So, I am a new member of MS. Where do I begin with my story?, I do not know. I guess I will start now. After several years of being married, my wife finally said enough is enough- she was out of here. There were too many unanswered questions that she had that I wasn't able or willing to answer. She was referring to my dissociation, emotionally not being there, avoiding intimacy, etc. At that time, she knew that I did not have the best childhood, but she wasn't aware of the extent of everything.

Its a long story how the truth came out after 40 years(no one knew about the sexual abuse until now), but my wife now knows Through the years, our marital issues really didn't have anything to do with her; it was me that had boxed up the abuse and put it way back in my mind. I feel bad about this, as this caused my wife emotional strain, eating disorders (thinking if she looked a certain way, I would pay more attention to her), and lonliness. I guess not only did I not do the right things as a child, I was really screwed up as an adult.

For me, it was my father. He was a raging alcoholic. I was sexually, mentally, and physically abused from as far back as I can remember (probably around 7 years old). I would look out for his car each day when he came home from work so that I could run to one of my hiding place to get away from him. I had a hiding place under the house, in the closet, under my bed. Every night he would get drunk, grab me, wrestle me to the ground, and begin his abuse. I would cry, "please, please, stop!". For the times I would get away, I would run to my mother, who was busy crocheting, but no one heard my cries for help. I was called a "Sissy" by my father for the times I was able to get away from him. All I remember was a drunken man on top of me...and that smell of alcohol was disgusting.

I considered myself a good Catholic boy. I did well at school - my books were my escape from my father. I thought that if I had my head in my books, then he would leave me alone. I went to the school at my parish and did very well, but never told the nuns anything. All I wanted to do was be good- maybe all the bad would go away. At that point, I thought that the only way to get my father attention was to become sexual.

Later in my teens, I was raped by a man at a party. The man was in his 40s, clearly 20-30 years older than me. I am not sure how this happened, but I suspect it had to do with my past. I was locked up in a room, the man was doing drugs and I was told not to move or I would regret it.

I hold a very good, high level position at a company. I have to say, however, that everyday I go to work, I have to put on an act. I find it very difficult to carry on a conversation with another man (I have never had solid male relationships or friends- only female or gay friends). I find myself escaping from situations where I would be alone with another man. I feel like running as fast as I can from another man, thinking all they want to do is rape me. I find it difficult to look another man in the eyes. When I am around other men, I feel like a 7 year old boy stuck in a man's body. I can't seem to get past this little boy inside me.

I hate myself. I have eating disorders (starving myself or overeating), feeling like I am going to die in a horrific car accident, etc. I have trust issues, OCD, etc.

In terms of my relationship with my wife, I always wondered why I avoided didn't dawn on me it was due to the abuse. In addition, I never realized that my need to clean myself over and over after sex was due to my abuse.

I have a boy in kindergarten and twin girls that just turned 3 years old. I am overprotective of my children, just knowing the pain that I have gone through and the pain that I endure each and everyday of my life.

did not let me go and I was told that if I didn't do what he wanted me to do, then

After 40 years of running from my past and all the disfunction, it is time to face everything. My past has impacted many people along the way, including my wife who seriously considered divorce. She had no idea the extent of my abuse as a child. Now she knows, but the impact on her was determential because through the years she thought something was wrong with her.

For me, it was my father. As far back as I can remember, he was an alcoholic. I was severly abused, sexually, mentally, and phsically. I had several hiding places throughout the house (under the house, in my closet, under my bed) to escape this abuse. I remember watching out for his car when he would return from work each day, so that I would have enough time to escape to one of my hiding places, in hopes he would never find me. At the age of 7 or so, I remember him laying on top of my, wrestling me down and pulling down my pants and underwear. I remember the awful smell of alcohol and the fact that I couldn't get away from him. I would cry, "please, please, stop". In the event I would get away from him, I would run away from him, while he was calling me a sissy, to my mother who was in a rocking chair, crocheting. No one helped me, not even my mother. I remember hands inside my pants and underwear all the time.

In addition to the sexual abuse and when I didn't "perform" I was subject to the belt, which I received multiple whippings on the legs. I was so used to this that I became very good at jumping so high to miss the belt beatings on my legs. I can go on and on.

It was not until my teens that I was dealing with rescuing my father from jail, the same person that abused me.

My teens years found me desperately seeking the love and acceptance of any male fiqure. There must have been a sign on me that said, "please abuse me", because it was then that I was raped by a man at a party. The man must have been in his 40s, clearly 30 years older than me. I remember being locked in his room and being touched everywhere and raped.

I have dealt with anxiety, OCD,