some teenage girls who lived in our neighborhood. On at least one occasion, they took me back into the woods behind our apartment and molested me along with a little girl about the same age as me who I will call "M". They had M and I undress and instructed us to do sexual things with each other while they watched, stopping just short of having me penetrate her. I think they may have even tried to get that to happen but I don't think it did. I just remember how my head was swimming and that I didn't understand all the emotions the experience was evoking in me. I didn't even know what sex was yet. I was excited, embarrassed, confused, frightened and ashamed all at one time. I didn't understand why these two teenage girls would want M and I to do all of this weird, naked stuff with each other.

On at least one other occasion one of those teenage girls took me back in those same woods alone and fondled and masturbated me. I distinctly remember her asking me if it "felt good". I told her "yeah" although I wasn't sure it did. Was it supposed to? Why was it supposed to? Why did she want to touch my privates like that? I didn't get any of that. What I did get was that everything that happened back in those woods, had to be a HUGE secret. They told me not to tell anyone but they didn't have to. I would have been so ashamed if my mother found out. It felt SO naughty. So dirty. So shameful. I was so embarrassed.

In that same neighborhood, there was one instance in which the perpetrator was a male teenager. I don't remember if he was affiliated with those two girls but he probably was. All I remember is him pulling his pants down, sticking his ass in my face and instructing me to "kiss his ass". I refused and I don't think I did it. That memory is but a flash in my mind though. I don't know if anything else happened with that boy. I don't think it did, but if it did, it is completely blocked out. What isn't blocked out was the stifling humiliation I felt during that moment and the anger I felt at him for humiliating me like that. He was much older and stronger than me though. There was nothing I could do about it.

I posted a more detailed account of the teenage boy incident here: The Importance Of Remembering

Not more than a year after those experiences, my family moved to a different state. In our new neighborhood there was a girl who I'll call "T". T was only a year older than I but was a lot bigger and was something of a bully. She was also extremely knowledgeable about sex. Looking back, I'm almost certain she was being sexually abused by someone. Possibly by her father or older brother although she never divulged anything like that to me.

My first experiences with her were very similar to those with the teenage girls in my old neighborhood. At first, I didn't want her to do the things she did to me and I even kind of hated her for the humiliation she made me feel. That didn't last though. Before long, I would grow to seek out her sexual attention constantly. By the time I was 9 or 10, I was totally obsessed with sex and pornography. T's father had a vast wealth of graphic pornography which she was glad to show me any time we were alone in her house, which was fairly often. At that point, there were also a few other kids involved in all this from time to time. One being T's age. A couple others who were my age and at least one who was a year or so younger than I. T was always the "ringleader" though.

Even after I grew to seek out T's sexual attention, there was always a dynamic of sexual bullying she subject me to. At times, her and one of the other girls would get me to strip naked, do things to get me excited, then would make fun of me for it. They would make fun of my body and call me names and tell me I was ugly. I remember some of those instances ended in me putting on my clothes and running away from her house crying. I hated her for being so mean to me and for humiliating me but every time I came back for more.

Even when everything was "consensual" and there was no sexual bullying taking place, none of it ever felt right. It all took place under this shroud of suffocating secrecy and, for me, with an undercurrent of almost debilitating shame. Like there was a chunk of shame the size and mass of Mt. Everest, all shrunken down and condensed and crammed into my preteen head. This didn't end until I was in my early teens and we moved away again, this time just to the other side of town. T and I gradually lost touch after that. I spoke to her once about 15 years ago when she randomly called me on the phone. The conversation was a pleasant one, but that was the last time we spoke.

Since then, my life has basically been a whirlwind of shit. I can't sit here and blame everything on my childhood but the experiences I had back then did impact me and mold who I am today on the very deepest and most profound level imaginable. I've been through a lot of addiction and have severe sexual and emotional problems that most other adults don't have. Most of that will never go away. I haven't given up any of my addictions necessarily but have learned to corral and compartmentalize them into the life of a functional, fully-employed adult.

The sexual/emotional issues are just a part of who I am now. I have only had sex a few times in my adult life and have had only one serious girlfriend, which lasted about a year. After that, she got sick of my aloofness, my disinterest and my rare willingness to have sex with her. Funny thing is, she was one of the people I told about my childhood BEFOREHAND, and she still wanted me! LOL! I fucking warned her I was damaged goods outright and even used that language. "Believe me, I'm damaged goods. The last thing you want is a relationship with me." Oh well, she learned. We don't speak anymore.

See, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep that shit from getting long-winded. Again, I'm not sure why I really wanted to post all this other than to get it off my chest again. I'm not in therapy and I don't really want any "recovery" past what I've already accomplished because I don't believe it's possible. In fact, for me, at this point, I don't even know what would constitute or define "recovery". For one, I don't want any kind of relationship or intimacy with anyone, ever again. That's not me saying "Boo-hoo, I wish I could be with someone who loved me but I can't because of my issues". No, I really just don't want it, or want to want it, or give a shit at all. It's like that part of me is broken completely.

I've considered going back into therapy before but I'm not sure what the point would be. When I have discussed going back into therapy with people I know who are in therapy they've always asked me what my goals would be. Goals? I don't know. What could they possibly be? I honestly have no idea. So, I suppose there is no point. Can't afford therapy anyway. Need that money for beer and stuff. Ha ha!

Anyway, if anyone has read all this crap, thank you. I know it was long and probably not that compelling. That's my long story made short though. As short as possible, anyway. I'll probably stick around and try to contribute if you guys can put up with me. Thanks again for reading. Peace out.

Edited by BraveFalcon (05/05/13 12:57 AM)

#426816 - 03/01/13 07:10 AM Re: My Long Story Made Short (As Possible). [Re: BraveFalcon]
cuda Offline

Registered: 02/06/12
Posts: 22
Loc: TN
Trigger warning:

This is a place to vent and unload. Please use all the help you can get from it.

My first abuse was when I was 5 yrs. a 13 year old boy sodomized my 7 yr old sister in front of me than tried to do me.

The family moved away after my dad talked to his parents.

That sister and I played with each others parts after that.

And I found dads porn mags.

I wouldn't go pee in first grade because some older boys had stood on the toilet to watch me pee. So I peed my pants some time that year.

When we moved and I started at a new school I was in 5th grade and the older boys asked me if I was gay "and of course I was Happy so I said YES". never lived that down.

Thankfully I went to a different high school than most of that group.

As a teenager one of my sisters boy friends was Bi and one night I had to sleep in his bed with him and never having to share a bed with anyone and being a teenager I had a hard-on so he took advantage of the issue by lubing up his legs and balls and told me that if I humped this balls that it would be close to what it felt like to do a girl.

Mom and Dad got a divorce when I was 17 and I stayed with my Dad.
Dad and I went an a trip and we had to share a bed and hard-on again but rather than not noticing it dad gave me a hand job.

Back home things ramped up 69ing, showering, sleeping together, and penetration Watching porn together sucking each other off.
This lasted for about a year and a half we both knew that it wasn't right and we shouldn't be doing it but we still did. He even showed and coached me on f---ing a cow. This I were it gets hard and confusing he was never abusive or demanding, I think that we became best friends and lovers. I had a girlfriend at some time and he remarried but that marriage didn't last long.
He moved back in with me after that marriage ended. We started doing things again.

I broke up with girlfriend and joined the Army.

Fast forward 5 yrs married that girlfriend. Been married for 20 yrs. wife had hysterectomy and midlife what little sex drive that she had reduced to once every 2-3 months.

I get did a couple MSM adventures. And became HIV+ still married for now.

I think that I don't really see me Dad as an abuser.
Fighting My Many Headed Dragon

My Story

#426831 - 03/01/13 11:54 AM Re: My Long Story Made Short (As Possible). [Re: cuda]
BraveFalcon Offline

Registered: 02/26/13
Posts: 1231
Loc: The ATL
Originally Posted By: cuda
Trigger warning:
I wouldn't go pee in first grade because some older boys had stood on the toilet to watch me pee. So I peed my pants some time that year.

Wow. Strange that you posted this in your reply to me because almost the EXACT same thing happened to me in the sixth grade. When I went into a stall to piss, three seventh grade boys who I didn't know crowded the stall door behind me and just stood there. I couldn't make myself pee no matter how I tried and they started laughing at me. I had to run out of there without peeing, which made them laugh even more. I didn't piss my pants but having to hold it until I got another chance to pee was almost painful.

