Grooming, truth be told.

           What you are about to read is something that is real, it is not fake and things have not been added to this story. This is one of my abusers that took advantage of me a couple of years after my brother first started his sexual abuse on my sister and me. Here is my story:

It was only four days after Christmas when my birthday arrived. Growing up in the military as an Air Force brat, my tenth birthday was the one I had waited for as long as a nine year old could.  You see, when you’re a son or daughter of a parent who is in the military it is the first time you get to receive your first military dependant identification card. Being a military brat, as children of service people are called, turning ten was just as if not more important as turning sixteen. Just like four days prior, I could not sleep that night and was ready to jump out of bed at the first sign of light as it peeked through by my bedroom window letting me know that the day had officially arrived. I jumped out of bed so fast that I don’t really believe my mind had a chance to fully process that I had just switched from pajamas to clothes for the day.  

            The very next move on my list was to let the rest of the family know I was awake. As I rounded the corner from the hallway to the stairs that would take me down to the living room, I could already hear voices just above the sound of the television letting me know that my parents had already woke to start the day. This day was extra special because becoming the age where you’re able to get your ID made you feel like you were becoming an adult because in order to enter some stores I would have to show this card to enter, just like having to show a card to get into a grown up restaurant. I was so excited there was nothing that could change my mood on that day, but little did I know that this day would also to be the start of the second chapter in book of my life. Then again, when your ten years old, chapters never seem to start or end they just kind of blend together like a play changing scenes without the curtain ever coming down or the props switching from one to another. Just as the play runs on, so did the chapters in the book, overlapping each other never seeming to end as the next started.  

            In school I also had a group of friends that all played together on the playground, specially one girl who was one of my best friends in school. It also happened that this girl’s mother was the teacher on the grounds and also became really good friends with me both in school and outside. So naturally I would visit outside of school and got to know the family very well, and now that I had reached ten years old I was old enough to volunteer at Family Services on base which was a service that provided loaner furniture to arriving families new to the base when their household belongings had not yet arrived. It was fun to go to work with my friend and mother for a couple hours a weekend, and since we all went together her mom drove me to and from work. Some days my friend would be sick and not able to go but I was always ready because I felt that it was fun to have a job even though I was not paid. On these days, her mother would pick me up alone and we would both ride in together and she would always bring me straight home. She was never late picking me up and never did I arrive home any later then she said I would. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as we would ride to work, she drove and I sat in the passenger’s side talking about school or what we may have planned for the day. It also did not seem out of the ordinary when she would rest her hand on my knee as we talked, as she always did with my friend. I got pretty comfortable with this because she seemed to treat me like a son where my parents did not do and besides she was only treating me the same way she treated her own daughter. Some days as she drove, the sun might get into her eyes or something because she would miss my knee and would rest her hand more on my thigh as we talked. One day, she missed my thigh all together and landed in my lap right on my groin. I was taken back but it was okay because she said it was an accident and said she was sorry that it had to do with her driving and not able really see where she was putting her hand. That was okay, I could understand that after all we were friends and she would never hurt me anyway and we were friends so the longer she might keep her hand there the less I would think about it being anything else but her resting her hand as she drove us to work.

            Then just as I had turned ten my friend had a birthday and of course I was invited to the birthday party so I rode my bike over to her house because she did not live very far away. We had cake, ice cream, played some games and went outside to play. After the party I was allowed to stay for dinner so I did not leave after everyone else did. I can remember very clearly her mother sticking her head around the corner down the hallway from her parent’s bedroom calling my name asking me to come down she wanted to show me something. When I came down she pointed to something on the other side of her bed just between the windows and the bed. I remember turning around and looking at her as she closed the door and locked it behind her. I really had no idea what she was doing, because maybe it was a present for her daughter she wanted to show me and did not want her to see it. However, just as fast as I could blink my eye things changed and I could feel my heart beating very fast as she sat next to me and placed her hand on my crotch as this time she was not driving a car. The words she spoke was, “I heard you were a great kisser” and proceeded to force a kiss on me, not on the cheek or forehead but right on my mouth.

            To this day I have no memory of what happened next but I do feel as if she crossed the line during and after that kiss. My only next memory was me riding my bike home crying as I rode as fast as I could back to my bedroom where I might feel safe. I have no idea how I was able to get out of the bedroom or her house to be able to ride my bike home. I feel I was lucky to be able to be riding my bike but this overlapping chapter would forever be forged into my mind and memory.

