What is wrong with me?

       Today was a hard day to get through, it was a mixture of depression, mixed thoughts and a day of remembering. The depression is really deep tonight as I write this blog and I am honest I don't know where it is going to go, or if one of my alters will come out to add to the writing.

       Today was the Oprah show where she had 200 men come and stand up to say they were Sexually Abused. Some of these very men I have talked to on a web page chat called Male Survivor. Sitting here watching the show play on and listened to what these men were talking about was pulling strings at the very pit of my soul. Most things said I could relate to, and their stories had me glued to the television while at the same time thinking about things that happened in my own life. The story where the guy told his mother and she brushed it off, and years they were still married. My sister and I went to our mother and were met with the very same reaction. I am not sure what she said to my sister, but I was told to next time bite it off. Give me one good reason why a little boy or girl would go back to the same person who is our protector and tell. This is the same woman who really had beaten us in the past. I still would give anything to find out how I broke my right hand at the age of 12. I have absolutely any recall of hurting my hand at all. I do remember my hand being held over the top of the stove as the burner was glowing bright orange begging them not to burn me. But not a single thing about my hand.

       One of the questions that Oprah asked one of the men on the show was how did the perpetrator groom him so that he could have his way with him. I sat there for a little while thinking about this question, and you know I have no idea how my brother did it. Did he just walk up to my sister and me and say I want you to do something? I mean was there something going on before that between him and me or him and her to make us both comfortable to give into his demands. Did this abuse go on prior to the memory I have at age 8? This is the first memory I have of sexual abuse of any kind. So I do ask, just how did he start it and how did her get the two of us to engage in this. One thing I even remember, is we used to breed dogs and I can remember being afraid that we would get stuck just as dogs do so I must have has some idea of something but I did not know it was called sex. That's how we got beat when he told on us, that's how he was guaranteed we would not tell on him. But now my mind is starting to turn a little bit, how DID I know what we were doing was what the dogs did? And if that is so the case how did he get us to do that?

       I do know that he always told me it was okay because everyone did it and I was no different then anyone. That is what I remember after the incident with my sister, the touching, the oral and then eventually sodomy. I used to remember the rape that took place when I was 15, how I begged him not to and then begged him not to climax. I remember sitting in the bathroom crying as I found out he did along with the blood I found in the toilet. But I do remember that it happened several times before, twice I know was at a neighbor’s house where he babysat their son. I would have to go over as he watched adult films and then having to do what he just watched. Many years of this went on, many years my mother knew and many years could have been different if it was only stopped and not allowed to go on.

       Why did my parents treat me the way they did, how was it that other people knew they could abuse me. Again, I mention the teacher who used the comment she heard I was a good kisser after she got me into her bedroom. The minister, I do not even know how we ended up in the parking lot with his hand down my pants and my zipper down and unsnapped. How was it that so many people could be brought into the sessions, having their way with my sister or me? Why could I not walk away when I got older and accepted all the mental abuse for years after? Up till then I had been beaten by my Brother, Mother and Father. Sexually abused by Brother, Teacher, Minister, 2 boys who were my brothers friends who lived next door, Kenny the black friend of my brother and one other I do not remember his name but I can remember his face. How was he able to get my best friend to get involved, who I lost as a friend after that? Was I born to be abused? Was I born to be a Boy Toy or punching bag to those who needed to take their anger out on someone?

       And in the end, when my brother was arrested it was I who was blamed. I was disowned by my parents, by a vast majority of my family. My father never spoke to me for 3 years after the arrest and passed away never saying a word to me. My mother passes away begging me to take care of my brother’s daughter who was the one who got everything in the will. Leave it all to her and have me take care of her, she has not spoken to me in at least 6 months. And to have my brother send me letters begging for money in prison, as if he thinks I would send him a penny or even reply to his letters. I have no family left but my sister, we talk once and a while. My Fathers family doesn’t live anyplace near Syracuse and I have just started to talk to a cousin who I have not seen or heard from since my Grandfather passed away almost 22 years ago. Maybe he could see my parents for what they were, who knows.

