What happened?
I am sure that you are asking yourself what happened that I say I have to recover from all this abuse I speak of. Just what kind of abuse went on that after all this time my mind has gone thru a breakdown and I am on disability?
Well, as you might have read in my "Nite Writing" post it started what I can remember at the age of about 7 years old. My brother forced my sister and I to have intercourse one day, and then later told on us. My mother beat my sister and I for doing the act and then for lying to her because we denied the whole act because we did not know what sex was. From there it went on, growing from him just fondling me to having sex with the dog as he watched. Everything you could think of happened in between, and this lasted until I was 15 years old when he raped me and beat me really bad while making my sister watch. During most of these sessions he would bring other male friends into our home to participate in these acts. My sister was also abused and was also part of these acts. One of my most vivid images was my sister on the kitchen floor while all his friends had their way with her. She was only 9 years old at the time. It is most vivid to me because I tried to stop what was going on and again I was beaten. Knowing that he beat me and often told me he would kill me if we ever told anyone, he was free to do what he wanted and when. We lived in fear for most if not all our childhood years.
There was another person who abused me on one occasion and this was a school yard teacher in 5th grade. I was friends with her daughter and was over one day when she somehow got me into her bedroom with the door closed. She fondled me and told me how she heard I was a great kisser and proceeded to kiss me. I have no memory of how I was able to get out of the room but my last memory was riding my bike home as fast as I could. Again, I don't know if it was the fear placed in me by my brother or something else but I never told a soul about this for many years.
The other person who abused me was a youth minister from a church in Connecticut we had met at a conference in Ohio. We exchanged phone numbers and he came to New York to visit and stayed at a campground near by. I have no idea how he knew I was abused but he got me talking about it, he then proceeded to touch be both on and under my pants telling me it was normal, not to be ashamed and that I should not let it bother me. Again, I have no idea how I got home or how he left as that is the last memory I have of that situation.
I always argued with my sister saying that my parents knew nothing about what was going on which she claimed they did. It was after my procedure in February and all my flashbacks came out that I realized that my mother did know. I do remember going to confession and having to tell the priest that we played nasty, and of course he would ask what I meant and I would have to tell him. The other memory I have is that I told her he forced me to give him oral sex and her reply was next time bite it off. When my brother was 19 and still living at home, he would sneak younger boys into his room at night. My grandmother found pictures hidden of these boys naked on his bed and gave them to my mother. She would only tell him that one day he was going to get caught.
Now my mother thru all this was very abusive and my parents fought a lot over things I don't even know. My father I know had an affair and mom knew it but did nothing about it. Dad was also an alcoholic and when he was not working he was always drinking getting drunk. He would become very violent when he was drunk using fists, belts, 2x4's and other things in his reach to beat us. I still remember how mother would hide behind the couch crying as he came looking for her. One night as I laid in my bedroom, the only one on the second floor my mother came up and went into the bathroom crying and screaming. I went to see if she was okay and that is when I saw her start to cut her wrist. My father even tried it once using a shotgun but that jammed and never went off. We took some very bad beatings from him and my mother, once beating me with a wooden spoon which back then was 1/4 inch or bigger in diameter. I don't remember the whole beating but I remember I could not cry anymore as she beat me until the spoon broke. My father would often disapline us by stabbing our hands with his fork at the dinner table if we were bad. My mother was the one who held my hand just above the stove burner untill I told her something. There was alot of things like this that happened that even today I am getting flashbacks or learning from my medical records that bring back memories of things I do not recall or was told different stories about the scars or bone breaks.
Right up until my mother passed away she used her suicide attempt over me to get her way. When we spoke or we saw each other she would always have negative things to say about me. I grew up with her telling me what to wear, where I could go, who I could be friends with and once even picked me up at 9pm from Pizza Hut while out with friends because it was my bed time, at 16 or 17. There is so many things that happend that I can't go into them all in one blog post. What I am going to do is mostly post about my days as I have said. Some of these posts I will probably tell more as each day is a new or renewed flashback for me. Today was physical flashbacks of pain in my head, not anything like a headache but sharp pains in certain spots on each side of my head. These would always bring back the image of one beating or another, which mostly I just take a nap and sleep it away but today I helped my son clean out the garage which helped alittle with getting things off my mind.
Well, that is my post for today. I just wanted to start with a bit of explination of my background. This week I have an appointment with Social Security Phyciatrist and my counselor so it is not going to be a busy week for me, thank God. Till next time....
