Resilientbibliophile
Silver Member
Hello,
I'm not sure what I will articulate here can or will be construed as outright abuse, but I have to try in measure to articulate what atypical legacies I live with and perceive the world through. Some of this will read like an art house film script, and nothing - nothing I read seems to capture what I've sensed, what I've felt within the sexual abuse literature I've perused.
Emotional abuse at home, unexpected last of third children with father disowning me from the start; i.e. I was not to talk to him, I would leave the room when he entered, was under strict instructions not touch his possessions, his toys, etc. There was no emotional room, no emotional space to afford within this household circumstance. I lived but did not officially exist.
For alcoholism and various means of self-abuse he effectively killed himself, whereas many a ruse was mounted to deny me access to him during his lengthy hospitalizations. Excuses were offered to keep me free and clear of him, under the presumption that he'd do less damage to my ego if my fated-to-fail attempts to matter in his life were preempted. I was going to be kept away from his funeral service when he died at 39 y.o.a., and myself but 11 y.o.a. to supposedly insulate me from further trauma. All the while no one explained what I'll declare here as his illegitimate animosity towards myself. I've felt defective my whole life, and it started here...
One older sister also became caught up in the practice of drinking heavily, and before she did I attached myself to her for to be close (and silent) I might pick up some residual attention my father lavished upon her. Hints of sexual abuse between the two, but no facts, no proof. Mother detached, dissociated, hard-of-hearing, and 'gone' even whilst present. Overwhelmed by depression and grief, my mother and I role-reversed and I was lent on heavily even as my own needs were neglected, whereas my older sister became a volatile and deeply unpredictable presence whom I either obeyed without resistance or was castigated by as entirely untrustworthy and unlovable. Again, there was no space for me.
What followed could be likened to what is termed non-touching sibling sexual abuse; i.e. exploration of roles, fantasies, behaviors part and parcel of coming of age with a sister five year my senior who was entirely capable of leveraging my fear of abandonment - and did so absent awareness time and again. I felt like her slave, experienced within thoughts akin to desire, but developmentally unprepared and filled with self-loathing. The oft. repeated mix of longing stoked and exploited if you will by someone who wasn't thinking like a parent but rather adept at engaging in psychological sport. I have to remind myself time and again that each of us was suffering, and that acting out of some kind was virtually inevitable.
Hurrying now, both my primary and secondary school years were a horror, with the only social network I could tap being the nascent blue collar youth homosexual to be underground within which I circulated. I was absolutely terrified, I couldn't relate to others, and any experience of sexuality seemed to leave me still more deeply scarred. Interpersonal development along the lines of reasoned heterosexual development halted, and when I finally broke ranks from my then-friends to find myself in possession of a heterosexual orientation - I couldn't do anything but express longing for relationships I couldn't initiate with likely females in my orbit.
In short, blurred memories of sexually-charged experiences with developmental aspects rooted in a sadly warped and underdeveloped heterosexual identity that wasn't impact and color my every relation with the opposite sex. I experience countless crushes, and then soon feel I cannot be in the same room, speak to, or so much as coexist with like-age or younger females. Crying jags follow, memories of relations valued but never to translate into loving relationships or some semblance of interpersonal stability and happiness haunt me incessantly. I feel like damaged goods, I often prompt people to comment and tease for my vulnerabilities and behavior, and yet in common conversation such can never be spoken of.
In closing, I so-fatigue for materials that afford hope for gay youth striving towards expression of right homosexual identity or materials that typical cast older males as the reliable agent of abuse when (if only in my circumstance) I cannot so-identify. To read such materials is to gain insight, and often valuable insight at that. But so too it is to experience denial; i.e. the unintentional echo that reverberates to the extent that anything that happened to me doesn't strictly count. In particular, but for Heavenly Creatures I've not seen so much in film that suggest the air of danger and broad-based hatred - to say little of violence that young homosexuals experience day-in, day-out. And for all this, I was on the train carrying friends going to the destination marked 'Right and Assertive Homosexual Identity' but felt uncomfortable and opted out. Generally good for them, but absolutely gutting and horrible for myself to experience. In a sense I feel I threw myself off the train without directions, without a map, without a clue...
Bitter then, lost, quite alone - and in tears and on the floor by myself even as a balanced heterosexual relation seems possible at one moment, and irrecoverably barred to me the next. Three relationships with trauma-impacted female survivors in their own right mutually heightened P.T.S.D. recall. Relations between people impacted by trauma are typically heavy going, and yet such pain experienced here! Will I have no healthy relations then? Sorry for the egregious use of bandwidth. Thanks - I appreciate you affording me your attention even as I cannot see or sense those who might read this message complete.