            What happened now as I have learned is that I was being groomed during all those trips to work. I was made to feel safe and trusting and never needed to tell anyone about what was going on, after all nothing was going on or so I thought.  After the party I was all groomed and ready for what would become an attack on my innocence what little I had left in my soul. I never told my parents what happened that day in fact it would not be another eighteen years before it would come out as a flashback and a nightmares. I had no idea where my life was going in the beginning and little did I know how this would forever change my life. I pray that this post will help someone realize just how easy it is for a child to be groomed and taken advantage of. I also would like to let people know that if it sounded easy, imagine how it could or would have been if she had bought the book off Amazon. To this day, I cannot pinpoint what took place after that kiss but things are starting to come forward and I will not know if this will soon come out or not. Thank you for reading as this was the hardest thing I have ever written. Until Next Time…

Post-traumatic stress disorder and me.

Post-trau-mat-ic / {pohst-truh-mat-ik, -traw-, -trau-}
-Adjective: Occurring after physical or psychological trauma
Stress {stres}
-Noun: Physical, mental or emotional strain or tension

           Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a type of anxiety disorder that's triggered by a traumatic event. You can develop post-traumatic stress disorder when you experience or witness an event that causes intense fear, helplessness or horror. Many people who are involved in traumatic events have a brief period of difficulty adjusting and coping. But with time and healthy coping methods, such traumatic reactions usually get better. In some cases, though, the symptoms can get worse or last for months or even years. Sometimes they may completely disrupt your life. In these cases, you may have post-traumatic stress disorder. Getting treatment as soon as possible after post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms develop may prevent PTSD from becoming a long-term condition. (Mayo Clinic)

            The exact manor of how people develop PTSD varies between people, even if it is the same situation. Two people may witness the same traumatizing accident, watching a person killed and will have two different stories, views and may very well experience after effects of this psychological trauma different ways. After affects will touch each person in different ways and they will experience different symptoms of this trauma. The timing where one may or may not show signs of having any trauma is never set in stone, there is no guarantee that every person will feel these after affects at the same time, same degree or will handle it the same way. Some people will experience PTSD many years after usually triggered by an event or memory that will bring the trauma to the front of ones mind. Each person is different on how theirs will manifest, if it does, but the one thing that they will share no matter what, is that they will all feel some type of anxiety at some level as they begin to process the thoughts and images of what they had witnessed. This is also true among survivors of abuse, where the past could manifest very soon after or a much longer period of time from when the actual abuse took place. No matter when this affects a person, the person could experience flashbacks, or reliving the traumatic event for minutes or even days at a time or upsetting dreams about the traumatic event. May people who might show outward signs will exhibit what is called avoidance where they very well may try to avoid thinking or talking about the traumatic event, feeling emotionally numb, avoiding activities you once enjoyed, hopelessness about the future, memory problems, trouble concentrating or difficulty maintaining close relationships. In all these sign and feelings, the onset of PTSD will also trigger depression which could lead into Major Depression if not treated correctly.

            In my own experience, when my first daughter was born I was unable to change her diaper without fear of someone looking or watching me. I was unable to build a relationship with my daughter from that moment on and because of this fear and I knew I needed to get help. I sought counseling to discuss my problems but was never diagnosed with PTSD, in fact I was treated more for depression then anything else. A few more years past and I experienced another bout of memories and this time they included flashbacks and nightmares. Again, I sought out counseling for these problems that I was going through and saw a another counselor each week for a little over a year. I was treated for depression and again never heard the words or letters PTSD. A little less then a year after both my parents had passed away and 36 years later was when I had my biggest breakdown and flooding of flashbacks, dreams, memory problems, all the classic signs of avoidance and suicidal ideology where I could see myself doing it yet had no desire to do it. This is when I decided I needed some type of real help, from someone who knew what they were doing and understood what I was going through. This time however it was ten times worse then the two prior attempts to get help. What started at the age of 8 and continued for many years had now manifested it’s self into a very debilitating and severe case of PTSD. I was hospitalized several times and properly diagnosed and teamed up with a counselor who knew how to handle my problem and help me start on my road I am on to recovery.

            Many websites, articles, medical information and just about everywhere you research PTSD will explain what it is, how it comes about, the reason it does and what to look for in a person who is suffering from it. However there are more problems that come with PTSD that I have suffered from as a result of the sexual abuse. For many years, almost starting with the birth of our daughter, I was afraid people were watching how I acted, handled or even looked at my daughter. While none of this was really true, the fear I had was so great that I never changed a diaper for the longest time. This same fear also moved into my daily life where as anytime I saw a child or children I would have to look the other way out of fear that I was being watched. Last week, I attended my youngest daughters Halloween party in her classroom. I walked into the room and immediately became scared as this fear returned to me so bad that I sat in the corner and read a child’s book or sat talking to my wife. I thought that it was something that was wrong with me because I never read how sexual abuse affected people this way until tonight. On the Oprah show, a doctor was on and explained how some people, especially men will feel this way often destroying the relationship they have with their own children. I can not even explain the feeling I had listening to this doctor tell how men develop the inability to bond with even their own children, knowing that all along this had been me and I never knew other people felt this way. It is obvious to me now that all my life, my experiences have been dictated by my past. You will hear many people discuss how survivors can work on healing and recovering but the one thing that I seem to feel that is missing, is that a survivor needs to learn all over again how to become a part of society the same way someone who has spent years in prison would have to learn to blend back into the world. Yes, it may not be as closely related to a prisoner because I know how to use all the technology we have today, however learning to interact with other people on a whole new level is something that is going to be new and challenging especially for someone like me, I have a problem with authority. I too learned from the Oprah show that many men have the same feelings as I do about that. Again, I was surprised because growing up all these feelings and fears were a part of my daily life so I always thought it was just me.

