Reaching Out to My Sisters/ Knowing The Silence/I Am An Orphan

Dear Sisters,

In my research and with all the public speaking and writing I have done over the last 25 years about surviving incest and many other forms of child sexual abuse, the next step is to have a few interviews with the people who have witnessed some of this first hand.  I was wondering if you would agree to an anonymous interview.  I would post the anonymous interview on my blog
but I would also ask that you be open to answering any questions that my come from the people who read my blog.   That would mean I would send you the questions after I receive them when people do read my blog.  I would also have a link to my Facebook page if any questions would arrive from that venue.

If you do not agree to this simple request I was wondering if you would answer some questions about when Robert and Eileen first proclaimed that I was mentally impaired and to what qualifications either of them had to make that assessment.   I realize that there was the trip to the Psych ward at [is it] St.Mary's Hospital [?] at the Flats and that may be something Bob and Eileen want to cling to to convince you and others to the validity of their misguided assessments but if they look at the laws of "Cause and Affect" they and anyone else of basic
cognitive thinking will realize that my actions and reactions were perfectly normal for what I survived in my infancy and young childhood.   Did you know I survived a near death experience when I was 4 years old?  Did you know that I had oral Gonorrhea when I was 4 years old?  I jokingly refer to that as "The Immaculate Infection"!  Funny Ha.  |

I Hope this finds you well and I look forward to your lengthy letter where we can catch up.

With all my love,

Uncounted Survivor



Dear Readers,

I have just sent this email out to my two sisters and without question I am sure that:

a) They will both not respond.   And…….
b) I am pretty sure they will give this email to the policeman who came to my apartment to question me about some shocking details of the ripples that happen after my survival of incest and other forms of child sexual abuse.

I have long thought of myself as an orphan.  It is a healthy way to think and a healthy way to just move forward.  The last attempt I had with sending my mother a letter and not getting a response was that it was a great relief.

If I would ask her if we ever got together and reminisced about the good old days, what would we talk about?  I had 3 good years with them.  I am 51 years old.  I am not going to edit out that amount of my life in order to have you in my life.   I know my mother worked her ass off cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, yard work, maintenance in the house and even working outside the house at 3 or 4 different jobs (over the years) but I am sorry, you married a pedophile that really put a monkey wrench in the mix.  I am NEVER going to pretend that 10+ years of molestation did not happen.  I am almost at the point of my achieving Personhood.  I am almost feeling complete.  I can not change the past, I can not pretend about the past.  

I will let you know if I hear from them.  Anyone want to place odds?!?

Uncounted Survivor

IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR FATHER/SON INCEST FOR PLEASURE, I WANT TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH YOU.

     In checking the statistics regarding the number of views each post has received,

        I FIND IT DISTURBING THAT THE POSTING 

        ABOUT A POSSIBLE INTERVIEW WITH A FATHER

        AND SON INCEST COUPLE HAS RECEIVED THE 

        MOST VIEWS.  2,954 VIEWS.  THIS SAYS   

        SOMETHING!

       As always I try not to judge, but it is difficult to address the issues of incest and child sexual abuse 

       if the people involved either directly or from the ripples of the effects refuse to have a conversation 

       with you.  

    I would love to have a conversation with a few men who are                    

     attracted to father/ son incest especially if it is with a son who is underage.  

       I want to open up the discussion with people who are in the center of this issue.  

  

    Please Join in the Conversation.  Thank You. 

        

Now, Voyager

I was thinking about an uncle of mine who used to drink a case of beer a day.  He has been sober for more than 35 years.  Very happy for him and proud of him.  I was thinking I will always be a survivor of incest.  I believe that I have for the most part put all the pieces together from my shattered life but there will always be triggers and there is small part of my puzzle I do not believe I will ever know.  

I was on a kind of camping trip.  I am not sure but I believe it was part of a scouting trip.  I believe there was a private cabin I was going to share with my father and another child my age and another adult my fathers age.  I believe I had a kind of outburst and panic attack.  It took some doing to calm me down.  And I got a present from my father.  

There has been so much talk in the news recently about Dylan Farrow.  Her open letter to her father she sent to the New York Times was so amazing.  The views that society has about child molestation and pedophiles perpetuates the continuation of offenses on children.  It is my belief that in the course of what is being done NOW you Will NEVER slow down or end child sexual abuse. 

There needs to be a completely different way of looking at the problem and addressing it in a more aggressive manor.  The first thing you do is level the "playing field".  Get RID of the Statute Of Limitations!  Pedophiles are Serial Killers Of Childhoods!  

I am re-watching "Now, Voyager" with Betty Davis and I always love the transformation she goes through in her journey of growth and healing from abuse.  I like to think that there are many people who have survived sexual molestation move forward in their own journeys of healing who emerge stronger and proud to have survived.  I am on my own "Now, Voyager" path to healing.  