       I still carry shame in the fact I have not been to see any of my parents graves, everything that happened in my life and the guilt to sometimes admit what happened. I know or more so I am learning it was not my fault but it is something that I deal with internally. The depression becomes so deep that I can't always stand it anymore and to try and think of something good only makes it worse because it really is not that easy. I just don't know what to feel anymore. I just don't know what is wrong with me. Till Next Time.....

So why is it so hard to deal with now?

       I am 44 years old working and dealing with my past that goes back as far as 37 years ago. So why is it so hard to deal with it, hard to accept and worst off, live with it now? I have known all my life that there was something different about me, I knew there was abuse that had happened and until now it never bothered me. So why now, what makes today any different then yesterday? This is a question that has been asked of me and to be honest I have asked myself as well.

       Remembering and feeling the past are actually two different things within the same mind. One is a memory that does not really stay in the front of your mind. It comes and goes as fast as remembering your childhood phone number when you see a set of numbers that are very close to what your number was. Feeling the past puts a whole new spin on viewing the past, remembering that past and reliving what you went through. We know that the mind creates a special place where these memories are stored, where alters live and have mingled with these memories for many years. It is not until the wall that divides the mind that we use today to think and remember the little things is broken down which allows the memories of the past and the alters that live behind this wall are now free to mingle with the mind we have today. It is then that we begin to remember more in detail of the abuse, the sights and sounds that went along with it. This is the moment that we begin to deal with and start to heal from our past.

       What is true, is that memories start to flow once that wall is broken down. But what happens when behind that wall are so many hidden memories that the wall does not fall but rather crashes down like the floodgates opening allowing everything behind it to pour out and give the impression of reality. What happens to the good part of the mind when floods of memories, flashbacks, nightmares and fears spill out into the fresh mind that we use to think and remember the little things in life? What happens is a meltdown, a breakdown, a rush of emotions that are so confusing that even our own mind cannot decipher what is right from wrong, past from present, safe from harm or even adult from child. Another thing that happens is the Inner Child that lived behind the wall mingled in with all these memories comes out and is actually able to speak to us or to others. In some cases they are able to act out through our own external emotions or feelings that others are able to see. Any other person who is not aware that a person is living with Disassociation Disorder might look at it as someone who does not know when the right time to play around is or even yet will think that this person is immature.

       When a person who has been abused starts out on a road to recovery from the past, that person learns to deal with new and old emotions that they have learned to bury away for years. However a person with Disassociation Disorder has a whole different path to walk. Even though the two paths are exactly the same because both paths will deal with the flashbacks, the depression, reliving the past all over again or dealing with the shame and blame that goes along with it. The person with DID has more then one personality and has to learn to walk the path together at the same time. Like myself, I have Keith who is 8, Robert who is 11 and myself who is 44 the views and feelings are very much different. Keith for example finds it very easy to cry and show emotion, Robert is angry and very bitter and I who cannot cry, is very confused, has many questions and plain does not fully understand. For us we need to all get on the same page, we need to be able to trust each other and walk this path as one and not as 3 personalities with different goals. Problem is, I have not yet fully embraced the fact that I am DID and have not yet learned to fully communicate with my alters. This is a hinder to my own recovery and slows the speed as I walk on my own path.

       Once I am able to learn a little more about who I am and how these alters fit into my life and recovery is when I will fully be able to truly start to recover. I know it is going to be a long hard road and there are going to be bumps along the way and I am going to have to face these when they come but I cannot let them bring me down or regress from where I am up to this point. There are so many other things that come along with this healing process such as the depression, the weakness, the agoraphobia and remembering to take meds when they are due that really get in the way of everything I spoke about. But is with the understanding of family and friends who help you through these dark moments to make it through to another day.

       When my wall came crushing down, the only way I could describe it was that I knew what I was going through and what was right from wrong, but my body felt and reacted a whole different way. It was as if I had no control over what I did, how I felt and what I was doing. This is true also about my blogging, I know what I say is true yet to put it all into motion is still a very hard thing to do. Until Next Time.....

Say hello to my Little Friend...

