Having said that, a very very common assumption is that God is unavailable because the boy is bad or dirty or somehow unworthy. The outlook of the boy is that he is at fault and caused the abuse himself and further that religeon won't save him or benefit him because he is/was flawed.
To survive abuse is to join the fraternity of the ISOLATED children, the NEGLECTED boys who were ABANDONED and IGNORED by all those living and yes, even GOD (though the assumption may be inccorect).
That entire post above is dead-on to my understanding and belief of the dynamic that builds and controls the sexually abused child. It just took a guy who can articulate a complex idea into a clear picture. Well done.
When I packed my bag for issolationville (imposed and/or chosen) at age-8, I took with me: My favorite stuffed animals, hoping they would re-emerge as real friends to me. My thumb, because sucking it still served to comfort me. My forest, as it was a world built not by humans, but by God and only God, and I was safe there. And I packed God into my bag, as I somehow knew that he had not left me, did not like what was happening to me, and when it all killed me, maybe he's take me home. But I'm so
glad I packed-up God as i had NO ONE else to talk to about even the tiniest detail of my heart, body, mind, fears and tears. I had no one to cry with
...no one to cry to
Time went on. My choices for the survival-bag were tested.
The animals never woke-up again.
Sucking my thumb only got me humiliated and chastised by the dentist, parents, relatives, sisters, friends...It seems it was a major societal sin, a character-flaw, baby-ish, "queer," and a fully valid reason to hurl rocks at me.
My God-built forest proved to be true. That is, the forest was not a lie to the boy. It remained a kind, loving sanctuary with beauty and comfort. It will always be a sacred and genuinely magical sanctuary. If God has built a cathedral, it is the forest. I hope that I'm there when i die, and not some horrific hospital.
God proved to be so much more than what I believed when I took him along with me. To explain all he was and is and will forever be...dang....I'd have to write a book.