A Dark Dark Christmas Poem

Twas the night before Christmas and all thro’ the house, 

There was one creature stirring, it wasn’t the mouse;

His stocking was hung in my face with good care,

In hopes that his dickolas would soon be “down there”;

My siblings were nestled all snug in there beds, 

While I gave that damn ass hole some wonderful head, 

And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and my diaper full of crap,

If I did not a good job, “Santa” gave me a slap’

He had just settled into a nice rhythmic fuck, 

I soon had the feeling, I’m fresh out of luck. 

When out in the hall there rose such a clatter, 

My mother came in to see what was the matter. 

Away under the bus I flew in a flash, 

Tossed me under the tire, then made a mad dash. 

The moon on my face with his milky white snow, 

At the corners of my mouth, no suspicion arose?  

When what do my wondering ears they do hear,

A little “white lie” and a suggestion of more beer.

That little old driver, an asshole so quick,

I knew I was stuck with this horrible prick. 

More rapid than eagles his lies when they came, 

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name, 

Now dash here, now dance here, now prance here you vixen, 

On Trusting, on Believing at Once you poor victim.

To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall! 

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As dry heaves from the assault, the wild hurricane did fly, 

When they met with an obstacle, mounted to “that guy”,

So up to the house-top the course that he flew, 

To control all of the aspects of live that was below.

Then to my deep dismay that I saw from this land,

The wanting and yearning of many small hands,

As he held my small head, my head spinning around, 

Down my throat did st. Dick, he had cum with a bound:

Then he dressed and changed my diaper then kissed my small foot,

And his big smile was tainted, that ass hole’s a coot, 

A bundle of lies he had flung on my back:

His eyes how they squinted and dared me to speak,

His cheeks were  were so rosy, the liquor did reek;

His droll little mouth had a nasty smirked smile, 

And the acts he inflicted made me throw up some bile.

The stump of his pipe he held down past my teeth,

And the stroke of his dick held my head in the wreath.

He had a broad face, and a little round belly, 

That shook when he fuck, my face like it’s jelly:

He was controlling and a grump a wright he gave to himself, 

And I cried when I saw him, I had no “myself”,

A squint of his eye and a punch to my head

Soon gave me the knowledge there’s so much to dread.

He spoke not one word, he went to strait to his “work”,

He drained my poor childhood, turned on me; such a jerk.

And laying his middle finger upon me he chose, 

To give the world his warped view and came smelling like a rose. 

He sprung to his family, to his team he gave a whistle, 

And away they all flew, I had to swallow another thistle:

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight;

My sons under the left tire, and to all a a good night. 

Krampus is a sort of anti-Santa, a demon who comes to punish children who misbehave during the year. 

I am using the image here as the anti-Santa who takes childhoods away from children who have not done anything wrong.    

A Call From A Supportive Uncle

I recently got a call from my uncle from the west coast.  He has been with his partner for I think around 40 years!  He is a very educated and successful man and I am very proud of him.  He is semi retired and has done many years of work in the community where he and his partner reside.  He also loves his older sister a great deal and is her enabler.

I recently got a call from my uncle on the west coast.   He asked me if I had heard from my mother and I told him no.  I informed him I had written her and called her and even visited her but there has been no response.  I asked him about his life and we continued the conversation.   He moved back to the issue of if I had heard that my mother had fallen.  I informed him no I had not heard that.  I guess she is just being passive aggressive.  I asked him about the community work he was involved with and the funding his organization has been rewarding persons or other organizations needing funding for projects or art installations.  He responded with information I asked about and again the conversation went back to my mother and "family/relations".  I informed my uncle that I had not bonded with any of the people there as I grew up in more than one unsafe house and that there was safety in each house until my pedophile took that safety away.

My Uncle and his partner (who I have met once years ago) are so really incredible and very supportive of me.  My uncle even sent me a great deal of money to support  the art that seems to be a hobby now but it is what I work for to make it my living.   He also has a deep love and loyalty for his older sister.
I do not believe that he has drawn the parallel to being an enabler.  What happened to "fight your own battles".  What happened to "Work it out for yourselves!".    I did not have the luxury of having much of a relationship to my siblings or parents.  I for the most part think of myself as an orphan.

If there are enough photos of me as an infant and young child, you can see that in every photo I began the tradition of looking at one of my siblings when there was a photo in a group setting.  Often times it was a group photo at my grand parents house in Tilden.   The photos changed after the sexual molestation began.  My life of course was shattered.  I believe have put the majority of the pieces together.

I want to confront my uncle about being an enabler.   I do not believe he would knowingly give liquor to an alcoholic.   He may occasionally have a glass of wine but that's about it.  It concerns me that I do not believe he understands that he is an enabler.  For now I will not confront him.

I was thinking about what I would write or send to my mother since it has been a number of years since I last wrote her.  With the print of the "high horse and ladder" I was going to put a gold sticky star near the middle of the back of the horse and state, "The last I knew, you were here", inside the card I was going to put the same picture of the "high horse with ladder" and put a gold star just to the right of the ladder.  On the inside of the card it would read..."Are you here?"

I do not see the point of writing to people who will not write back to me.

I think I may send a Christmas Card.  We will see.