       Say hello to my little friend, a phrase that was coined in a movie that has become very popular. So why do these six little words make me feel weird, different and somewhat scared? All my adult life I was told that I sometimes acted like a little kid, I must have an inner child that likes to take over my body and play games. I would laugh it off, sometimes even joking about it or even playing around a little more acting just as a child would. So what's the big deal right? Everyone has a little child inside of them when they want to get away from the stress and anxiety that go along with being an adult. That one moment where they can break free and just become someone they are not.

       So why do I bring this up or even mention it? What is the big deal about a person who likes to joke or play around a little? The real reason I bring this up is there are a couple Little Friends that can be discussed, your inner child and your Inner Child. I know, you just read that sentence over again and asked yourself, what is the difference between inner child and Inner Child except that the last one has capital letters? If you are someone who has been abused or suffer from some form of PTSD then you already know the difference. But why would someone have to be either of those to see the difference, are they not spelled the same or even used in the same context? The answer to this is actually no, and this is something that I learned during a couple hospital stays while going through my treatments after my breakdown back in February.

       During my first hospital visit one Physiatrist asked me some interesting questions. Have I ever felt like I lost time, forgot doing or saying something, maybe purchased something and when I got home did not remember putting it into my cart or little things like that. I thought nothing of it and answered honestly yes to some of his questions. His words back to me was something I had never heard before, It sounds like you have Disassociation Disorder. Okay, if you think so what ever that is and if that can help me get better then I will go along with that. It was not till my second hospital stay three months later that I would come face to face with those two words again, and this time I would be in such a state of shock it still after five months has me wondering what is really going on with me.

       During one of our sessions with my Physiatrist he often noticed that I would seem to drift off, or space out while we were talking. I would continue to talk but time stopped and I did not remember talking to him during the moments that time stopped. What he did next was about to change my life forever. He saw that I was starting to slip away and he said he was going to ask a question and just say the very first thing that comes to my mind no matter what it was, so I agreed what the heck. Then after a few minuets he asked, is there another person living inside of me, BAM first thought, yes. OK, my mind is playing games but I can go along with it. Then the questions continued for a little while and I played along thinking this is either a joke or my mind is playing games with me. But then he asked a question that would make my jaw drop, shock would set in, my mind would become very confused and I began to wonder what just happened. He asked if this little person had a safe place in my mind that he goes to; the answer I gave was something that I would have never given if you had paid me a million dollars. A place that I had forgotten about many years ago and never thought of again, the dugouts at the baseball field. Oh My God was my reaction as I snapped right out of out conversation, I used to go there to get away when I needed to be alone or to get away from some of the problems I was dealing with.

       What he said to me is that I have Disassociation Disorder, where my mind stops living at a certain time in my life and in my minds way of protecting myself stays at the age where something very traumatizing happened to me. For the next couple days all I did was walk around the hospital speaking the only word I could, WOW. I even went to my counselor session and spend a half hour staring at the wall repeating over and over the word, wondering if I had gone off the deep edge or not. After the initial shock wore off I had come to terms that I had an Inner Child inside me who could actually speak and now explained a lot of my past feelings where I could not explain them before. The next step was to try and find out who this child was, how old, or anything I could find out about him. It took me two days to actually sit down and try to communicate and sure enough I was getting replies and did not know where they were coming from.

       The Inner Child was eight years old, wait, I was only one month shy of becoming eight years old when my first sexual abuse assault took place. The next thing I found out was that he wanted to be called Keith, why Keith I have no idea but this made me realize that this Inner Child, or Alter as they are called, had a personality all its own. Was this really happening? Did I just meet my true inner child and has he been all this time trying to speak out through feelings I could not explain, bouts of depression that just come on for no reason and leave just as fast? After speaking to my Doctor, all those questions were answered with a simple Yes.