I suppose I can't really call that an abuse/molestation experience but some of the emotions it evoked in me were the same. Humiliation, shame, embarrassment, a feeling of being very small and powerless. Only in recent years have I again been able to use public restrooms without being able to use a stall with a door and a lock on it. I still can't use a non-stalled urinal without a door on it unless I have to pee REALLY bad or unless I'm really drunk or something.

Originally Posted By: cuda
I think that I don't really see me Dad as an abuser.

I'm not sure anyone can define whether or not your dad was an abuser but you. You were basically an adult (almost) when it happened but that doesn't make it not abuse. I've even talked to people who claim to have had sexual experiences with adults as children that they didn't see as abusive but I've always had to question whether those people were being very honest with themselves. A father is in an innate position of power and authority no matter how old you are, so, if anything, I think a father trying to be sexual with one of his adult children is inappropriate at the very least and downright abusive at worst. Also, a sexual relationship doesn't have to be necessarily "abusive" to be wrong at it's very core. For example, a college professor can loose his/her job for having sex with an adult student, partly because he/she is in a position of power and authority over that student, which makes the sexual relationship inappropriate and unprofessional even if it isn't abusive. That said, it would be the professor's responsibility to avoid and even turn down a sexual relationship with a student, even if the student started it and was an adult, because it was the professor who was in the position of authority, not the student. I suppose what I'm ultimately trying to say is, there can be a very fine line between a relationship that is sexually abusive and one that is just very sexually inappropriate. A VERY fine line. If you have't already, you should probably explore the things that happened with your father very deeply in front of a therapist. I think you may be in some denial about the abusive nature of what happened, but again, I can't be the one to determine that. Only you can. Good luck with that.

#426836 - 03/01/13 01:36 PM Re: My Long Story Made Short (As Possible). [Re: BraveFalcon]
Jude Offline

Registered: 08/09/12
Posts: 1633
Loc: New England
BraveFalcom and Cuda,

Welcome to MS. Thanks for your incredible honesty in telling your stories. It is so sad that you both had to endure what happened to you as boys. All our stories are different, but much of the outcomes in our lives are similar: twisted sexuality and dysfunction, addictions, difficulty in relationships, self-hatred, goes on and on. You are not alone.

Read all you can manage here, and post when you feel comfortable doing so. MS can be a great tool in recovery if used. Keep up the good work guys.

I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories
Sarah McLachlan

#427848 - 03/12/13 02:39 PM . [Re: BraveFalcon]
Life's A Dream Offline

Registered: 08/25/11
Posts: 886
Loc: Bouvet Island

Edited by Life's A Dream (04/22/13 02:43 AM)

#427886 - 03/13/13 03:38 AM Re: My Long Story Made Short (As Possible). [Re: Life's A Dream]
BraveFalcon Offline

Registered: 02/26/13
Posts: 1231
Loc: The ATL
Hi LAD. Sorry to hear that you're struggling with suicide ideation. I've been through years when my suicide ideation was almost obsessive. These days my life seems a bit more livable, although I do still struggle with depression, hopelessness, anger and often feel emotionally dead and empty on the inside. Those last two probably being my primary states of mind normally. Emotionally dead and empty. I suppose I've gotten really good over the years at not feeling emotions I don't want to feel. God knows I've have A LOT of practice.

I can't say that my suicidal thoughts were normally as elaborate as the last two you listed. Normally I would just fantasize about buying a gun, putting it in my mouth and pulling the fucking trigger. The good old-fashioned way. OD'ing was one that I thought about a lot. I also used to fantasize about slashing my wrists a lot but I never would have had the stomach to actually go through with that one. When I used to cut myself I never even really had the courage to go deeper than the first few layers of skin. Maybe draw a little bit of superficial blood but not more than that. I would rub the razor up and down my wrists sometimes though and just fantasize about gashing it in.

Your mentioning lighting yourself on fire and skydiving without a parachute does resonate with me though. I have told people (half-jokingly) that if I ever killed myself they'd find out when they turned on the evening news and heard that some guy climbed to the top of the Bank of America Tower dressed as Superman, lit himself on fire and jumped off. That way my suicide wouldn't be some boring, run-of-the-mill suicide but one that would be remembered and talked about. Twenty years later, people in this town would still say, "Hey remember the time that dude climbed to the top of the Bank of America Tower dressed as Superman, lit himself on fire and jumped off? That was fucked up!"

Anyway, if I went to a therapist and they asked me what my "goals" were, I think I'd have to ask them "what should they be?" Goals? What are those? Where the fuck does a guy like me find fucking goals in life?