            Today, after nine months of walking this path to recovery I learned a lot of how it was not just me but others like me who suffer the same results of their abuse. It really was two realizations at once, one being that I am really not alone and two that these feelings I have that others shared was more of an affirmation that my abuse was real and that my mind did not make it all up. Even though I know it happened, I relive it almost daily and I have other proof of my abuse it is something that in a way makes me feel more like a person and not just an abused little boy trying to survive from day to day. The main reason, because I am not alone, I am not weird, I am not a person who is rattled with many fears but that I am someone who suffered at the hands of another and that one day I will become the person I was born to be and in a way become reborn again into this world with a whole new outlook and perspective on life. That is, as long as I stay on the road to recovery I am on. Until Next Time….

For the first time, Craigslist triggers GOOD memories.

               A few nights ago, I stated that it has become very hard for me to think of any good memories of my past that do not become over shadowed by a bad memory or two. The deep depression I have never allows me to feel like there has ever been any good in my life and no matter how I try I can never find any good. This past post I referred to, I spoke about my Baseball game as one example where I loved to play and my parents never came to watch, good over shadowed by bad. Well, for the first time in a very long time, I was triggered by an ad on Craigslist that had a couple of photos attached. Triggers of GOOD memories and not the bad that has been going on for the longest time. The ad, a 1968 Volkswagen Beetle that someone here in Syracuse is selling. My father had a Volkswagen when I was a child, and even though this car was not the same color as the one my father had, his was green and this one was blue, it was enough to bring back memories of just my father and I riding in it. Let me have some fun and let me tell you a short story about the Volkswagen and the Doughnuts.

            I was about ten years old on that snowy night back in Jersey, we had just received about three inches of snow, all wet and slushy. Back in those days, three inches of snow was something we rarely saw and if we did, well it was time to hit the hill with anything you could find that would slide you down to the bottom. On this particular cold yet bright lit night, as it must have been a full moon casting its shadow over the new fallen snow, is when my dad wanted to go out and play, just like the stories he told from when we lived in upstate New York. In the most upper northern part of New York state, parts could get upwards of five feet on the ground or more, as the snow never melted during those cold bitter winters they had. So as dad grabbed his keys, looked at me and for some unknown reason asked me if I wanted to come along for a ride. Oh the fun I had as we drove around base housing at first, just driving around, until we headed for the schools and the big school parking lot. This would be the first time I would be introduced to the other meaning of the word, Doughnuts. We spun around more times then I could remember this little green Volkswagen car, and all I knew it was neat and my dad was doing it. After spinning around doing doughnuts for what seemed like an hour we headed up to the back roads of the housing area, and this time right to the front of the locked access gates, where we would do another round of doughnuts before heading home. I don’t know the reason why, but we never did share this experience again, and as far as I can remember my dad never went out doing doughnuts again. I do remember mom yelling because he had me out so late, but she was yelling at him, not me for a change so I did not care that she was upset, and it’s not enough to cloud the memory of the little green Volkswagen spinning around at school in the middle of the night.

            That was many years ago, I was a child and I had fun with my father. Jumping up to about 2 years ago I had the same fun with my children in the empty parking lot of a local store in my big Dodge Ram 1500. I had four of the kids and we went up and just spun around a few times. I did share the story of my dad taking me out to do that when I was a child and that it was only my father and I that went along. For some reason we never did that again, and last year we never did it but I think that just to create a good memory for me and my kids, we just might have to go out one night and spin the truck around again, of course it has to be in two wheel drive to have any good effect ya know!! I know it is a good memory that my kids have because once and a while when we drive by the store they often mention and ask if we are going to do it again. I think this year, depressed or not I am going to give my mind a spin and take my body and the kids along. Now we need to just wait for some snow to fall, and here in central New York that could be any day now, just have to keep watching the weather.