       It has been five months now since Keith has come into my life. He introduced me to a second alter who I call Robert. Robert is my trouble maker and when I am feeling like causing trouble it is often him who is behind this. How do I know this, I mean I now have an excuse to do things and on my medical records it says I have Disassociation Disorder. Well, they are both real and very much alive in my mind. They each have their own personality and at times they do make themselves known, in fact most of the time they talk to my wife because I am in what the Doctor called a self hypnotic state of mind where time stops for me and I do not recall the conversation at all. When I was around 13 years old when my Mother beat me with that wooden spoon, I lost all memory of the beating that went on for just a minute or two. What I do remember was the last strike on my thigh when this 1/4 inch in diameter spoon broke. I know I was not crying and this made mother more upset. This was the last time I cried until the rape at age 15, and even after that right up till today I have not been able to cry. Not when any of my parents passed away, no reason could make me shed a single tear. However, when Keith comes forward and talks to my wife I cry, I shed tears, and in some cases I cry so hard that I am afraid I am not going to stop even after I snapped back I continued to cry and this I actually became afraid.

       Living with Disassociation Disorder has been a learning experience for me and my family. It not only explains to them why I am the way I am but it makes it more clear to me why I do the things I do. It was very hard to accept for me in the beginning and has been a long process for my family to come to terms with it as well.  I never know when they will pop up, I know when they want to come out or are on their way out but to call them or expect them to be there at snack time, it just does not work that way for me. Until I get to knowing them more through time and learn how to really work together with them it is going to be a learning experience for everyone involved, My Alters, Family and I. In a way I look forward to getting to know them but on the other hand I am still afraid to know about them and what they know. But time will tell and as with any healing it's one day at a time, one step at a time. Till next time....

Mother, in the end I was always alone.

My Immortal-Evanescence

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

            The words of a song, meant to tell about the breakup of a man and a woman yet it is so amazing how these words touch me. I am so tired of the mental state I am in, because of fears that I can relate to all of my childhood fears. My mother passed away a year ago and yet I am so confused on if I should be sad or happy looking back at the way that my life was growing up.

            The one day that Mom and Dad got into that fight, Mom ran up the stairs, slamming the bathroom door. Did she not know I was in my bedroom? She should have because I always ran and hid when they fought. Dad was always drunk and his yelling was so loud. I remember things being thrown, the words, how Dad would grab you by the arms and shake you. If you knew I was there would you have grabbed that razor and start to slice your wrist. I can remember you crying, a cry that to this day when I hear a women cry shoots right into my heart and stomach. I remember being taken to a neighbor’s house not knowing if you were dead or alive. We had to spend the night there and I was so scared, no one would tell us anything. From that day forward I believed it was my job to be there for you. I always was there to wipe away your tears, and as life went on often settled your fears. I held your hand thru many family problems, and even when dad laid in bed taking his last breath I held your hand. Yet, you were not always there to do the same for me.

            And how did I get treated all those years? I became Paul’s “Boy Toy” to do as he pleased when you were not around.  When he told on us that first time, who did you discipline? The two young kids who knew nothing of what they were doing.  Did you not think that when we denied having sex that maybe we did not even know what that word meant? Why was the beating longer, because we lied to you? We told you we did not even know the word? We now feared you.

            Yet I always looked up to you, kept an eye open for you to make sure that you were safe. Then again, what can a very young child do against the man who was drunk and out with other women all the time? I sat with you as you cried on the bed, hugged you and held your hand. Yet when I told you about being forced to perform oral sex on Paul you never jumped up in anger, you never once called him on the floor about it, what you did do? You told me next time “bite it off”. Think about that, bite it off. To a child who looked up to you, who looked to you to be my protector? You basically gave him and all his friends the right to use my body for their pleasure, and this they did. From age of seven until the age of fifteen I was used for sexual pleasure, for laughs as they shot me with BB Guns, tossed darts at me, tossed glasses of urine at me, give me drinks that they had urinated in or just made fun of me all around. Don’t you remember I was the Egg and Paul was the Egg-Beater? You even laughed at that.