M.
I'm not sure what I will articulate here can or will be construed as outright abuse, but I have to try in measure to articulate what atypical legacies I live with and perceive the world through. Some of this will read like an art house film script, and nothing - nothing I read seems to capture what I've sensed, what I've felt within the sexual abuse literature I've perused.
Emotional abuse at home, unexpected last of third children with father disowning me from the start; i.e. I was not to talk to him, I would leave the room when he entered, was under strict instructions not touch his possessions, his toys, etc. There was no emotional room, no emotional space to afford within this household circumstance. I lived but did not officially exist.
For alcoholism and various means of self-abuse he effectively killed himself, whereas many a ruse was mounted to deny me access to him during his lengthy hospitalizations. Excuses were offered to keep me free and clear of him, under the presumption that he'd do less damage to my ego if my fated-to-fail attempts to matter in his life were preempted. I was going to be kept away from his funeral service when he died at 39 y.o.a., and myself but 11 y.o.a. to supposedly insulate me from further trauma. All the while no one explained what I'll declare here as his illegitimate animosity towards myself. I've felt defective my whole life, and it started here...
One older sister also became caught up in the practice of drinking heavily, and before she did I attached myself to her for to be close (and silent) I might pick up some residual attention my father lavished upon her. Hints of sexual abuse between the two, but no facts, no proof. Mother detached, dissociated, hard-of-hearing, and 'gone' even whilst present. Overwhelmed by depression and grief, my mother and I role-reversed and I was lent on heavily even as my own needs were neglected, whereas my older sister became a volatile and deeply unpredictable presence whom I either obeyed without resistance or was castigated by as entirely untrustworthy and unlovable. Again, there was no space for me.
What followed could be likened to what is termed non-touching sibling sexual abuse; i.e. exploration of roles, fantasies, behaviors part and parcel of coming of age with a sister five year my senior who was entirely capable of leveraging my fear of abandonment - and did so absent awareness time and again. I felt like her slave, experienced within thoughts akin to desire, but developmentally unprepared and filled with self-loathing. The oft. repeated mix of longing stoked and exploited if you will by someone who wasn't thinking like a parent but rather adept at engaging in psychological sport. I have to remind myself time and again that each of us was suffering, and that acting out of some kind was virtually inevitable.
Hurrying now, both my primary and secondary school years were a horror, with the only social network I could tap being the nascent blue collar youth homosexual to be underground within which I circulated. I was absolutely terrified, I couldn't relate to others, and any experience of sexuality seemed to leave me still more deeply scarred. Interpersonal development along the lines of reasoned heterosexual development halted, and when I finally broke ranks from my then-friends to find myself in possession of a heterosexual orientation - I couldn't do anything but express longing for relationships I couldn't initiate with likely females in my orbit.
In short, blurred memories of sexually-charged experiences with developmental aspects rooted in a sadly warped and underdeveloped heterosexual identity that wasn't impact and color my every relation with the opposite sex. I experience countless crushes, and then soon feel I cannot be in the same room, speak to, or so much as coexist with like-age or younger females. Crying jags follow, memories of relations valued but never to translate into loving relationships or some semblance of interpersonal stability and happiness haunt me incessantly. I feel like damaged goods, I often prompt people to comment and tease for my vulnerabilities and behavior, and yet in common conversation such can never be spoken of.
In closing, I so-fatigue for materials that afford hope for gay youth striving towards expression of right homosexual identity or materials that typical cast older males as the reliable agent of abuse when (if only in my circumstance) I cannot so-identify. To read such materials is to gain insight, and often valuable insight at that. But so too it is to experience denial; i.e. the unintentional echo that reverberates to the extent that anything that happened to me doesn't strictly count. In particular, but for Heavenly Creatures I've not seen so much in film that suggest the air of danger and broad-based hatred - to say little of violence that young homosexuals experience day-in, day-out. And for all this, I was on the train carrying friends going to the destination marked 'Right and Assertive Homosexual Identity' but felt uncomfortable and opted out. Generally good for them, but absolutely gutting and horrible for myself to experience. In a sense I feel I threw myself off the train without directions, without a map, without a clue...
Bitter then, lost, quite alone - and in tears and on the floor by myself even as a balanced heterosexual relation seems possible at one moment, and irrecoverably barred to me the next. Three relationships with trauma-impacted female survivors in their own right mutually heightened P.T.S.D. recall. Relations between people impacted by trauma are typically heavy going, and yet such pain experienced here! Will I have no healthy relations then? Sorry for the egregious use of bandwidth. Thanks - I appreciate you affording me your attention even as I cannot see or sense those who might read this message complete.
M.
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