This morning when I awoke and went upstairs, I looked out and saw that Jack Frost had come to pay us a visit which I believe is the first visit of the year. It brings back to mind a saying that mother said every time we woke to frost and that was “Frost is on the Pumpkin”. I remember always looking for a pumpkin until I realized it was just something she said. Now that I think about it, there were a lot of phrases learned from mother growing up. My mother’s parents were Polish so we all did pick up on a few Polish words, and I do remember going to several dances and picnics with the Polish Church. I won’t go into memories that can go along with that because I am on a roll here with good memories. Being Polish, Easter and Christmas were very big holidays for us. I know, I talked once how I remember Christmas under the tree for me was nothing like my sister and especially my brother, however it is the food and trinkets that I remember now. One of the biggest things that we did as kids I remember was mother baking all sorts of Christmas Cookies. Even the Kurashiki was hand made which I wish I had the recipe to make, thank god they at least sell it in stores now. When it came to the tree, we all would decorate the tree and I remember how they would have to remind us to place some ornaments on the back side of the tree, as we always found the open spots in the front. Dad would always set the tree up, string the lights and we would go at it one by one hanging them as mother pulled each out of the box. I remember the one thing I loved to do was make faces in the BIG round ornament and see my reflection in it. Then dad would hang the garland and the tree would be finished, ready for the curtains to be opened for the world to see.

For the Easter holiday it was the Polish meats we had that bring back memories, something we still do today. We would always go shopping for the best cuts of meats, Kielbasa, Kishka and Polish Ham. We would buy the best bread, boil eggs, include Horseradish and other items in a basked and have them blessed on the Saturday prior to Easter Sunday. Another thing we did every year was that on Good Friday, which we always had school off, we would all be home to say prayers in front of the crucifix and candles at 3:00 sharp, the hour that Jesus was said to die on the cross. I remember delivering papers as a paperboy once and mother helping me because we had to be home by 3:00 as this was something we did no matter what. Sunday was always church, then home to eat from the basket of blessed foods. Later that day, we would have the big ham dinner with dinner rolls. The rolls were always my favorite as they still are today.

I am not going to let thoughts of my past enter my head as I am fighting them off because I want to have a pleasant post for a while. However, I am going to mention how surprised I am that my mother would be so stuck on tradition with religious holidays and still allow what happened in my past to happen. It does not make sense but then again, none of my past makes sense to me so why not this too. Well, I am going to end on that note as I am going to sit here, go back to the ad on craigslist and remember a little more about a Little Green car, zooming around the base, spinning around with two people inside. Until Next Time..

New book on Amazon, Movement to lower age of consent breeds new fight.

            Tonight’s blog is going to be about my feelings, the topic is going to be off base from my own healing and the road I am on to recovery for another topic that has me very angry. It is on the topic of Child Sexual Abuse and the changes that are going on in this country. These are going to be my thoughts because right now I am so angry and bitter that I don’t think I can even think about my own abuse except for the fact I want to run out and protect every child I see.           

If you subscribe to any child abuse web page, follow Twitter or Facebook you might have heard the news that Amazon online book store is now offering and online book called “The Pedophile's Guide to Love and Pleasure”. I can’t believe that there can be any kind of book written like this by someone let alone a company that would actually sell this. The story is being covered by all the major networks including CNN and FOX News and it has become an argument of freedom of speech and press. Many organizations have spent a lot of money to bring Sexual Abuse out into the open, and thanks to them there are more pedophiles being caught and brought to justice today then ever before and signs of abuse are being taught to all professionals who have any contact with the public. This book is nothing but a How to Do book on how to sexually abuse a child in a loving manor so that children will believe that it is acceptable to be in this situation as long as it falls under the umbrella of Love. What this has done is redefine the word Love to include adults who look to have sexual contact with children of very young ages.  

From homeless people on the streets right up to congressmen, more people are being caught and they are being prosecuted however with each arrest someone learns how not to be arrested. In regards to this online book it states, "This is my attempt to make pedophile situations safer for those juveniles that find themselves involved in them, by establishing certain [sic] rules for these adults to follow," a product description reads. "I hope to achieve this by appealing to the better nature of pedosexuals, with hope that their doing so will result in less hatred and perhaps liter sentences should they ever be caught." What fears me is that the mainstream media may be unknowingly playing a major roll through giving more information about countries and how they accept the marriage of young children as low as 12 years old which is beginning to change our own thinking. Just ten years ago you would not hear of so much sexual abuse in the news, now we are finding it is more common in our society then we think. If you look at comments that are made online it is generally the very young under age ten, who when abused, receive the most protest, most support and the most outcry. I honestly feel this is due to the change in the view of society towards sex and the fact that age of maturity and puberty is becoming younger. We now hand out condoms in schools, free pregnancy test for teens, some states have abortions for teens and they are not under any obligation to tell parents. A movement that has been growing in the silent background around the United States is pushing to lower the age of consent to age 12. Think about this, if you combine the movement that believes in this change with this book that will teach Pedophiles how to show love and thus groom children for consent, they will be free to do as they wish with our children without fear of arrest. Do your own search on Yahoo for “lowering the age of consent” and you will be surprised. In an article posted online (http://www.slate.com/id/2174841/) the author talks freely about older people who would be considered Pedophiles would not be prosecuted if the 12 year old was groomed well enough to consent. Take a look at the cases we see on the news the most, teachers, child care workers, family friends or neighbor hood parents which the age of the child is between 13 and 16. This would bring it all down to legal age where we would have fewer arrests and more abuses. There is an online petition to lower the age and release those who were arrested on age only related charges. We would also start to fallow other countries like India where a man is aloud to marry a girl as young as age 12.