Well, as you might have read in my "Nite Writing" post it started what I can remember at the age of about 7 years old. My brother forced my sister and I to have intercourse one day, and then later told on us. My mother beat my sister and I for doing the act and then for lying to her because we denied the whole act because we did not know what sex was. From there it went on, growing from him just fondling me to having sex with the dog as he watched. Everything you could think of happened in between, and this lasted until I was 15 years old when he raped me and beat me really bad while making my sister watch. During most of these sessions he would bring other male friends into our home to participate in these acts. My sister was also abused and was also part of these acts. One of my most vivid images was my sister on the kitchen floor while all his friends had their way with her. She was only 9 years old at the time. It is most vivid to me because I tried to stop what was going on and again I was beaten. Knowing that he beat me and often told me he would kill me if we ever told anyone, he was free to do what he wanted and when. We lived in fear for most if not all our childhood years.
There was another person who abused me on one occasion and this was a school yard teacher in 5th grade. I was friends with her daughter and was over one day when she somehow got me into her bedroom with the door closed. She fondled me and told me how she heard I was a great kisser and proceeded to kiss me. I have no memory of how I was able to get out of the room but my last memory was riding my bike home as fast as I could. Again, I don't know if it was the fear placed in me by my brother or something else but I never told a soul about this for many years.
The other person who abused me was a youth minister from a church in Connecticut we had met at a conference in Ohio. We exchanged phone numbers and he came to New York to visit and stayed at a campground near by. I have no idea how he knew I was abused but he got me talking about it, he then proceeded to touch be both on and under my pants telling me it was normal, not to be ashamed and that I should not let it bother me. Again, I have no idea how I got home or how he left as that is the last memory I have of that situation.
I always argued with my sister saying that my parents knew nothing about what was going on which she claimed they did. It was after my procedure in February and all my flashbacks came out that I realized that my mother did know. I do remember going to confession and having to tell the priest that we played nasty, and of course he would ask what I meant and I would have to tell him. The other memory I have is that I told her he forced me to give him oral sex and her reply was next time bite it off. When my brother was 19 and still living at home, he would sneak younger boys into his room at night. My grandmother found pictures hidden of these boys naked on his bed and gave them to my mother. She would only tell him that one day he was going to get caught.
Now my mother thru all this was very abusive and my parents fought a lot over things I don't even know. My father I know had an affair and mom knew it but did nothing about it. Dad was also an alcoholic and when he was not working he was always drinking getting drunk. He would become very violent when he was drunk using fists, belts, 2x4's and other things in his reach to beat us. I still remember how mother would hide behind the couch crying as he came looking for her. One night as I laid in my bedroom, the only one on the second floor my mother came up and went into the bathroom crying and screaming. I went to see if she was okay and that is when I saw her start to cut her wrist. My father even tried it once using a shotgun but that jammed and never went off. We took some very bad beatings from him and my mother, once beating me with a wooden spoon which back then was 1/4 inch or bigger in diameter. I don't remember the whole beating but I remember I could not cry anymore as she beat me until the spoon broke. My father would often disapline us by stabbing our hands with his fork at the dinner table if we were bad. My mother was the one who held my hand just above the stove burner untill I told her something. There was alot of things like this that happened that even today I am getting flashbacks or learning from my medical records that bring back memories of things I do not recall or was told different stories about the scars or bone breaks.
Right up until my mother passed away she used her suicide attempt over me to get her way. When we spoke or we saw each other she would always have negative things to say about me. I grew up with her telling me what to wear, where I could go, who I could be friends with and once even picked me up at 9pm from Pizza Hut while out with friends because it was my bed time, at 16 or 17. There is so many things that happend that I can't go into them all in one blog post. What I am going to do is mostly post about my days as I have said. Some of these posts I will probably tell more as each day is a new or renewed flashback for me. Today was physical flashbacks of pain in my head, not anything like a headache but sharp pains in certain spots on each side of my head. These would always bring back the image of one beating or another, which mostly I just take a nap and sleep it away but today I helped my son clean out the garage which helped alittle with getting things off my mind.
Well, that is my post for today. I just wanted to start with a bit of explination of my background. This week I have an appointment with Social Security Phyciatrist and my counselor so it is not going to be a busy week for me, thank God. Till next time....
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