Today's session was the best yet and I actually left with a sense of.... direction, I suppose.

We talked about finding my perp, the days-later lingering emotional effects of hearing his voice again (SPOILER ALERT: it was bad! Don't do it without proper prepping, or better yet, just don't!). She strongly recommended that the only follow-up I do, if any, is write a segmented letter (similar to what Mr. Singer described) but then *not* send it. He would never answer at his age, we don't know his family dynamics, it's too dangerous to include any contact info whatsoever.

More importantly I firmly reached a conclusion and she is ready to help me:

I have to tell my parents. I have to and I will. Very soon, because 2012 was my personal extinction year and I want to get all the bad shit over with and start fresh in 2013. It isn't like it used to be. It isn't just a disassociated visual memory that happened to someone else who was also me - it turned into real sensations and feelings, nightmarish, poured into me that I could not escape. It was real.

And I have to tell my mom and dad. I just have to.

Both my T and my wife have - independently - said that my voice changes when I discuss the abuse. It gets higher and I stutter. I am not aware of this to the degree that they claim it to be noticeable. T says the newfound urgency to tell is the 8-year-old finally allowed to do what he was trained to do - now that the abuse has become "real" and really happened to him instead of just looking like it did. This was the first time that she'd mentioned any of this "inner child" stuff that lots of other guys here go on about. It made me feel..... something. I don't know what it was. Some very powerful something.

I have to tell. Now that it's real. That's what you're supposed to do.

Our entire next session will be all about disclosure prep. Voice control for starters, I don't wanna totally squick them. What to say and what not - how to make sure it doesn't hurt them, without me going way overboard about acting like their pain is more important than mine. When I started talking about what I wanted to say I found myself interjecting the practice narrative with "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" like 40 times - sorry for hurting them, for making them sad, for making them feel like failed parents, for not telling like you're supposed to until it was much too late. She said again that's definitely the 8-year-old, who feels like a bad boy.... but really isn't.

Mind was rocked, ended up dizzy and weak, and now positively looking forward to telling. It will really drop a bomb on them but I just have to do it. I've been totally uncomfortable and closemouthed around my parents for the last month - because I don't know how to talk to them anymore, it's always right on the tip of my tongue and I'm afraid to even talk to them because it might just spill out. Can't go on like that - need to do a controlled release. Lastly, someday when the time is right I'll tell my own kids, in an age appropriate and non-terrifying way, and when I do that I can't very well say "but never ever tell Grandma and Grandpa I said this because it's still a secret!" - would kinda undercut the message!

Edited by SoccerStar (12/01/12 06:13 AM)
My story

"Don't think it hasn't been a little slice of Heaven just because it hasn't!" --Bugs Bunny