My abuse started at age 8 and continued for many years past this, and I often felt I asked for it or it was my problem because I was a boy who reached an erection I must have enjoyed it or something. I am learning different now that it was not the case however in a society like the one proposed above any abuse above the age of 12 would no longer be considered abuse. My god, to even consider my son who is 12 giving his consent to allow an adult to have sexual contact with him is beyond belief. I wonder if any of these people have any idea what could happen to a child’s mind after this consent is given. As they grow older and they start to have regrets or even the pain that may go along with such an age difference could very well become a breeding ground of more PTSD and Major Depression. Using my own beliefs up until now, I felt I may have asked for it or allowed it to happen and yet suffered physical and mental changes could bring such a change to society that the very future of our country could be at risk. And to think, in places were prostitution is legal the amount of children who are runaways who would not understand what they were doing besides some guy is giving them how ever much would be the world to them as they need money and it would be an easy income.

My anger is strong over this, in fact my inner child is angry and fearful for all the children that can and would be affected. Some articles talks about how other countries are considering the same age change. So we have a new fight on our hands and this battle is going to be a hard fight to protect our children. It is going to become a legal world wide epidemic that could be fueled by crushes on teachers, teenage hormonal changes, pre-teens wanting to become like older siblings or just trying to fit in. The doors to a past like the 60’s where love and peace were the main goal of the young will be reborn and relived, except with a whole new age group of players. The bottom line, the allowance of this book or other books that may follow along with this movement that is real could very well bring our country into a new era, an era where parents will have even less control over their children and allow the ability of predators to prey on the young legally. The fight has begun and we need every person on board for this one. Until Next Time….

Trying to understand internal feelings and reactions.

            It is Tuesday night just passing into Wednesday morning, which means another day has passed and a new day is about to dawn in about 5 hours. Today was another good day ending on a sour note, meaning that just as the sun goes quietly down behind the horizon and night fall covers the sky, depression sets in just as quietly and dramatic as the change in the day.  Another feeling of depression, which is going to make this blog very boring because it seems that the feeling, comes on faster then a bullet passing through air. Just like the feelings of the past, no explanation, no warning just a silent change drifting thru my body and mind. It becomes very depressing being depressed so often with no real reason in front of me.

            I reflected on yesterday’s blog post and realized that I may have been looking at something that was not there, in the fact she felt I was abusing my brother by having my Sister and I going to confession. I spoke to my sister today and we discussed the idea together and while it may have looked as if I was abusing my brother, what really was going on was his control over my mother. The relationship between my mother and brother was very odd, and the older we became the more unusual it became. A few things that make this relationship unusual are how they interacted, the secrets that were kept from my father and his wife, and how my mother became more of a partner rather then a mother. My nephew, the one who was abused, was injured and had to be taken to the hospital. He was taken by my brother and mother where his wife stayed home alone. This happened quite often which brings in the question of why the two would be the ones who took him. Another odd thing is my brother was a member of a nudist colony who often hosted parties in his home, and during these parties my niece would always spend the night at my parents while my nephew was always kept at home. Again, I know my mother knew of my abuse and we are very well aware of this however could this be an indication that she was aware something could have been going on and like me did nothing to protect my nephew but rather protected my brother? When my brother was arrested, I found that all his belongings that had any credit card, loan or rentals were all in my mother’s name. My father claimed that he had no knowledge of any these activities and was very upset because this put my parents in to debt over $20,000 without him able to pay any of these bills. Why she did this I really do not know, yet it is another way how my brother and mother’s bond seemed abnormal. His wife had a child who lived in NY and in order for her to remain with my brother she was forced to give up custody of him which she did. They lived always within a few miles of my parents and he always spent a majority of his time over their house then he did at his own house. Remember, his wife was also the one who was arrested for having sex with underage boys along with him. It actually appears that what I deemed as her believing I abused my brother, was more his ability to take the favoritism shared by my Grandmother and my mother and turn it into his getting his way, or built up to him having some control over them. This also would explain how he was never made to go to confession, received any discipline and was able to obtain so much debt in my mother’s name rather then his.

