I posted this in another section and it was recommended that I post it here as well. I can only hope that by posting it here some good will come of it.
Thank you all for being so supportive. This isn't something easy to discuss as I'm sure all of you know.
I was recently (past 4 years) in college working on my bachelors degree. I was thrilled to finally complete it, but the benefit of being a student was free counseling. During this time I was formally diagnosed as a dissociative with DID. I don't think this will have any bearing here, but there it is.
I guess in order for everything to make sense, I have to start at the beginning. I'll try to keep it short but some sense of this is necessary to see where I'm coming from.
I grew up in a small town in the middle of nowhere in the south central US. Self proclaimed "buckle of the bible belt" and they live up to that mentality. Dad was a drill instructor in the US Army and as you can expect, wasn't the kindest person in the world. His worldview of "no son of mine is gonna be gay" was rocked when both of his sons and only children are. There was no love in our family at all. Growing up in this household taught me that "family" is the ultimate swear word. To this day I don't relate well to families, whether on tv or among other people.
There was some sort of major trauma to me shortly after my first birthday. Medical exams have shown that all the ribs on one side of my chest were broken, and that it had to happen within a year or two after birth. It would have been life threatening, but both of my parents have "no idea" of what it was.
So I grew up a bit. I learned that there was the right way, the wrong way, and dad's way and you can guess which was the most important. I learned that others have no value, but that they can harm you and so I became a loner.
A week after my 8th birthday I was raped the first of many times. A stranger moved in with his extended family down the street. The entire family were a bit weird and their two kids were the area bullies so I think there was a lot going on. The rapes happened 4-5 times a week for around 4 months and then he moved elsewhere. I don't know how old he was, but he was still in high school and at least 16 (had a drivers license).
What was cruel and truly messed with me was this. He got me to cooperate because he told me point blank if I didn't he would kill my mom. Mom was the only thing that kept me even remotely sane and I couldn't stand the thought of having to live with dad if mom wasn't around. So at 8 years old I chose to allow myself to be raped rather than risk living with my dad.
This whole thing left me convinced that "gay" as I then understood it was people who hurt kids and I began to hate them. It went so far in fact that when a kid on the bus who I had spoken to a time or two came out to me, I freaked, screamed, hit, and made fun of him on the bus. He shot himself in the head that night and left my name in his suicide note.
Two years later I got sick with a then unidentified form of mumps that destroyed my testes and left me sterile and unable to produce testosterone. As a result I have zero sex drive, or very close to it.
I survived a number of other events, and eventually was thrown out of my parents house and found a place for myself. I was in college and while I knew that I found guys more attractive, my own self-hatred and non-existent sex drive kept it buried.
I met a few friends (good old D&D), met a young lady there who had a crush on me, and after 6 months of stealth dating (yes, I was clueless and we "dated" w/o my knowing it) I finally realized what was going on. Actually, she told me. We were married, and to date have been married for 15 years.
Things went south around age 30 when we went to doctors about trying to have kids. Doc put me on testosterone skin patches and all of a sudden a whole new can of worms opened up. I had a sex drive, was attracted to men, and had none of the self control that most guys have. It seems that since my body didn't produce testosterone, I missed out on the "wonder years" of puberty and so never learned the self-control that most guys struggle with at that age. So basically, I was going through puberty at 30.
Anyway, here's my situation and why I'm here. I have become an emotional eunuch. The only emotion I can even recognize is anger. I'm sure I feel the others, but have no idea what they are or what to do about them. I stay depressed all of the time and my only way out of it is to concentrate on one thing to extreme degrees. It's left me completely out of balance. I don't seem to have the ability to do things for short periods of time. Instead I pick one thing, focus on it until I burn out on it, and then find something else. It means I can't work on say, a hobby, because I do it for 2 weeks, burn out, and then on to something else.
The worst thing is about sex though. I've avoided it my whole life. I love my wife, but I think it's not in the way that spouses are supposed to love each other. Granted, I have *very* little knowledge of love but I can admit that what I found in her was the very first love I'd felt (not even from parents) and I jumped when I found it without really understanding.
I can't handle being touched by anyone. I am terrified of men to the point that being near them scares me witless. Kind of tough for a gay man.
I'm getting ready to start a new phase of my life, but there are so many doubts hanging over my head and I don't know what to do about them. If I were to choose to leave my wife, this new phase is the perfect time to do so. It wouldn't be easy - but it might be the right thing to do. The problem is that I don't have enough information to make that kind of decision and worse yet, can't think of a way to get there from where I am.
I've been reading on the forums here, and realized that much of what I'm going through stems from the rape. It was an unexpected gift to be able to find others who can at last relate to what I'm going through.
One last thing that is important. I grew up in an area renowned for abuse of gays. I knew a guy in high school that was beaten to death because someone "thought" he was gay. His girlfriend delivered his child a few months later. Since most of this was based on religious views, I rather quickly developed a strong distaste for religion in general. While neither being good nor bad, this does mean that one other source of comfort or friendship is denied me as I simply can't handle the surge of emotions when the topic comes up. That's one of many failings of mine.