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#30852 - 03/05/04 02:28 AM Remembering the emotional experience of abuse
wrangler Offline

Registered: 09/06/03
Posts: 84
Loc: Northern Virginia
I am slowly working my way through the memories of what is was really like for me during my abuse. This is a very emotional process and, so far, has been pretty painful too. I sometimes talk to people about what happened... the facts I mean. But I have pretty much kept the actually experience locked away.

My first few efforts at writing anything about what it was like were futile... it was not until I read crisispoint's play in the UMF that I thought about trying to write this in the fitst person. And that proved very effective.

It took several days for me to decide to post this here, but now I think I am ready. Please try to take care of yourself if you decide to read the rest of this post. I think it probably contains some pretty potent stuff. If the moderators think it would be better off in the UMF, by all means send it there. I debated about where to put it and finally settled on here because it felt a little like I was trying to hide it by sticking it in a less frequented forum.

To give this a little context, Robert abused me from 16 to about 20 or so. This writing is a sort of collage of emotions during that time.

Anyway, here goes...


It is a sunny day, and warm. I have all of the windows on my car rolled down and the radio up real loud. I feel free, like the whole world is spread out before me and I feel lonely, because my life seems so empty. Now I am driving the long and lonely roads through the country to Robert’s house. Mostly I am not thinking about what I am doing, but now and again my thoughts wander. I get an erection as I think about letting Robert touch me and as the erection grows, the feeling of emptiness seems to subside, and for I while I drive on in that euphoric state of desire and expectation.

Then I am turning into his driveway and I can feel my gut churning. There are so many confusing thoughts and feelings swirling inside me but with effort I can ignore all but one… this might be the time that Robert says we are not doing those things anymore. This might be the time he acknowledges how much it hurts and confuses me. Robert is not home, but I try the door anyway. He knows that I am in town and the door is unlocked. I know that he left it open for me… an invitation.

I sit on the couch to wait. The living room is small and the shutters are nearly drawn. It is very dim and much cooler than it was outside. And there are smells… ones I never really could put a name on, but I knew them very well. Robert was a very rugged man and there were all sorts of oils associated with that… gun oil, leather cleaner, camera chemicals… and somewhere is the smell of sex. My eyes are closed as I sit in the dim room listening to the clock on the mantle. I do not know what I really want anymore… the feelings are too confused and too mixed with the expectation of sex and acceptance. Then I hear a car in the drive.

Now Robert is sitting beside me on the couch. I had wished that he would sit at the other end, or in another chair, but he takes his usual spot next to me, but not quite close enough that we are touching. I want to scream, or run away, but I want to stay too. I want Robert to say no, even though he hears me clamoring for sex. I want him to take care of me, and deep down I know this is not…. I feel his hand on my leg, just resting against my thigh. It is as though he is testing the waters again, waiting for me to pull away. But I do not know what would happen if I pulled away. Would he still talk to me about it, or would he become angry, or would he not even let me pull away… I am not sure, but I need to talk to him. I would not have driven all the way out here if I did not need something, but what was it… sex, or a conversation, or… suddenly he shifts and now his hand on the top of my thigh, ready to slide in between my legs. Why is he waiting? What am I supposed to do? We have not spoken a word to each other yet… this silent drama is unfolding so slowly… there is still time to run, but I am paralyzed now. I needed to talk about something… it was a problem I had with… what was it? I am trying to hold on to reality but I can feel it starting to slip. Now the clock is ticking so loud and so slowly. And that smell is so strong, but what is it? I hear Robert breath and it snatches me back so suddenly I almost flinch. But now it is best not to move at all. If I sit perfectly still then I am neither inviting this nor rejecting it. But I can feel that Robert has moved his hand again and now it must be so uncomfortable for him. Why is he making himself uncomfortable? I think if I move then he will just give up… I should shift my leg away and see, but I must sit still. How long will he hold that uncomfortable posture anyway?