My goals? Here we go... My short-term goals are to get through my work day as quickly as possible tomorrow, run whatever errands I need to run, go to the gym and get home so I can have as much chill time as possible before I need to go to sleep. Oh, and to watch last Sunday's episode of The Walking Dead. I was going to watch it tonight but now it's to late. My goal for the weekend is to find some weed. I haven't smoked up in a few weeks and I want to this weekend. My mid-term goal is to buy Assassin's Creed 3 and beat it. Also Super Mario Galaxy 2 and Bioshock Infinite. My long term goal is to pay off my car. Oh, and to save up enough money to visit my brother in Hawaii. (He's in the Air Force and is going to be stationed there for the next four years).

There, see! I do have goals. Not sure how a therapist is supposed to help me with those though. In fact, I can achieve most of those goals pretty well on my own. That doesn't mean I don't need therapy. It just means I can't think of any "goals" therapy could help me achieve. Part of the reason I've avoided any kind of therapy for so long. Take care. Peace.


#445078 - 08/22/13 12:30 PM Re: My Long Story Made Short (As Possible). [Re: BraveFalcon]
Jak Offline

Registered: 07/18/13
Posts: 9
Hello Ken cool I read your short long story smile It was good and I am glad you came here and got to blow off some steam.
I think it does us good to just talk about where we are in an open honest way and you did that very skillfully.
I can only imagine what that must have been like being that young and being forced into sexual awareness in that way.
I can relate to a lot of your feelings now. I feel alone even though I am married. My wife and I no longer have sexual relations. I was damaged goods also from the beginning. And so is she. So we are 2 broken people trying to get through this life together. I have accepted that. I don't know if I will ever be able to fully recover either. I have managed to quit smoking dope and cigarettes and I have quit drinking alcohol and doing recreational drugs. But the porn and sex addictions I just can't seem to quit.
You may have the right idea just maintain and live with it the best you can.
In general PEOPLE SUCK they are mean and deceptive and selfish and they cause you much pain. So stay way policy is a good one although it gets very lonely too.
Well now I have gotten long winded. I have not been a member here long but have learned a lot from reading what these others have had to endure.
It's a miracle some of them have not just blown their heads off.
Anyway for what it's worth .... there it is...Peace out. laugh
When you die, where will you spend eternity?

#445160 - 08/23/13 12:24 AM Re: My Long Story Made Short (As Possible). [Re: Jak]
BraveFalcon Offline

Registered: 02/26/13
Posts: 1231
Loc: The ATL
Holy crap! This is one very old thread that I never expected to see resurrected. Wow!

Hi Jak. Thanks man. I am glad you've found MS and thank you for taking the time to read my story. Congrats on your being able to quit some of your addictions. I quit smoking cigarettes over 13 years ago but that's pretty much the only addiction I've ever willingly conquered. The daily booze and the occasional pot I don't think I'll ever give up until the former kills me. I don't even care. The ability to drink is pretty much the only thing that keeps me from blowing my brains out. I know they say you can't heal if you're self-medicating but I really don't think it's possible for me to heal anymore than I already have anyway. The healing that can be done has been done already and the painful, ugly scars that are left will never go away.

Thanks again for your reply. I hope you find MS helpful and useful. Take care. Peace,


Edited by BraveFalcon (08/23/13 09:27 AM)

#445162 - 08/23/13 12:31 AM Re: My Long Story Made Short (As Possible). [Re: BraveFalcon]
victor-victim Offline

Registered: 09/27/03
Posts: 6387
Loc: 𝒪 𝒦anada
what a life, ken.

i am glad you made it through all that.
at least you have come this far.
that is a lot of baggage to deal with for sure.

glad this thread got bumped up or i might never have seen your long short story.


#445214 - 08/23/13 06:55 AM Re: My Long Story Made Short (As Possible). [Re: BraveFalcon]
Onesimus75 Offline

Registered: 08/22/13
Posts: 158
Loc: Minnesota
One thing I know from reading your story is that it is not crap. It's courageous.
You were really gut-honest and that takes, well, guts for one thing.
I think of you more as a wounded warrior than "damaged goods" like you told your girlfriend at the time.
Keep being honest. Keep being strong.
Thank you for telling your story.
We are not defined by our faults, or our wounds, but by the truth within us, which nothing can take away.

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