            Even though I read over yesterday’s blog and discussed it with my sister, I don’t believe it had anything to do with the onset of depression this deep. Tonight’s depression is more like a feeling of being alone, different and almost imploded into the black hole that is the pit within my soul. As normal, this feeling worsens as I try to bring myself out trying to reflect on memories that have had a positive impact on my life or blessings that I should be happy such as my children and the fact I am able to waken each morning. Even though these are things I am grateful for, my head won’t allow me to stay focused on these thoughts. What is weird is that the thoughts I have are actually blank thoughts. There are no thoughts of past bringing me down, what has or has not happened, where I have been or where I am going or even feelings of worthlessness. A blank thought like a blank stare is feeling without the focus of anything, more like a blending of colors all blurred into one distinct feeling. Just as a black hole absorbs light, the blending of colors are all absorbed by this feeling on the inside.

            Dealing with my depression has become a daily activity and become more like a chore. Snapping out of it is not an option anymore but rather something that I have to try and work on every moment. The same has become true with the PTSD, where containment and grounding was once an easy thing to do have now become somewhat difficult because the memories I contain flash back and becomes harder to place back into vault I have created. This creates a problem for me because as time has been passing I feel as if I have been regressing in my healing. I know that there are suppose to be ups and lows during the healing process, but are the lows suppose to be feelings of the original breakdown or are they suppose to be a mild regression backwards? These are some questions I have now and because of these feelings I question if I am actually healing or just molding into a level of self conscious where I know I am here and alive however my inner self has stopped moving in time. I can say that from the perspective of DID there has been more activity between alters and my inner self and I am becoming more aware of the separate feelings each has, which makes it difficult to distinguish between my own feelings and that of an alters. And this could very well be the reason for the depression with the lack of knowledge or understanding of why I am in such a state of depression. It also could be the reason that the depression is so deep rooted that it will last for days becoming so deep at times that the physical part of myself becomes so overwhelmed that any energy or desire to motivate becomes hard, and thus any other desire becomes less important such as having an appetite or even the desire to care for my body on a self hygiene level.

            Either way, it seems to be a revolving door for me. Memories come and go then return, self worth and esteem which go hand in hand do the same, as well as any sense of having any reason to exist outside my own self being. I question many things such as what it would be like to live without the problems I am having, how it would feel to not live with the fears and rejections of self created beliefs. Beliefs that have no grounds yet are very real and powerful enough to disable any sense between past and presence or real and not real. Yesterday’s blog is a good example of this, one memory leads to one thought which in turn leads to speculation and doubt created by my desire to reach some type of reason for the experiences I had growing up. From a child who always looked for acceptance and understanding to an adult looking for the same, but will never really be able to obtain this as the two people I tried to reach are no longer alive to even give this to me. So in my internal search for this, I often create reasons for the lack of, or I continue to search out meanings and try and relate what I may feel or think into some type of reality. This is a question I always ask myself when it comes to feeling the way I do and the flooding of my mind after and that which created my breakdown. So, Until Next Time this can be food for thought tomorrow.   

From good mood to did my mother think I abused my brother?

Wow, I just read yesterday’s blog and I can see my mind was spinning faster then I thought. That is one thing that is awesome about blogging and not doing a journal in a note book or a word document is that it makes it so easy to go back and read what you wrote. After reading this over a couple things came to my mind which started to make sense as I read it and even read it a second time.

If you read my blog at all, I have said I have two alters, Keith and Robert. Well, I am aware of one other however I don't mention much about him because I am unable to find out anything about him. All I know is that he sits on a plate, like a dinner plate, and spins around and around. He does not talk; he just sits there and spins. I call him Michael. So like I said I was reading over my blog and the reference to the top spinning on the table, afraid to get close to the edge, fall off and break. Does this not sound like Michael and what he does? I could not believe that I used a top as an example but if you think about it, a plate is on a table and if the plate were to fall then the plate could break. It just amazed me again because I am still in amazement that I even have alters or that they are real. But I am learning fast that it's very normal in someone who has PTSD.

Today I had my meeting with my counselor which I went to without canceling. On the way there my mind was thinking, as it always does, and I was thinking about how my mother hated me. It dawned on me the reason why and it never occurred to me that she was telling me all along. When my mother and father were to get married my grandmother disapproved of their wedding because he was not marrying someone from Pittsburgh. From that moment on my mother really hated my grandmother whose maiden name was Davis. I remember now, all my life my mother telling me that I was the only one of the kids who took after the Davis side. I looked like a Davis, acted like a Davis or had the attitude of a Davis. I remembered that all my photos as a child, I really did look like my Uncle and nothing like my father. My brother on the other hand looked just like my father. When I got home from counseling I pulled out the photo album and sure enough, I have a photo I hang on my wall of my father and uncle as children and sure as pigs play in the mud, I looked like my uncle. So I believe now that I have an answer to why my mother hated me and that all along she would make comments I thought were just put downs. She very well may have been telling me her true feelings all along. And you know what the funniest part of this is; my mother was like my grandmother in so many ways I really smiled today for the first time, in a long time.