A Support Group/ Star Trek Voyager Wisdom

Over the years I have searched out support for my survival and I was always looking for some kind of group therapy.

I saw a variety of therapists, some more fitted to my needs than others but I was always interested in joining a group of survivors to see at what point others were with there level of survival.    I joined such a group and have gone to the meetings twice so far.  The first meeting I was very late due to traffic.  30 minutes late.  I sized up the group pretty quickly.  The two moderators are there.

 I feel I did not make a good impression on them as I always challenge at what stage this world has addressed child sexual abuse and if we have been noticing and addressing this issue for [      ]  years........I honestly believe we should be farther along than we are at!

There were 2 monitors and 4 survivors.  There was one man who was for the most part falling asleep.  I feel that he was the least advanced at the acceptance and the dealing with the issues around child sexual abuse and incest.  I was glad the man felt safe enough to find some much needed rest.  He felt safe so his body shut down as it needed sleep.   There were two people who were very engaging.  Eager to voice their opinions with the guidance of the two monitors.  There was one man who spoke sometimes.

I feel I am most likely the farthest along with all the steps I have taken from the time I was 27 years old, when I first began having memories of the abuse.  I am 51 years old now.   That is certainly not a judgment call on the other people in the group.  When I joined this group I certainly want to be a viable
contributing, supporting member of this survivals group.  I am there to applaud and encourage my fellow survivors of the next steps they and I will take to be as fully functional and be part of community as I have encouraged many times.

I truly believe that messages can come to us in many different forms.  We just need to be open to them.

I was watching Star Trek Voyager.  It was really good writing and I took the message for myself and want to pass it along here as I believe it is very relevant.

A crew member had been violated,  the details are not important to this story..........

The therapist in the story told the crew member who was violated that their thoughts were a turbulent ocean.  You need to rise above them.  The therapist went on to say, You must allow yourself sufficient time.  Do Not attempt to deny the emotional impact of your experience.  (I want to extrapolate here to include physical and spiritual experience)  Or the damage it did to every aspect of your existence.

*The survivor states, "How can I worry about my own well being when so may people have suffered and died"  (Here I will state that the ripples of the effects of child sexual abuse and incest run deep and long)

The therapist reiterates, "You are not responsible for their actions!"

The survivor, "With my closest friends and family, how can I go back to my normal life as if nothing ever happened?!?

The therapist replies, "You Can Not!"

The therapist continues, "This experience will force you to adapt.  You are no longer the same person,
and the course of your life will change as a result.  Where that new course leads is up to you.

No Respect For My Father, I Am Not The Bad Guy, I am The Survivor

I have been thinking how my father and I were at cross roads all our lives.

I am understanding and believing a fundamental statement about child sexual abuse, and that is...

Child sexual abuse is not about sex but more about Control.  My birth father is the most controlling person I have ever met.

I was thinking how the rug was pulled out from under me at 3 separate occasions.  I lived in three different houses in my early life.  An upstairs apartment of a duplex.  The downstairs apartment of a duplex and a 3 bedroom house with full basement.  I felt safe in each house when I was first brought to it but when the molestation began I would once again feel unsafe and I just never developed very strong relations with my siblings or my mother.

Each time my father got a better job or a raise or better hours or over time he began to save and we moved to a bigger nicer place.  Each was a promotion and there were celebrations.  Each place was safe for a short time and then he was having me orally serve him.  I was completely disrespectful of my father over and over as these celebrations were happening.  That's what it looked like to the public.  I was the bad guy.  They could not see the violations of my mouth.  It was very traumatic throughout my childhood and often times my entire upper lip would break out with cold sores.  I of course could never remember the abuses as I was sometimes asleep and sometimes I would just burry the experience as I could not deal with it all.  I just did not understand.  These were not what a child could understand.

I recently came upon a gift I got from my father.  It was on a camping trip.  My father and a close friend of his and I and another young person went to a genealogy store and we each got a special gift.  This was on a scouting trip.  I was really dazed the day we went into this store and I barely remember anything other than the bare details of the outline of the weekend.

This is part of my shattered story that I do not believe I will be able to ever remember, unless I go to a hypnotist.   There are some very wise people, therapists mostly, who have said that you only remember
the abuses when you are able to deal with what happened.   You may need to have counseling with a therapist who fits for you.  They help put things into perspective and will hopefully help you "weed your garden" and put the pieces back together.

In many things there may be "triggers" in life that will affect an incest or sexual abuse survivor.  For me the initial trigger was an aggressive stance from a former room mate.  For some reason I have crossed paths with people who want to control me in order to be in my life.  Am I searching these types out?
I was going to buy a tv/vcr set from a former roommate and I chose not to buy it as I could not afford it.
This former room mate stood on a futon bed to get height on me in a very intimidating way and proceeded to start pushing me around and raising their voice.  I began having flashes of the abuse as I could feel heightened emotions from the intimidation from this former room mate.  I must have been feeling this as an infant.  I was 27 when these strong flashbacks and  emotions surfaced.