Sunday, September 8, 2013

A beautiful Sunday

It is a wonderful Sunday with the exception I will be loosing a freind well not loosing he is taking a job in another state which is better for him and his family. Over the past couple of years I have come to love him and will miss him. I told the boys I am planning on having a guys camp out in the back yard to introduce the grandsons to camping and how much fun it will be. I am looking forward to that and plan on doing it when it is a little cooler. Well thats what is happening this weekend. Laters yall

Sunday, September 1, 2013

The Beginning of My Abuse , This has Triggers in it so be aware

My Mom leaves my dad they hada Love Hate abusive marriage and I am sure the abuse came from both sides. My Mom and I moved around a lot because she was a waitress and was always looking for better work and we ended up living with my grandparents in Pennsylvania. When we moved in they died shortly after and I was 5 years old. I was then placed under the care of the women down the street while my mom was at work. This women would become one of my abusers her and her much older brother would give me wine and cookies and teach me Italian which I became fluent at. Eventually she started playing games with me like dress up and soon I would be dressed as a girl all of the time and drunk on wine. I know all of this from working with my therapist for the past 2 years. The actually abuse I do not really remember much of, I remember a bad taste in my mouth and later as time passed, I remember pain lots a lots of searing pain. I remember sitting on the stoop watching little girls walk by and him making comments about them saying we are going to get there little asses.
Then one day I remember coming home and my mom telling me if I ever go near Mr. Man who stole my childhood again she will scratch his eyes out. Next thing I know I am living with other people. 

I come home and things seem to be the same except Mr. Man who stole my childhood no longer lives in the house and a family with a boy my age and a girl 1 year younger. 
The area I grew up was only 2 streets of only about 20 houses and everyone new everything about everyone else. The boys in the neighborhood sure new about me and would beat on me and call me nasty names. It ended up the only way it stopped is if I gave them sex. Then they would beat me less.
My mom was a waitress and then got a job in a machine shop and had to work long hours. I guess after The Man who stole my childhood thing she decided I was better off watching myself and so I would come home and let myself in and stay there till she came home. Those where long hours sometimes and I would sit at the window crying wondering when she would come home. 
My mom new as most moms know how best to inflict the most amount of damage with as little effort as possible and she would use this to keep me in line. 
When I was bad she would a: beat the hell out of me with whatever she can get her hands on. Or b: go silent which was the worst I would rather have the beatings the silence was deifying and last for hours if not days..

Next Step

Well My Insurance Company decided I was well enough to stop going to group glad they had a handle on that and not my case consular. So I went to see my therapist and she asked me what it is I learned in group during the time I spent going and I told her, What not to say to doctors and therapists. She questioned me a little deeper and I just said well the time I spent in hospital and then in group really did nothing except take away the urge to do harm. Guess that is what it was supposed to be about but it did nothing for what I was feeling. I still feel everything that got me in there in the first place except the want. I feel frustrated and tried and confused and I do not want to take these damn meds I do not want to have to go to therapy or Doctors all the time. I hate what happened to me and how it makes me feel like I have to live 2 separate lives now. The normal person and the damaged one who is used and hides and is scared all the time. I feel sorry for my wife because I am not the man she married heck I am not even sure I am a man sometimes I am a little boy or a little girl all dressed up. This sucks. On the good point I guess I found a group for ASCA and I will be going for the first time on Tuesday. Let’s see if that does any good, sorry for the rant I needed to get it out. And by the way thank all of you for listening to an old man.