I've been a member here for a long time. I don't post often but I read and find relief. This time I need to purge a bit.

Since age 11.5 (the summer of 1963) I've been detached from things: family, friends and love. I was abducted and raped many times over a three day period. The local sheriff deputies saved me from more but the damage was done. I spent several weeks in the hospital and four decades in suffering. My family was of no help at all. They didn't speak about it. It was as if it never happened. I suffered in silence. My mother said it was an asthma attack as I'd had problems with that before and been hospitalized for it.

I moved here several years ago to be near them but recently they decided to shun me and my son because he did something stupid; used his grandmother's credit card without her consent. She never said a word to me. She called the police and had him arrested. He's my son and I got angry at her. She could have said something to me. I would have paid her the money (she got a refund from the credit care company anyway so she wasn't even out the $135).

This incident brought back all those memories of my own suffering. It wasn't just the rape, it was her total lack of compassion that made it worse and now my son was coming under the same disgusting, hateful, dispassionate disregard that she showed me in the weeks and months of my suffering. Her attitude at the time was "let's not say anything". She didn't want to be embarrassed in front of her Bridge Club friends. Not once did she comfort me. Even when I was in the hospital, she barely came to visit; maybe three times in a week at the most but often once a week. Jesus Christ! I was still a child! I was often left to wonder if anyone even remembered me anymore. The only time she showed some compassion was when I soiled my underpants with blood and she brought me a clean pair and threw out the old ones. She had to do that a few times.

Now I feel guilty for bringing my son back into her sphere of influence. I wish I hadn't done that. I had forgiven her and thought I'd gotten past that. But now she's turned my siblings against me. She told them to have nothing to do with me. I found that out from a nephew. My youngest brother who was often my relief during those months after the rape, won't talk to me. He was an infant at the time and taking care of him was my solace. My sister with a PhD in Theology is trapped in her mother's clutches. She claims to resent her but she's just like her. My closest sibling, my slightly younger brother, just stopped coming by to visit. We can't sit on the porch and talk about the good days of our childhood anymore.

As bad as it is, it's brought my son and I closer together. Our relationship is better because of this; we're much more direct and honest with each other. But, rather than use this as an example of how a family operates to resolve a family issue, he's seen the dark side of how a family deals with issues; a dysfunctional manner. He doesn't know about my history. It's not something I share with anyone. I really don't like to go there. So, I come here. Like when we played tag as kids, this is "home base".

I'm not sure where I'm going with this. I don't have a point except to just "vent". I can't talk about my son's experience in the context of my own except for here where I feel like people will understand it. It's lonely. My siblings don't know the whole story. They wondered why I always kept an arm's length from my mother and spent a lot of time in both geographic and emotional distance from them. But, now I know why. It was self-preservation!

But then I wonder if it's me and my fault; that I'm the bad guy in all this. And, all those negative feelings come flooding back again. I'm that child again trying to deal with all those feelings and depression and "aloneness" and I really hate it.

So thanks for reading and letting me vent. This isn't something I can share anywhere but here... where you understand what I'm going through and why. My nephew said to me, "You don't have a family anymore". That may be right about my "blood" family but not about the family I've found outside that definition. One day, I'll tell my son perhaps but at least I can come here and "vent". Thanks.
A life worth living.