The clock is still ticking and I can hear a bird outside… I had almost forgotten about outside. I think it was sunny, but now it seems so far away. I strain to hear the bird while Robert tugs at my pants button. He cannot seem to manage it. Tension is thick now, so I have to shift a little to help him. But just enough and now I sit still again. I can feel him touching me and with the erection comes a surge of desire. Suddenly I take my pants off and offer myself. Time flies… minutes? Hours? They are a blur. Robert does not even seem to care about himself now… he is only doing what I want… what I want? No… but yes, or I am not sure anymore. It does feel good and so naughty too. Oh yeah, because I am a bad little boy now! I can feel an orgasm coming. Yes… because that feels good… or is it because the sex is over after that? I am not sure because it is coming so fast… and the clock. I can hear it again, but not the bird… oh, oh... no, or yes, but it is too late. There is semen on my bare chest. It was warm for a second, but now it is already cold and sticky and so, so gross. I am sitting here in my own nasty mess. I know the next part… get to take a shower.

I am standing here in the hot water. But I cannot get it off me… the smell or the texture… or is it the memory I am trying to wash off. I am scrubbing and scrubbing, but now I feel like time is running out and I better get out of the shower. I don’t know why. I just do… he might think something is odd if I stay in here too long. And now I am so tired.

The sun is barely over the horizon now… how long was I here? The night is cool, but it feels damp and clammy… what happened to the warm day… I am not sure, but I did have a problem… something had made me sad… oh! My girlfriend and I were fighting. Was she my girlfriend? Because our relationship was not as close as all the other couples I saw around. Something was missing… or was there that should not be. But now I think I know… I bet I am gay although that does not make any sense to me. But how can I explain this. I have the window of my car down now even though it is too cold and the wind is making tears in my eyes.

Someone wants to know where I have been all afternoon. I can’t bring myself to look at them, but they don’t notice that. I tell them something, I am not even sure what it was… a drive through the country maybe? Or I was at the beach? I was doing something fun, yeah, that was it! But it doesn’t matter because I am alone. Who was I just talking to I wonder? But it doesn’t matter, because tomorrow will be here soon and this is always gone by morning.

"Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself." -Mary Schmich

#30853 - 03/05/04 03:04 AM Re: Remembering the emotional experience of abuse
Bill_1965 Offline
Chat Mod Emeritus

Registered: 06/29/03
Posts: 1984
Loc: Flint, Michigan

Thanks for sharing that. It does feel better to let it out.

Take care,

Pain is Temporary; Quitting lasts Forever. - Lance Armstrong

#30854 - 03/05/04 02:16 PM Re: Remembering the emotional experience of abuse
coolcat Offline

Registered: 02/23/04
Posts: 109
Loc: Winnipeg MB Canada
You are a brave person. Take care of yourself.

Take it easy, Don't that the sounds of your own wheels drive you crazy....

#30855 - 03/05/04 04:49 PM Re: Remembering the emotional experience of abuse
Mike Church Offline
Moderator Emeritus
Registered: 01/23/03
Posts: 3439
Loc: Toronto, Canada
Wrangler I can hear your pain.

But in the telling comes the relief , like lancing a boil. It is not something that is eating fyou from the inside. You have shared it with us. And that in itself is a tremendous act of courage on your part.

We can all relate to it. It was our fault, we must have wanted it because we got aroused from int and we kept going back. Wrangler that is what every perp wants us to believe. Why? Cause we keep quiet and protect them by doing it.

Welcome to a bit of sunshine Wrangler



#30856 - 03/05/04 05:27 PM Re: Remembering the emotional experience of abuse
markgreyblue Offline

Registered: 12/19/03
Posts: 5400
Loc: Pasadena, CA
wrangler - you are very strong for telling your story - in a way that details your emotions and thoughts during your crushing experience -
you must have despaired and yet now you are
brave enough to tell it - like it was for you-

and you are telling our story -
i am glad you released it from your memory and are getting it out -- i so recognize the confusion and pain -
you are not alone wrangler - we are here for you -


" not look outside yourself for the leader."
-wisdom of the hopi elders

"...the sign of a true leader is service..." - anonymous

#30857 - 03/07/04 06:18 AM Re: Remembering the emotional experience of abuse
Leosha Offline

Registered: 06/18/03
Posts: 3614
Loc: Right here

I was not able to read all that you wrote. But I did wish to say that it was very brave, that you were able to write it and put it here. I hope that it has helped you greatly to get it out of you. Continued good luck to you.


