It was my problem I needed to get over.

            Nothing puts a damper in something then finding out that someone you know has been touched by the same abuser as you. While growing up, there were several of his fiends involved it becomes pure shock to find out children left in the care of my Mother were abused as well. It becomes a realization that in fact no one was safe and as long as it met his personal needs, there was no regards for anyone’s feelings or what it would do to their futures.

            Last night I spoke to a very close friend, although we don’t keep in contact faithfully, the relationship has always been like a younger brother to me and when ever we run into each other it’s as if we never loose contact. We became friends on the social network, Facebook and he happened to be on the chat so we started talking. With everything I have been through over the last ten months, I could not help but to ask him if my older brother had ever touched him, I had questioned it because he had grown up with the family since he was born and mother started to babysit him. I had my opinion it may have happened to him, just as I suspect it happened to other children that she babysat I never understood why I was so convinced it had.

            During the conversation, I gathered the muster to ask and although I had questioned, I was not really ready for the answer I was about to be given. All he said, and all that was needed to be said, was that the topic was a sore subject along with a frown face. My heart sank, because not only could I relate to how he feels, but what might happen if he does not deal with things or begin to speak to someone like his parents. It is good that he does see a doctor and is on medication for depression, but he admitted that he cannot and does not talk about it. He does what I have done most all my life, and that is to keep the silence where now I am breaking the silence and chains that has bound me to the past.

            It has stirred up a few of the emotions inside me and I feel sort of like when I ended up in the hospital the first time, confused and hurting. That empty pit, the lump in the throat has come back and basically it really stinks because I know there is more out there, so much my wife said I could start a whole support group with just his victims, and that she is right. I wish I could contact a few others I have in mind just to inquire because I am curious but maybe it is better that I don’t know. Like a hurricane leaves a path along the coast, his path goes from NJ, NY all the way down to Florida and back. We may never truly know how many were touched by him and he will never admit that he did anything wrong, like he told me “It was my problem, I needed to get over it”