On the other side of the day, it was a bad day for physical flash backs with more sensations and feelings. I wanted to get sick and I tried to change my thoughts as fast as I could but like I said yesterday, it is so hard to do that while wading through the flood that has filled my head. Tonight I feel as if I am on the upswing after many days of the low, Currently I feel I am in a good mood, my mind is sitting on something else which is not good but I think is good, a cold room with no heat. Funny, several years ago I slept with the bedroom window open because I loved the fresh air and the warmth of the blanket snuggled under it. Then again that was more when I was younger and could deal with the cold weather better then I can now. Now, it's a fire place and two blankets and windows sealed up tight. Oh how things change as we get older, learn about things and view things a whole lot different then we would have many years ago, and I am only 44 what happens at 60? I am in no hurry to find out.

So I was discussing my mother and her anger, how she was controlling and all that. When my mother passed away I found a letter she had written to my father incase she passed away before he did. To read this letter was such a shock because I could not believe my mother felt this way about my father. There was so much hatred in the letter she wrote that I am actually grateful that he passed away first. This letter would have killed him on the spot or he would be nothing but a blob in such a state of depression the rest of his life. They were married 47 years when dad died, and to read this letter made it sound like she hated him from almost day one. I realize that my mother was someone who carried a lot of anger for some reason and cared about nothing, nothing but my brother that is. And as I sit here and think of it, my brother was also my grandmother on my moms side favorite. Everything was him to them and to my mother so that is something else that makes some sense into my mother.

So, mother makes a lot of sense now but the unanswered question to all this is why. I really don't care why anymore, it's just amazing how it was all in front of me and I never saw it. And the other why in my life is my sexual abuse. Why she allowed it to go on and did nothing to stop it. I know I mentioned before what she told us however I don't think I mentioned that on MANY occasions she would make me go to confession to tell my sins of playing nasty. Did you notice I said My Sins? Yeah, my brother was never made to do this and you know what I just now realized? When I went to confessions the priest would ask me to tell in detail about what I was telling him. Two things come to mind now, as I sit here and type this, one is that she must have been aware of a lot more of the sexual abuse then I can even remember, and two I could have become a victim of a priest has this priest been a pedophile like some have turned out to be. The thing that has me in a 180 degree turn on how I was feeling in the beginning of this post is to realize that she did know and somehow I think she felt it was my fault. That maybe I was abusing my brother or the one who started all the sexual behavior? OMG that is something I am having problems swallowing right now. Why would I have to go confess my sins and not my brother? If she knew it enough to tell me to confess, why did she not do anything to stop me from sinning? She continued to have me share a room with my brother and yet this was going on? If my son had any sign of doing this, be it experimental or not I would separate them in a heart beat. And since I was confirmed about the age of nine or ten and my brother was four years older then I was, would that not throw up some type of flag to someone? I realized in the beginning that I was made to go to confession and that this was a confirmation to me that she knew, but to realize that she may have thought it was me? I just sit here in shock right now. I am so sorry, but I do not even know what to type or say.

Well it looks like today’s somewhat good day has ended on a sour note. I really see now why they say that journaling is a good way to get things out and to view things that you already knew in a different way.  I know now what the discussion might be at my next counseling session. We all know how the feeling of did we ask for it plays in the minds of many victims, now I know why my thinking that way was so strong. And some how, I wonder if this is how he was able to beat me and explain it to my mother that I was abusing him. What makes some sense of this now, is that when he was arrested for sexually abusing his own son he claimed that my nephew would come under the blankets, play with HIM and he never told cause he was afraid he would get arrested. If this is what he told the police at his arrest then the possibility is there that he could have been telling my mother all these years. I just don’t know, if I am seeing something more then I should or if it is something more then I am saying. It really looks this way. Well, I am going to go get some sleep if I can. I will blog again tomorrow night so, Until Next Time…….

Tonights Scrambled Brain goes into overload.

       Well the weekend is over, and yet another week is coming up, dealing with depression and waiting for the doctor to decide if they are going to do ECT or not. I already know the pills are not working and of course they can't up anything because of the amount of medication I am already on. I am really starting to get angry over this depression. My wife asks me all the time what is wrong and as normal I can't tell her why.

       I just got back from Potsdam where I picked up a file cabinet to take to Liverpool for my Mother-N-Law. I am trying to remember what it was that came flashing into my mind on the way home. This forgetting and memory loss is getting old too. If I could remember I might be able to understand maybe why I am feeling so dam depressed. I know I was driving listening to Elvis on CD and I thought about where I was when he died. But that was no flashback that had nothing to do with my abuse or past. I believe I was thinking about the people's house we were visiting as they were really close to us. Maybe it had me thinking of the Air Force base we were at where the abuse started, but you must remember it started there only because it is the earliest age that I have any memory about. I believe I know what it was, I was thinking how my wife really likes to read my posts before they go online and the one part of my abuse that she has asked that I not discuss on my blog. To me it was and is very shameful even though it was at the hands of my brother. I actually sit here going over in my mind the things that he did to me, had me do and allow other people to do as well.