            Now I am bound right now by the past you all left for me to deal with. The beatings you gave, the things you took from me, the way you would used suicide to get your way, the mental abuse, and the physical abuse by you and Dad to the sexual abuse by Paul. I know you’re gone, but your face shows in my thoughts and dreams. Oh how I prayed for a sign that you really did love me after you died. Anything, a smell, a sign, or even a touch on my shoulder to let me know you cared in the end. I am left with the pain of my past that you all gave me, the pain that you allowed and more so the pain that in the end, looking back in my life I can actually question just how much you did love me And now, I am dealing with the loss of my mind, all my childhood fears haunt me, all the memories come back worse, your voice telling me to Bite It Off has seemed to chase away all my sanity.

            I tell myself that you’re no longer here, but how do I give up someone who gave birth to me. Who fed me, clothed me and raised me? But then I look at being raised, I look at the way you treated me even into my married life when you could and would call at all hours of the day. How I would jump planes and rush to be at your side to hold your hand, only to find out in the end I was alone the whole time. Till next time……

Did Pat Benatar sing about Surviving?

Pat Benatar, Hell is for Children:

They cry in the dark, so you can't see their tears
They hide in the light, so you can't see their fears
Forgive and forget, all the while
Love and pain become one and the same,
In the eyes of a wounded child

Because Hell, Hell Is For Children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell, Hell Is For Children
And you shouldn't have to pay for your love with your bones and your flesh

It's all so confusing, this brutal abusing
They blacken your eyes, and then apologize
Be daddy's good girl, and don't tell mommy a thing
Be a good little boy, and you'll get a new toy
Tell grandma you fell off the swing

       And old song written in 1981, almost 30 years ago for an old problem that still happens today, behind closed doors and still kept a secret. A song whose very first two lines describe how a child deals with their abuse but it really goes one step further. If you read those two lines and place it in the context of a survivor who has not yet began their road to recovery or one who is just starting out, they too hide in the dark and hide in the light. This is how they keep their abuse a close secret. This is how Love and Pain became one in the same in the eyes of a child and is scary as an adult. What was once a way to hide the scars of the abuse has now become the way to hide the scares of the past. It is driven into us to forgive and to forget because a majority of the abusers are family or friends and at a young age it is very confusing between right and wrong most of the time. Anger is something that at an early age we learn however it is not till we are a little older where we learn to focus and direct this feeling. It is because of this that as children we think if we forget we have forgiven.

       As we grow older, we learn that to forget and forgive are actually two different concepts. The phrase "I forgive you but will never forget" becomes something that is so real in ones mind because it was family or a close friend we were required to forgive them yet we all know is something we will never forget. This actually becomes an issue when one starts out on the road to recovery. While the first step to recovery is to admit you were abused, the results of this opening is anger, a feeling that has laid so low in our souls just smoldering waiting for the day it can be released. You see, for some people, all this time they loved, cared for and even looked up to their abusers because they really did not know what happened. Some people knew what happened, however because it was family it was hard to walk away or even tell someone in fear of hurting their abuser. Then there are the few, who knew it was wrong and was able to stand up to them by telling someone about the abuse, but no matter where you fit in all this the little flame of anger still smolders inside us. Once we admit the abuse and start to deal with it, the anger we maybe once felt, feel or never felt begins to grow, bigger and larger till we start to become confused as if we really forgave them and then the question, did I ask for it or did I want it to happen. Even though these questions are never true that an abused person is never a willing person. Forgive me if I coin a phrase "You can't rape the willing" is a phrase that is so true. If you were willing then it would not have been abuse and it would not be so painful to look back, and believe me if you had to close your eyes, picture something else during, asked no, cried, screamed, felt dirty or ran away to anyplace you could find to hide then it was not willing.

       Oh yes, don't tell anyone and you will get a new toy or if you tell I will hurt you even more. Each a way to stop you from coming forward either by a gift to make it look like it was okay or a threat that made you think and fear your abuser. When you are a child your life does become such a mess. For me, I withdrew from friends, my grades dropped, I was sent to the doctor because I became unruly in class where I could not sit down, pay attention or could not stop trying to be the center of attention. Of course back then the teachers were not trained to look for signs of abuse because it was such a taboo and discipline was still accepted and okay to be harsh. Yet in the song we can see where becoming a mess can also relate to recovery. When we embark on our road to recovery we are filled with emotions we can't control, depression that consumes us, and memories that make us want to run all over again or worst yet hurt ourselves or others. And again in most cases today, families still carry the attitude of don't tell or say that it was something by someone other then who it really was. Recently I read on a blog where a distant family member asked that the blogger not write so much because it was hurting the family, the blogger did the member the favor. Later he realized he was doing just what he had been doing for so many years, telling people he got hurt by a whole other means or not talking at all.