Avatar photo in memory of my younger brother Makar.

"Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted."~~~Martin Luther King Jr., 1963

#30858 - 03/07/04 08:59 PM Re: Remembering the emotional experience of abuse
wrangler Offline

Registered: 09/06/03
Posts: 84
Loc: Northern Virginia
Thanks guys, for your words of encouragement. This is a difficult thing to do and it makes me very sad. But it is obvious not that ignoring the feelings doesn’t make them any less real or vivid… just harder to get at. Leosha, I completely understand about not being able to read this. It is hard even for me to read it, and I wrote it. I want to tell you, and everyone else here, something that has made this very special for me. The abuse I suffered at the hands of Robert has (sadly) become a significant part of sexual fantasy for me. In the past I have tried to write about it and only wound up arousing myself, which in that situation is never a good thing.

But what I have written here is, for me, not arousing at all. This is the stuff I hide from, and never a glimpse of it is part of any fantasy. Writing it, and later reading it, makes me sad, several times to the point of crying (which I know is a good thing). I am trying to say that my memories seem to have split down the line of what was arousing (for God knows why) and what was real. This writing is about what was real, and even starting to reconnect with that is already starting to change everything I have thought about myself and about the abuse.

After years of only thinking only about the stuff that had somehow found it’s way into fantasy I had become very confused about how much I wanted it, how much I contributed to it, and so on. But I can read the stuff above and see in an instant how much I did not what it, and how lonely, sad, and confused I really was. This is not to imply that the nightmare is over for me. Nothing ever happens very quickly for me. But I can feel the first gray of dawn, and about that I am very excited and happy.

Thanks again guys for you support. I know this whole issue really goes to the core of our misery and it is not an easy thing to think about.

"Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself." -Mary Schmich

#30859 - 03/07/04 10:52 PM Re: Remembering the emotional experience of abuse
Lloydy Offline
Administrator Emeritus
Registered: 04/17/02
Posts: 7071
Loc: England Shropshire
I can't begin to count how many times I used what happened to me as a fantasy.
And it drove me nuts, not in a 'sexual' way particularly - although that did work I have to say. But it drove me nuts because I somehow knew it wasn't right to be remembering what happened as a boy when making love to my wife, or masturbating.

The abuse I suffered at the hands of Robert has (sadly) become a significant part of sexual fantasy for me. In the past I have tried to write about it and only wound up arousing myself, which in that situation is never a good thing.

But what I have written here is, for me, not arousing at all. This is the stuff I hide from, and never a glimpse of it is part of any fantasy.
But I think that you've found the answer to destroying that 'fantasy' by sharing it with us, and maybe in therapy as well.
A fantasy is what goes on in our minds, and once it's public knowledge then it's no longer such a strong fantasy. We seem to throw a part of it away every time we repeat it, either vocally or by writing about it.

I know that my old fantasies just don't work anymor, either the ones I used about the abuse OR the ones I developed from them about sex with other men, although the latter have been harder to get rid of.

Fantasising about the abuse as a boy was also largely killed off by doing what you're doing - attaching any scrap of emotion we felt at the time to it.
The sex did feel good, but young boys and men can feel horny riding a bicycle along a dirt track !
It would have been impossible for us not to have been aroused, and then participate, in the sex.
But if we think back and can remember how we FELT at the time then I would say that we almost always felt guilty and ashamed about what "we did"
We knew at the time it wasn't right, it was a lack of power to stop it that allowed it to happen and continue, not just the pleasure ( the normal uncontrollable physical pleasure ) we felt.

Attach those feelings of guilt and shame( and it probably only works with genuine feelings ? ) to the fantasy and we have a conflict - pleasure v torment. And the last thing we need in a good fantasy is torment.

I found that developing a new fantasy was also helpful as I weakened the old ones, and if I used porn or something to fuel a more 'normal' fantasy then so be it.
My new fantasy works, and I'm keeping it a secret.


Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler.
Henry David Thoreau


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