The last time Mr Candale abused me at the end of it. He forced me to stand in his bathroom and watch him beat off into the tiolet until he came. It was the most rebulsive and sexually arousing experience of my life. From that time on I have had a fixation on masturbation.Even thu I did not really understand what it was about. When i became old enought to orgasm. It seem that masturbation till orgasm was a gift from god.It became my hobby,my pastime and my first and most powerful addiction. Then I found porn again and it increased the pleasure a thousand fold.
Between my mother who was an paranoid schizaphrenic whose behaviors taught me not to trust women,to my emotionally absent father. I learned that to survive it was up to me to take care of my own needs alone.
Mike, a lot of what you just said there rings with me. One of the last things I experienced before my cousin attempted to sodomize me (which was when I went to my parents) was masturbate in front of me. I was 8 or 9 years old. I had never seen anything like it before, obviously. It was really the first time I had ever seen somebody with an erection. Before that even when my cousin had made me try oral on him he didn't have one, and I had never had one before whether he tried it on me or not.
In order to get me to watch, he told me "Hey, I gotta show you something. I learned how to ejaculate" and then told me how that meant you were becoming a man, etc. etc. Up until my therapy appointment on Monday, I didn't realize that that was a kind of grooming behavior of his. When things weren't sexual, we were hanging out doing things that were mutually enjoyable. Furthermore, he sometimes would have me sit down and read anatomy books with him where it would display the reproductive system of males and then would have me read about puberty and sexual functions etc. and so on. As I realize this it scares me to think about how this was almost akin to brainwashing, does that sound right? This made the abuse seem like it should have just been another one of those things, just hanging out. No big deal.
Anyways, I watched curiously what he was doing, and I don't know if you could say I was repulsed or not, it was more like I was thinking "Wow, I'm sure if somebody opened the door right now there'd be a whole lot of trouble". But anyways, he finished up (to a nine year old I had never seen anybody enjoy anything so much, and then of course what the hell was the white stuff, I had never seen that before) and then everything just went back to normal family interaction.
I became curious about masturbation after that, and even though I was in fourth grade (or maybe even third, I can't recall clearly) I tried to make the white stuff come out, but I would never actually do what I had watched him do. For some reason I thought to myself "that must be a perverted thing to do, I don't wanna go down that road and be the same as him". But I would sit there and try to make myself ejaculate by just sitting there with an erection and trying to think really really really hard about making the white stuff come out.
In sixth grade I finally figured out how after I read about an orgasm in readers digest, and asked my parents about it that night. After they told me, I went upstairs to go take my shower and did it for the first time. It hurt, but it felt kind of good and it also left me with a sense of "whoa, did I really just do that? I can do that? Does that mean that I'm becoming a man now?" ANd for me that was a pretty big moment. I was 11 years old. But along with that I also thought that it meant that I was a pervert now too, and the more and more I became involved in it (and I did it a lot, it felt so good and it was such a new feeling) the worse I felt, until eventually you start hearing from your friends that they were doing it to, and then you realize you're "normal" and you stop freaking out. After that, every time I did it I would try and imitate exactly what my cousin had done, right down to where he had been standing in my room. In order to make sure I was doing it right, I would stand in front of a mirror to try and make sure I was lined up right. This is disturbing to me now on a completely different level, why I don't know. I eventually grew out of that, although for probably a good two years it was part of the routine.
I also noticed that I was not as well endowed as my cousin, and as a result I would try and play around with shadows or whatever to try and make myself look bigger. I realize now that this was an obsession of mine and definitely would not have had the same taint to it if I had never experienced this from my cousin, but then one thing led to another. I became obsessed about it. I thought everybody was bigger than I was, and that would kill me. I would try to imagine how other people I knew who I thought were better endowed than I was felt when they were masturbating. I became more obsessed with anatomy books. There was a diagram in one encyclopedia where I would sit down in front of a picture showing the transition from boyhood to puberty to adulthood, and I would trace over the pictures. What the hell part of that indicates something healthy? Nothing. It was fucking weird.