       One of the hardest steps in any recovery is admitting that you were abused, and when I say abused I mean really abused. Not just a topical abuse but a deeper, painful and life changing abuse. What once was a very innocent little child or a wonderful adult abused at the hands of another it is a life that is changed forever. The person will never view life or people the same as they did, it will change the path of growing old and it will alter their personality. If you really think about it, Abuse is one thing that can really change the future without any doubt. But the decision to get help, to admit there is a problem, to get where you can stand up and say "I was abused and I am not going to let it run my life anymore" is the one chance that YOU have to change the future from the path that the abuser set you out on. It is your chance to make a choice to get off that path and create one of your own. Until next time.....

Don't trust the box.

     Be it Christmas, a Birthday or any other reason to receive a gift there is one thing my Children have always said, "Don't Trust the Box!” The reason they have come to learn this phrase is that my family reuses boxes from just about anything as long as the gift will fit. So if my youngest daughter receives a new coffee pot for Christmas it's one of those "Don't Trust the Box" moments. The real surprise comes when she opens it to find a doll inside the whole story changes. This phrase can be used in a lot of situations, and one of them is that of an abused person.

       Someone who has been abused has learned to hide the visible signs and scars of the abuse as well as the emotional ones that run deep inside. They become masters of disguise and masters of illusions keeping their secret so well that not even the closest of person will have any clue that there is a secret being kept from them. The other part of this is those who are on their road to recovery do not look sick, and aside from being really depressed show no signs of any internal confusion, hurting, memory problems or any other sign that they are truly sick and suffering from something that can be so debilitating, so horrifying that they actually have problems dealing with life, society and one's self. Dealing with the past is a heavy road to travel, marked with unknowns, uncertainties, and fears of what might come up or when. This becomes a major problem when they are faced with situations that are often triggering to them that can come from the weirdest of places. For example, walking down the mall and seeing someone who walks the same as their abuser, someone who has the same type of hair, some sounds they hear in the back of a store or conversation as they walk by can trigger them or worse yet there could be someone who looks just like the person who abused them in the past. And if this abused person is hiding their past from the world what happens next is what every abused person deals with, to hide the reaction and deal with it on their own inside. Eventually it becomes a boiling pot that with each experience becomes ready to explode.

       One thing that very few people who have been abused is talk about their past, tell loved ones, or straight out deal with their past. Of all this the hardest thing to do is tell someone they love that they were abused especially if it is someone that they know or if it is a family member. Remember the phrase "Blood is thicker that water" well in many cases when the truth does come out the abused person is met with disbelief or even doubt that the abuser could be capable of this. This reaction can be very devastating to the one who is opening up because that little doubt or question they always carried if they asked for it or not only becomes stronger. This only forces the truth to become more silent or what has come out becomes less and less of the whole story and more of what was said is about it. They in protecting themselves from the pain of it all will also begin to protect the very person that abused them and this sometimes is how it goes on.

       Receiving this reaction is not always the reaction that some abused people get. They receive understanding and love like you would not believe. When I told my wife, her opinion of me never changed in fact it grew stronger because I could gather up the courage to allow her into my soul where the darkest of darkest secrets lied. It was a gift to me to have such understanding and support which was something that I really did not expect. Even after all these years it is hard to believe with all that I am going through that she is still standing by me. One of the fears I have is that she might not understand me any more or worse yet that she is going to leave me. Not because she treats me bad, not because she does not accept me, but rather inside of how I feel what I am going through scares me. We have been married 20 years and with our children still living at home, she has become mother, father, wife, babysitter and everything else that goes on what a stay at home mother does. Mother’s taxi is no longer the job she ran. She now runs mothers counseling center, mothers nursing services, as well as every other job you can think of that a wife does. Becoming so depressed and debilitating from the breakdown has changed my life into something I don't want to be, however it has also tossed her life into more positions in the house, more confusion and carries fears of loosing her husband that man she married so many years ago.

