I was born in Del Rio, Texas in 1961 to an Air Force family. I was the youngest of five, three boys and two girls. Between myself and the oldest (brother) there was 10 years. We moved a great deal and I think I attended at least 7 different school systems in the US and Canada.

At the age of 2 1/2 my parents noticed I had a "jerk". That started an endless series of trip to the doctors / nuerologists over the next 10 years to try and find what was wrong. I have little to no fine motor control. Things like eating or drinking are very hard for me. For example, if I were to pick up a glass of water there is a good chance I would jerk and drop or throw the glass and or liquid. I use straws. If you just saw me sit, not trying to do any fine motor movement, you would not think I had any problem. Not being able to write, this was before laptops, in the public school system was a challenge. I was held back in the third grade (between two school systems) because I could not write.

Around 10 years of age (I judge much by the house we were living in) my brother (4 years older) came into the bathroom when I was taking a bath. He and I had shared a room for years and he had recently started to get into my bed at night and kiss me, like a kiss between lovers. That led to his fondeling me, and later his coming into the bathroom. He sat by the side of the tub and just reached into the tub and proceeded to masterbate me. I DID NOTHING. Just laid there. I can remember him saying it felt better with soap and seeing him lather up his hand.

That started what would be regular sexual contact that went on for the next two years. It increased from fondeling and masterbation to oral sex and finally anal sex. I can remember laying in bed at night praying he was asleep, and hearing the matress on his bed squeek as he was getting up, and just laying there pretending I was asleep. I can still feel him pulling down my underwear and rolling me over. Later his friend Rick would come over and I can remember the first night Rick spent the night and my brother holding the pillow over my head while I was half on and half of the matress while Rick had anal sex with me. Rick "visited" several times and spent more than a few weekends at our house. I have a letter (my Father kept a file on each of us) from my 5th grade teacher that says "...Kelly's physical and emotional problems are so severe we recommend he go to so sort of rehabilitation." We moved between 5th and 6th grade.

Within a year of the move (now in 6th grade), my oldest brother committed suicide. It was shortly after that the the abuse stopped. I was now 13 and my brother was 17 and a senior in HS. We rarely spoke much after that and in fact he acted like he hated me. Anyway he went on his way after HS and I stayed at home. I was very isolated and withdrawn. My parents attributed that to my neruological problems.

A close friend of my Fathers (whose wife committed suicide a year before), had a daughter a few years older than me but really liked me. John would buy me presents and teach me how to cook, and bring me to his house for the weekends. I was 12 or 13 when he had me shower in his master bath with the door open. Shortly after that he had me sleep in his bed with him, and later had anal sex with me. That stopped when I was 13 or 14 and did not happen many times. John was an alcoholic and died some 10 years later. Again, I never said a word to anyone.

My brother went on to join the Air Force, get kicked out for being Gay, and dying from AIDS in 1992. He was an alcoholic and drug addict. My sisters have since told me he was molested when he was 12.

I never dated a girl more than once and never had sex with a girl until I met my wife when I was 24 and she was 17. I saw her and said that was who I wanted to marry. That is true, before speaking to her I wanted to marry her. We married when she turned 18 and have been married 21 years this August. We have 5 children. It has always been hard for her as I have always remained isolated and interact only with her on any emotional level.

My Mother (also an alcoholic) told me all the time I did not love her because I was not affectionate with her. She used to say how much my brother loved her. When I graduated from high school and they were handing out the senior awards (you know, best athalete, funniest, shyist, best actor) and I did not get anything my Mother said "Nice to know you were so popular." That really hurt and I remember it to this day.

When my brother died in 1992, I started acting out sexually. I hated it, but continued to seek out and engage in sex with men. I went periods of time over the next 14 years, and would go months or years without doing anything. I rose through the ranks at work and became a CFO - all the time working more, talking less, and isolating more.

Six months ago it came crashing down and I started therapy. It was in therapy that I consented to see a nuerologist (something I had refused to do since I was 13 or 14) and finally learned about Myoclonic Dystonia (very rare). And that doctor told me the same genetic defect that causes Myoclonic Dystonia causes obcessive / compulsive disorders, and anxiety problems. He said I was screwed genetically when it came to compulsivity and he was surprised I was still alive and had not taken my own life.

So now I am 46 years old, have changed careers, am going back to school, still in love with my wife, closer than ever with my kids...and life starts anew. There is hope!

Edited by kellygtx (08/01/07 09:13 PM)
I bid you Peace.


The time is always NOW. Breath In. Breath Out. Move On.