Then I eventually started to fantasize, but the fantasies were about me being like my cousin, or some other person I knew, it was never about me. I would fantasize about like a disembodied penis having sex with a disembodied vagina, that was one of the first ones. I didn't often fantasize about girls until I was older, I would think about what other people I knew were like and pictured them as being my cousin instead of me, stuff like that that I clearly draw a line to as being influenced by that first experience with him. Eventually, as I got older those fantasies where I had focused on my cousin, myself, or other guys I knew who I thought were more well endowed then I was. became gay, but they were right there with heterosexual fantasies as well. The only common thing was that I was never involved in my own fantasies. Other people were. I could fantasize about two of my friends having sex, or I could fantasize about a guy I knew having sex with a girl I knew, but until I was maybe 16 or 17 I couldn't put myself into those fantasies.
I think a large part of that had to with the fact that because I was so unpopular in school, from 3rd or 4th grade up until high school,I was regularly subjected to being called a fag, a queer, or whatever else. At first I was so resistant to that, but then again, were they calling me that because they knew about me and my cousin? When I thought about that, I thought "maybe they're right". On top of that, the sexual fantasies that the abuse influenced definitely coincided with them taking on homosexual flavor. I would also have reactions to mostly naked male figures, I.E. I remember this one underwear add that had a very very well endowed model, and I used to get an erection from seeing that. My Therapist believes that this was because at this point I had become so sexualized by my cousin to only men, as he never ever talked about women in front of me or tried showing me anything about them. So naturally when I realized all those things I thought to myself, "wait a minute, am I really gay?" I concluded over that weekend that I probably wasn't, but would need to come back to it later on to see what was there.
It was like even then I knew that my "gay" behaviors so to speak didn't seem to stem naturally from an intrinsic desire to be with a man. I didn't have any crushes on any of my male friends, although some of them I would hang out with because I felt they were the idealized version of what I was trying to become myself. Tall, strong, popular with girls, etc. I was also really kind of upset at the fact that NO girl I went to school with would ever consider dating me cause I was such a loser (would I have thought this if I was really gay? I don't know). I was absolutely obsessed, because of what my cousin had said to me about being a man and becoming a man, with becoming this highly idealized great looking dude who would be ripped, really strong, and have a huge penis and girls all over him. The reality of it was that I was in ok shape, but far from being a bathing suit model, and I was only average, I wasn't hung like a porn star. That left me feeling insufficient for a long time. I'm still pissed that I don't have a six pack and like 2% body fat, but thats a different rant.
Another fantasy of mine also involved visualizing the people at school who made fun of me having sex with each other. In my mind, they were now the gay ones. I had effeminized them, they were the ones who were really gay, not me. But I would still get off on that fantasy. Weird, kind of disturbing, and I still haven't been able to make sense of it. But that's how it is.
For me the discovery of porn was also awesome too. I used to cruise sights with it with my best friend, who had at that point been my best friend since the year my abuse stopped, so probably 3 or 4 years and is now, close to 13 years later still my best friend. I digress though. We would cruise porn sites for ages. I would always wanna jerk off to it, but I was at his house and since we were both looking at it on the same computer, he was not allowing it. Of course I didn't see anything wrong with it, my cousin had jerked off right in front of me before, the hell did I care. But those were the rules. Even still, every time we looked at porn, I always asked, even though the answer was always the same. But at any rate, I def. liked porn, and the second my internet got upgraded to high speed and I figured out how to clear my history, I was on the internet watching movies. Ahhh, life was good, and very fun at that point.
But then something happened. I opened an e-mail I got and it was an advert for gay porn. Imagine how startled I was when the picture in the e-mail, aside from some minor difference, looked EXACTLY like my cousin. Even more startling was that I noticed I had a sizable erection from it. To me, I was not happy that I was seeing gay porn and responding to it with an erection. I felt awful about that. Throughout my teens that would occur, always by accident, at least three or four times, and it left me feeling bad each and every time I encountered it, but I knew I was aroused by it. I believe this is what led me to experiment with gay porn around the age of 18, shortly before I graduated high school. For a while I guess I liked those websites. They were different, I was aroused by them, but what the hell, I was straight. I was hooking up with girls, I had just had a girl friend, I knew I got very very aroused whenever she would kiss me, touch me, etc, so why was I also into this? This continued until I was 20, and every year I was slowly becoming more and more socially withdrawn and trapping myself in that world where if I wasn't busy I was watching porn, and by then it was gay porn more often than not. But I was still straight. Where the hell was this coming from? I knew my cousin had abused me, but that couldn't have affected me all that much. It was no big deal, right?