       Abuse as a child that is carried so deep for so long can really change a person, a relationship and most of all their minds. It becomes a sickness rather then memories in the mind, one that not all people fully recover from or that not all medications help. Marriages, friendships, family, jobs and other social events can become a thing of the past if not treated correctly. The most important thing is that the right people, who actually know how to listen, diagnose and treat a person for what they are dealing with are found. For years I had PTSD, then I met my current team of doctors and counselor who was able to see the truth of what was going on with me. My PTSD was really Complex PTSD, I suffered from DID and this all was contributing to my Major Depression. Although I am still dealing with this and in the true beginning stages of my recovery I am blessed to have my Wife who attends all my appointments as she stands by my side, to have an excellent team and the blessing of some family members who understand. And most of all, I have God in my life even though it is hard for me to attend services with a large group of people. This Agoraphobia really helps to take its toll on someone who used to be very outgoing.

       With all this said when you are faced with someone who maybe acts or looks like they are afraid of something remember that phrase that my Children taught me many years ago, "Don't Trust the Box". Listen, keep an open mind and most of all don't judge a person you really don't know much about. The phrases "Don't judge a man till you walk a mile in his shoes" or "Really listen before you make your first impression" stand out in my mind. I hope this is something that will stand out in your mind as well. Till Next Time....


      

A very depressing day today.

       Today was a gloomy day outside, it was cloudy and raining which sometimes turned into sleet. I don't know if it was the weather outside or a continuation of the last several days. A couple days ago, I wrote about how deep the depression was and what it was doing to me, as a person. Today I could write the same story as if that day continued right into today as one continuous day.

       I believe that the problems I suffer from are starting to take its toll on me and my mental status. The depression how it brings me way down, the memory problems forgetting things that happen as short as 2 minutes ago to happenings deep into my past, the alters who act out during the day or even have conversations with my wife to the shaking of my body. Today I was so drained of energy and yet I was shaking like one of those chattering teeth that used to flop around the table if you set it down.

       It is hard to believe that what happened in my past has taken so much control over me like it has today. What even surprises me even more is the fact that my mind held it so quiet and distant from my forward self, that when I did have my breakdown and everything came flowing forward where the strength to handle it came from I do not know. What you must understand is that I have dealt with rectal bleeding for as many years as I can remember. I also know that my abuse started at age 7, this I had already knew, but when I found that my first hospital visit for rectal bleeding was at age 7 it bothered me like you could not imagine. And to have the surgeon place the rubber bands on what he called a hemorrhoid then to walk for 3 days feeling the rape all over again just flipped me out. There was nothing I could do, nothing I could say and nothing I could put on it to stop what I had to deal with for those 3 days.

       This was for sure the beginning of the meltdown for me and the start of a journey I had no choice but to embark on whether or not I was ready to walk this road. As many people feel I too felt all the emotions that go along with finding out or learning more about who, what, when and how the abuse progressed. The only answer I will never find out is why, and this is one answer that is the most sought after answer for anyone who has been abused. I can say for sure, that a part of my answer can be found in other things that happened at the hands of my brother, and that was for personal satisfaction. Why he needed this form of satisfaction I will never understand and is the other part to the answer I will never get. Even though my brother is still alive, serving a life sentence for Child Sexual Abuse he has never admitted that he had abused my sister or me in anyway. He always viewed it as experimentation, which some very young children will do however never cross the line into the things he had done to us. Another flaw in his reasoning is that when he actually raped me for the last time I was 15 years old which placed him at 19. Not many people at that age are considered children and the age of experimentation had long past.

