Since I erased all my previous posts when I had my spiral….I
thought it important to tell my story once again…
Among the earliest memories I have is when we moved our
mobile home from K to a trailer park in MV. I was 5 years old. I met Kelly…another
5 year old. She became my girlfriend (as much as 5 year olds can have a
girlfriend) We held hands and exchanged pecks. It was all rather innocent, but
I was on the way to a normal, well adjusted, and socially normal childhood.
The problem was her older brother, Mike. He was 11. He lured
me behind a rock and made me suck his penis. That wasn’t enough….he pissed in
my mouth!! Can you imagine what that does to a 5 year old boy??? I was treated
like a toilet. It said to me that I didn’t matter. I was worthless. I died that
day! Over the course of the next 2 years my best friend and I were abused by
him on several occasions, forced to perform sex acts on him and each other. In
fact, he tried to play strip poker with me while our babysitter just sat there
and watched!!! She didn’t do anything to stop it.
I never told my parents.
We moved to M when I started second grade. This was a chance
for a new start in a new town….away from Mike. Of course I had very little self
esteem and was stunted in my social development due to the abuse I suffered.
There was a 4th grade boy named Kurt. He was a major bully. For some
reason he received enjoyment from beating on me. I endured regular beatings at
the hands of this boy. He was bigger and stronger. I was helpless and couldn’t
fight back. I would be hit, punched, kicked, thrown into snow banks, and have ice
and snow shoved into my face and hair and shoved down my shirt and pants. It
was horrible. My glasses broke several times.
There were some 5th grade girls who took pity on
my and would often come to comfort me and help me back up after these beatings.
The police were called on a few occasions, but it never resulted in any change.
I have a difficult time to this day trusting and bonding
with men. I have found it easier to befriend and trust females (despite some
negative experiences I will explain in a moment). I don’t even like it when a
male touches me in a non-sexual way. It makes me very uneasy.
I would occasionally act out and throw tantrums at this time
in my life. In some ways it was typical for a child to do that. In some ways it
was a cry for attention and help. My parents didn’t understand what was going
on with me. They became frustrated. My father would occasionally threaten to
call the police and have them take me away because I was a “bad boy” and needed
more discipline than they could provide. One day, after a particularly nasty
tantrum my father said that he did in fact make that call. He was just
threatening me to try and get me to behave. I know that he did and does love
me, but it gave me a bad case of abandonment issues. I was already filled with
feelings of self loathing. I was told by Mike that I was no better than a
toilet. Kurt thought I was a punching bag, and now my Dad (unintentionally) was
telling me that he didn’t want me.
We stayed in M for a year. After that we moved back to K. I
was leaving Kurt behind and thought maybe….just maybe I could make some friends….to
be finally accepted. But because of the abuse I suffered I was unable to mature
socially along with my peers. I found myself the object of social ridicule.
While Mike and Kurt told me I was worthless by their actions, now the words of
ridicule confirmed it with a whole new set of peers. I was teased mercilessly.
I was definitely not one of the cool kids.
When I entered junior high school I was experiencing the
normal attraction to girls. All I wanted was to be normal. There were occasions
where I would find myself attracted to a certain girl, I would ask her out, and
I would get shot down. Sometimes they were nice about it, sometimes they
ignored me, sometimes they would laugh…or their friends would laugh. I believed
that if they got a chance to really know me that they would like me, but nobody
gave me that chance. I was not cool. I was the outsider. This haunted me
through junior high and high school. Every girl I ever liked broke my heart. (April,
Lynne, Holly, Julie, April, Sherri, Amanda, Melody, Angie, Michelle). Any hope
of normalcy I ever entertained was gone.
At the age of 13 I discovered how to masturbate and had my
first orgasm. OH MY GOD! Some people turn to alcohol or drugs to kill their
pain, I found my drug. It was the endorphin rush of an orgasm. The dopamine
shot killed the pain….for the moment. I began to masturbate a lot. Sometimes 6
or more times a day. Whenever I had time alone I would be looking for that hit.
Whatever social problems I experienced would be gone in that moment of an
orgasmic high.
I still had self esteem issues though. By the time I was 16
I was frequently finding myself on the top of a bridge debating whether I
should throw myself into oncoming traffic and ending it all. I was clinically depressed.
I had no self worth. It was my fear of hell that kept me alive.
I would sneak peeks at the porno magazines whenever I could
at the local corner store. When my parents were asleep I would try to find
movies on cable that featured nudity. I would even turn on the scrambled porno
pay per views to try and make out what was happening.
By the time I turned 18 I would go to the video store and
rent porno movies….lots of porno movies….almost 4 or 5 at a time and I would do
that several times a week. I later started buying them. I went to strip clubs
when I could. Between the ages of 18 and 30 I estimate that I had spent nearly
$50,000 in adult entertainment….feeding my addiction.
I got married at the age of 31 and thought that it would
solve the problem. It didn’t solve anything.
Let me say right now that I absolutely love my wife and
always have. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. It is just
that I still have the patterns of addiction that I have not been able to shake.
I still find myself struggling and fighting my addiction. I
still hit up webcams, internet pornography, strip clubs on occasion, cybersex
chat, adult theaters. I am still an
emotional and social anorexic. I connect better with people online than I do
with people in real life face to face. I know that I need a shrink real bad,
but I don’t have any insurance to do that. I have never professionally dealt
with all these issues. I have been to SLAA meetings, but I have not gone in a
few months. I know I need to go back, but I am so caught in the grips of my addiction.
I know I need to let it go, but I don’t seem to have the will to do so.
I am fighting back tears writing this. Reliving the horrible
details of my past is pure torture. I know that it is an important step in
healing, but it hurts nevertheless.
I know that I need to reach out for help, but I don’t have
the will right now. I am hoping that by returning to my blogging that I might
find the strength and will to find my sobriety.