Finally I had a nervous breakdown, about a year ago. I got into therapy, I've spilled my guts out to my T, and both therapists (I work with two different ones) have both told me "I would bet the hole in a donut that you're not gay, but for some reason every time you doubt yourself you fly into this loop where you're convinced you are. Think about it, you've been doing that since you were in middle school, we're creatures of habit."
Since I started EMDR with one of them, my urges to check gay porn to question my sexuality have gone. I have no desire to look. But another part of that is that every time I start questioning whether I'm gay or straight, I used to go read articles online about sexual confusion. That part of the questioning is still there. I read articles about people coming out obsessively all over the internet. I read pamphlets and articles out on the net about sexual orientation and confusion. They only make me more nervous and more unsure. I have a tendency to take everything I read in those articles and I try to force them to apply to myself. I've discussed this with my therapists, and they both tell me "That's not how gay people behave OR react when they're coming out, or even when they're in the closet. You're behaviors and your feelings absolutely do not match any kind of pattern for a person who feels they are homosexual." They've both worked with plenty of gay clients before, from all over. But they tell me every time, I don't seem to fit that pattern. I agree with them, whenever I talk about it or write about it as I am here, it all seems to make sense. My confusion stems from what happened between me and my cousin. But my problem is that even when I try to masturbate now, I'm so confused I don't even know what to fantasize about. Normally I fantasize about women, but if I do that when I'm confused it becomes "What if you're forcing yourself to fantasize about women? Fantasize about men instead." But when I do that I go "Is this really what I want or feel comes naturally to me? I feel like I'm forcing myself to do this too". I've fantasized to both before, for YEARS. But now, the self doubt has gotten to such a point that I can't even sort my thoughts when I'm trying to enjoy a moment alone. I don't know where to go in my EMDR to find the roots of these things either. Before I could identify a memory to access a cognition that I could work on, but now I have nothing. I meditate on it. Hell, I just missed my entire first class of the day today writing this out, but I needed to put this down on some kind of media. In my heart I feel like I'm heterosexual, to the point where I really know that I am. But this self doubt says to me all the time "You're not, look at your past. You're lying to yourself, you're forcing yourself to think this way." And when it does fire up, I say to myself "ok, so try to accept being gay to yourself, don't try and fight it, just let it sit and don't fight it." So I do that, and I think about it, and what happens is that I start feeling less of the voice. If I try and fantasize about gay things, I have no reaction to them. I don't get into them, I don't enjoy them. But on the other hand if I'm worried about them, they somehow become more arousing. I've done this enough times to the point where if I was really gay, I think I would have acknowledged that. I have completely objectively stripped down all my defense mechanisms and resistance mechanisms so many times, and "accepted" it, but in the end I see that for me it's hollow, there's nothing there for me. I know that I'm strait, but whenever I reaffirm that and acknowledge that, the self doubt comes back and causes me to question again. Why? I don't know. It's like I know I'm straight, but the questioning won't go away. The impulses and compulsions from before have been cut away by quite a bit, but why are the questions still there? That almost makes the funk that the confusion puts me in even worse. For two months there I saw the other side, I saw what it was like to be happy and not have that confusion bother me, and now that I'm back in that rut again it just seems more hopeless. That makes it even more confusing, and also more bleak.