       The Revelation that my Mother had actually had known the abuse was going on really tossed my mind into a spiral from shock into deep depression. For many years I had known about some things that took place in my home but my mind never allowed me to view it as it really was. In fact, after growing up with the abuse it all but seemed normal to me so I never questioned it. Besides the one thing he told us that he would kill us if we ever told, and that it was okay because everybody did it. If that was the case, then I would not have been normal if I did not do it. For someone who was trying to fit in because of social problems caused by my abuse I felt this was the right thing to do. And social problems, I remember listening to a song "Bad Bad Leroy Brown" where he even had a razor in his shoe. I actually put a razor blade in my shoe when I went to school one day because I thought I would be cool or even yet, Bad. The only thing I ended up with was cuts all over the bottoms of my feet. This too would be the beginning of a long road for me as because of my withdrawal at school and at home I often looked for things that I could do to make myself accepted. This is also where the Stockholm syndrome fits into my life. Because I wanted to be accepted and it would be better to stay at my brothers side. This is the one area where I had my confusion on if I was abused or asked for it. I am learning now that I did not ask for it, that in fact he used me for his personal satisfaction is the real reason I suffered at his hands. Not only sexually but physically abused due to the beatings I received by him for refusal to allow him to do his things or just that he liked to beat on me to practice his Karate on me. And it was not a no touch, it was full contact. Mother would always say, one day I would grow up and take him down and he would never get in trouble. Just like she said to bite it off the next time I am forced to go down on his penis. Again he did not get into any trouble and thus it continued.

       What really bothers me today is that my depression is not preceded by any thoughts of my past that I know of. I try and live in the present but the fears, shakes and feelings have a tendency to keep my mind not 100% in the present and I really do not know why. This is something that I need to work on and something I need to look deep within myself to see if I can find any clue as to why I act the way that I do. Well, that can be another topic because I have a feeling is has to do with my DID and if it does I need to learn how to control this somehow. Until next time......

What is with my mind?

       OK, I am confused in fact I am really confused and I do mean REALLY confused. I feel like I am loosing my mind piece by piece but my wife says that my alters are really starting to come out more and more. Here is what is going on.

       Several nights ago I had picked the kids up at school and bring them home, no problem. I was speaking to them and when I finished my sentence they all said "Yeah and what". I was very confused and had no idea what they were asking me. My daughter said "Dad, you said guess what and then just stopped". I looked her dead in the face and asked what she was talking about. I did not know that I had said something more past what my sentence was. The fact that they all asked means that I must have said it; I just did not remember it at all.

       Last night while moving my utility trailer back towards the house with my ATV we were backing up the machine to the trailer when someone said something. Instead of grabbing the break as I ALWAYS do I pressed the throttle smashing my machine into the crank of the trailer. Problem here was the more they yelled the more I pressed on the gas totally smashing the back end of the machine where now I have to replace the whole tail light system and back storage unit. I just lost my mind and reacted different then I would have any other time. Then when it came time to back the trailer up I could not do it. Here is someone who can back a 32 foot camper between two oak trees, with no guiders, place it livel and within inches of the septic tank never even having to pull forward once. I was so confused on where to turn my wheels that I got off the machine as had to ask my daughters 16 year old boyfriend to do it. To top the night off my youngest I wanted to speak with, I kept yelling Janet, Janet and she just kept walking. However everyone in the room all asked me why I called my daughter Janet when that is not even close to what her real name sounds like. Then my wife asks why I had to pass a Monument store and tell my son that in two years I will need to buy one of those and when confronted by my wife I have no recall what so ever saying that, especially to my son or any of my kids.

       Ok, so is my mind going on the wild side of life or is my wife correct that my alters are starting to make their presents known more and  more? If this is so much the case how can I stop them from doing this? It is really bothering me today. I am becoming scared; I am starting to wonder if I am loosing my mind. This they say is perfect example of someone with Disassociation Disorder. All I know is that it has me so confused I don't know what to think.

       Well, that is my short off the chest comment. This is something I really had to get off my chest because it is really bothering me. And one thing, a major part of those who have been sexually abused also suffers from this and never says a word to any one about it. Two people I know who have it have never told their family or anyone. If that is two how many more deal with it in silence? Till next time...