       I now have been out of work nine months and even though I have been in three hospitals and I am afraid that I am not going as far as I like to in my recovery. Then again life throws so many things at you that trigger things in my mind. Maybe another thing tonight that triggered me is my daughter got upset again with her mother. She told me how she is sick of life and just wants to kill herself. Bam, we know where that took me back to my mother and her pawn because she would always hold suicide over my head to get her way. I know she did not mean to do it, then again she has no idea about my mother.

       Ok, so here I am sitting in front of my laptop typing what is on my mind and I don't feel any better. The pain on the side of my head is back. Speaking of pain, I have this pain on the right side of my head just behind the temple. I was telling my Doctor about how this pain comes and goes and it is just in this one spot, does not move it just stays in this one spot. He said to me, "Your Brother and Father were left handed weren't they?" I said yes why, he tells me that would be the side of the head I would be hit all the time if the person was a lefty. I never ever thought of that, its physical flash backs that ya just don't have any control over. I was always getting slapped up the head. My father’s famous comment when he would do this, "What the hells wrong with your god dam head kid". Over time, it became a joke to me or more so I looked at it as if it were a nickname. Like at the dinner table, he would make me put my hand in front of him and her would stab me with his fork, I started to look at this as a game because I would move my hand as I got older and her would chase my hand stabbing at the table. We grew up with my father drinking so there are a lot of things he would do to hurt us when he was in his drunken state. And when mom made him quit, OH how he hated her. He blamed all their bad luck on her and became a wimp in the house giving total control over everything to my mother.

       Complex PTSD, when abuse happens over a long period of time not just a single happening, this is what I have. It has taken over my live, effected my family and what friends I did have they have walked away and I don't hear from them anymore. Besides the Severe Depression, the things that come along with PTSD really bring a person down even further. I made a comment on Facebook once, that if you want me I would be down to the dump on the bottom of the pile, down in the dumps. It’s a phrase that I can be honest with you does not even come close on how I am feeling when I am this depressed. My mind is spinning around like a top on a table, spinning around and around coming ever so close to the edge where it is just going to fall off the table and break as it hits the floor. Is this how someone feels when they commit suicide? That their life is just spinning and never knowing if it is going to stop or not. Feeling that after 9 months of treatment that the glimmer of hope is getting less and less visible almost as if they are walking away from the light rather then looking into the light. I have these days lately that I just do not want to get out of bed, I don't want to go anyplace and I plane just want to sleep it all away.

       If I know that everything was not something I asked for, then why does it hurt so badly? If I am living today then way are the memories so real to where I can feel and almost smell what it was like at that moment in the past? And what can I do to come out of this depression, they tell me to look at the good things in life but when your mind is so clouded with the past how can you wade through the flood and find a place of good memories. Every time I try and think of something good that happened to me, something comes up to ruin it. Like I loved to play baseball, and I think this was something good in my life and I was good at it. But then I think of how I was always just dropped off and I would play while every other team mate’s parents were there to watch. They even missed my almost home run which I was very proud of, but like I said they never came. Just like they never bothered to come when I played bowling on a league. I had trophies and patches given to me but never a parent to share in my excitement. BUT we attended all my brothers’ band concerts, his field band shows and anything else he was involved in. I was just the tag along. This is the reason I feel that after my sister was born my mother, or parents tried to kill me with that rat poison. GOD I wish I had a memory that could go back that far, I wish I had a memory that could go back as far as 10 minutes ago.

       Oh well, that was my garbled up mind in a nut shell. I have no idea what causes me to have scrambled brains for blogging on nights like this. I just type it as it comes to my head. I think a little bit of Robert came out to do a little typing so I hope no one was offended. Until Next Time.....

Gave my mind a rest and got creative.

       Tonight I was feeling all but depressed again, I don't know why again but it was just another down day. As I sat here looking at all the Tweets on Twitter I realized I was not really thinking, I was just reading along. I don't follow to many people and not to many follow me just yet so I flipped over to Facebook to play a few games to keep my mind moving. I find when I am depressed I don't think a whole lot and I only want to lay down and just sleep. I really don't care if I eat or not, I just don't want to move.

       So, instead of just blogging about how I felt which I could very well have done I decided to get a little creative and make a power point presentation. My mind was running in such overdrive that I could not keep my thoughts onto one topic. A first for me since I started my blog yet not the first time since February 12th. When I was last in the hospital for 3 weeks, they had crafts 3 times a week and I remembered how I felt when I did those. They helped calm me down so I could rest a little better and slow my mind down to a somewhat normal pace. So, For tonight's blog I am going to post my very first attempt at making a video. I know its not the best, for some reason the quality is poor and I hope it works. Send me comments if you would and let me know what you thought.  Until Next Time.....