When I was in 8th grade, 13/14 years old, my parents split up. I don't know why, but I didn't feel any pain or sadness about it. It was just happening. I think that when I heard the news, my initial reaction was "no way" but in order to except it, I emotionally deadened that part of my heart. "People are only hurt by relationships. This is how marriages end up. There's no such thing as love. If I leave my heart open like that, I will be so completely destroyed by something like this happening to me that I won't be able to function anymore." That was what I decided. I want to reverse all that now, but it's been too long, and I shut off my heart so easily. If only it was that easy to open it up again. My Dad, after loosing the house, came back to it one night late at night drunk and sobbing. All I could hear from my room was him crying his eyes out. My mom went out to see if he was ok. They just kept yelling at each other. She was a mess, on medication for a nervous disorder. The medication made her basically paralyzed, she couldn't see, and she was also emotionally devastated. In addition to becoming a part time shrink who tried to comfort and console her constantly, I was also subject to her fits of crying, screaming, and rage. I would do my best not to get angry, but when I did it got so bad that one time I almost tore our dishwasher right out of the wall. On top of that, my sister, who was already extremely emotionally and verbally abusive towards me, reacted with more anger than I thought was physically possible. She constantly told me to kill myself, berated me for not having any friends, told me I was a waste of life, told me that I could never be married and that if I did I would be a horrible husband and abuse my wife, just because when she would launch into these tirades about me I would get angry back. Who wouldn't. It didn't really stop until one day when I was minding my own business, she started in on me again. I almost broke the keyboard in half, threw her in a chair onto the ground, and was screaming at her. I was purple. I told her I was going to fucking kill her, and that she made me like that, it was her own damned fault. She would get in fights like that with my Mom too though. Eventually my Mom kicked her out and sent her to live with my Dad. She's apologized to me now, but unfortunately that apology can't fix everything that happened. Because of that I can't connect emotionally to women, I just freeze. I'm intimidated, because I assume that if I go and talk to a girl or ask her out, I will immediately be laughed at, told I'm a loser, told I can't do anything right, etc. and so on.
Throughout all this, my Dad, who tried to be there for us as well as he could but at the same time couldn't stand to see my mother or his house that he was forced to leave, really did do his best. But we could only see him once a week and every other weekend, and with all the other stuff going on in my life and no support from my Dad or anybody else, who did I have to turn to? I spent my time staying at friends houses during the day for as long as I possibly could to avoid being home. The family across the street from me that I used to babysit for took care of me constantly too. I got out of my house and could watch the kids for her while she got her other stuff done. Those people became my second family, my other Mom and Dad and my four younger brothers. That was my only escape.
But during that time, my Dad had such a limited role in what he could do for me, and before he left I always felt like he was disappointed in me. I never really liked sports, and I was hypersensitive to criticism or being made fun of. I was very very shy too. I was also lazy. As such, it got to a point where he would say "whats the matter with you, why do you sit down on the damned nintendo instead of going outside and playing football or basketball? If I was mowing the lawn or doing yardwork and I didn't do it exactly how he wanted it down, I was subject to strings or verbal abuse. "what are you stupid? If you weren't sitting in front of a damned TV on your ass all the time maybe you'd know how to do this by now." But the worst was when I was mowing the lawn and he was talking to our neighbors that lived down the street, and I came up to say hello. His response to me was, "Do you think that yard looks finished? Get back to work numb nuts." I wanted to fucking kill him for embarrassing me like that. But that's how it was with him. I was numb nuts or jackass, I couldn't do anything right, and then boom suddenly he's gone, I have to deal with these two women who are completely out of their god damned minds, and I don't know a damned thing about how I was supposed to deal with it. I was 14, and I remember being said because instead of being 14 and crazy and enjoying my life, being carefree and whatever, I was sick in the head from what had happened to me from my cousin and where that was going, combined with being totally abandoned and left on my own, forced to grow up in a toxic environment. That spring I didn't turn 15, I turned 43. I don't remember most of high school. What life did I have that I would want to remember?
Between those two situations, who am I? What happened? How did those events impact me? I've explored the CSA quite a bit, I know how that impacted me more or less. There's still more work to be done there. But even when that's been resolved, the self doubt and all those negative beliefs about myself come from that emotional deadness that I forced myself into to deal what I dealt with. How can I possibly fix that if I can't even remember what happened during those years?
Mike, I'm sorry for such a rant. I just want to let you know that I too live my sexual life almost exclusively with masturbation and pornography, and shitload of confusion. I identified with a lot of those statements you made, and I just wanted to let you know how crazy this stuff has driven me. Keep on truckin man, best wishes.