Steps to Recovery of Incest

There are many different theories about the process of recovery of incest and child sexual abuse.
This is one that I thought was very clear and it works for me.  There are still steps that I need to work through.  I may need to step back and go through a step I thought I was through or go to a deeper level of understanding to go on to the next level.  That is what I have placed before myself.  I believe in setting goals but have the realization that the real healing process takes time.  If you are a survivor as well please check out this site.  If it does not work for you, By All Means Keep Looking For Something or Someone who Can Help!  It is Important to Take the Steps.

Copy and paste this addy below.  I am not tech savvy to have you just click ON it.  Sorry.  It is a very good site with a great deal of Healing Advice.  

http://www.womensweb.ca/violence/incest/recovery.php

Letter To Family Priest [a work in progress]

I am writing you in a time of dire need for my family.  Over the years I have done 15 years of public speaking about my survival of child sexual abuse and incest.  I have tried for over 20 years of speaking with my family about my survival to no avail and in the last 3.5 years I have blogged and most recently I have a Facebook page.

As you can see I am doing my part about Addressing Child Sexual Abuse.

I am sure you are aware of the difficulties that many churches are dealing with in our fight to prevent and address the needs of the survivors of child sexual abuse as well as the unfortunate men who are attracted to infants and children in a controlling sexual way.  As it stands now, for some reason I have found that the majority of support and empathy somehow comes to land in the lap of the predator or child molester.

Coming from the stand point of the survivor I thing it might be just so much more easy to
toss the survivor under the bus as has happened with me.  That is unfortunate but I have grown much more spiritual as a result so I do look at the bright side of things!

The reason I am writing to you in this time of family crisis is that after 20 years I really do need to tell my story and come out as a child sexual abuse survivor.  It is a logical step in my healing and recovery and with my knowledge and insight about new ways to address this issue I am sure that We will make great strides in combatting this epidemic.  I am giving my family every opportunity to join in this discussion about family health and I am asking you to join in as well.  I am sure that we can all agree that this Is an epidemic and we are all concerned or we all should be seeing that I am a survivor of incest from the [___________] family.  After so many years of showing and having respect and family loyalties to the [__________] family I think it is time for my family to show me as much respect and loyalty that I have shown them.  That is only fair.

*A work in progress.  I am thinking it might even be a template for others to do a Group Coming Out.
There would be portions of the script that other survivors would change to suit what they have done for the cause or personal struggles that you have survived that some may have witnessed that would be relevant to you….but use as much text as you would like.  Once I have the full text clarified I will do a boost on Facebook.

I do appreciate anyone checking in and please contact me if you want to share your story of survival or if you want to brainstorm about how to address these issues or if you need a shoulder.

Please Take Care.

Strength in Numbers? / What's The Matter, Pedophile Got Your Tongue?

We have all heard it said many times before.  There is strength in numbers.

I have my doubts.  

In many ways, many who have been beaten down and conditioned due to age, gender, sexual orientation, color etc., often do not have the strength, power or knowledge to stand up for themselves.

Many do not come forward because they fear the reaction by friends and family.  Will they be supported?  Will they be rejected?  Will they have friends or family after they confront the abuse?  

The matriarch of my paternal family is a woman who I know was sexually molested.  She joined the convent when she was 8.  This was many years ago and times were different.  So……first off I think while she said she had a calling, I believe she had a means of escape.  Her older sister had a true calling even though she was only 9 years old.  The older sister was a nun for I believe around 70 years until her death due to cancer.  The younger sister was a nun for 20 years.  She left and was a revered teacher for many years.  I once visited her when I was 16 years old or so.  I stayed for a long weekend.  She had a very nice stereo system and I changed the station to what was the same music but it was with vocals. It was the music of Frank Sinatra and that era.  Same music but my aunt would only listen to the instrumentals.   I was camped out in her spare room of her condo and she came in and seemed quite agitated.   She asked me if I could change the music back to what she had before.  I said I would and that was the end of that.  When I first began having memories of her brother being my pedophile she refused to speak about it.  NEVER.  Direct questions, answers to something I did not ask.  Brick Wall. 

From what little I have witnesses I am sure that she was a survivor before me.  But……..A pedophiles got her tongue.  There is just no speaking with people who refuse to speak with me.  She silenced her music and she silenced herself.  She is now 81 years old.  

There has been a long silence from my family in retaliation to my having to step back when I had no support in a volunteer project I was involved in.  Unfortunately the project lasted 20 years.  While it was sad that there was that long a separation from my mother, since I did not bond with her due to the molestation of my pedophile, I have for the last 5 years tried to reconnect with my "mother".  I call her by her first name as I did not bond with her.  She will not call me by a nickname she gave me or my new chosen name.  Bones of contention.  Basic respect is what I ask for.  Jumping through hoops is what is seemingly expected.  And of course I can not jump through the hoops when they are not presented to me.  

A friend of mine told me about an attack in Loring Park, MN many years ago.  It was an attack on gay men with baseball bats.  The two who had bats where greatly outnumbered but the gay men all ran away and did not try to defend themselves.  Had they been beaten down verbally, or physically before? 

Did they not have the means or support in the past?  

We have come a long way in some places and we need to come a lot farther in others.  

The numbers of child sexual abuse cases / incest survivors is staggering.   The number of people involved in the websites dealing with this epidemic seems to be a fairly high number but the people really speaking out about this epidemic is relatively small.  

I have tried to speak with my "family" for over 20 years about what I have survived and what was and most likely is still a part of the paternal side of my family and the next logical step is to come out.  

I will give them every opportunity to show their family support to me or I see no reason to continue to show them my family support to and for them.  

Tick Tock.

I will inform all parties (all family members) of my intention for family health and invite them to join in the discussion.   Would you join in a family discussion about sexual abuse in your family?!?

JUDGE NOT LEST YE BE JUDGED!

*Whats The Matter?  Pedophile Got Your Tongue?!?   

HGTV Analogy

I watch a great deal of HGTV.  The Property Brothers and Income Property are two of the favorites.

When these brothers find and restore a house to make it a Home they have to investigate the foundation, check the plumbing, the electrical works, Take Down Walls…….The list is sometimes a complete Gut Job.

When someone is finding out who they really are during the healing process after the realization and the acceptance of incest and child sexual abuse they have to do much the same thing.   A person has to find out about their foundation, their physical and mental health…how they are wired, they have to Take Down Walls…..

Many years ago I was renting a basement one bedroom apartment.  It was in an old building with great woodwork tall ceilings and a nice galley kitchen.   The bathroom floor was rotting away and the tiles were coming up.  I asked the building engineer to take a look at it and please do something about it.
He took a look and said, "I'll take up the loose tiles and put a rug down.  I protested and explained the rotting floor is still going to be there and needed to be addressed.  He brought in some people who took the floor away down to the dirt and some very large square beams the building was built on.  He replaced all the wood and it had a safe foundation and was dry once again.

The point is; you can't just gloss over a problem.  You have to address it head on.  I am doing the right thing by moving on from people who just want to gloss over and pretend nothing happened.

It's almost as if the building could be "The Family" and we are all interconnected and if you rip away parts of that house the entire family will feel the pain.  I have already gone through most of the most difficult pain while experiencing the molestation and when I was experiencing that my "Family" was experiencing a great deal of frustration.  Now I am feeling the frustration and the Family refuses to go through the pain and growth part by refusing any and all attempts I make to be a part of the group.   And refusing to believe anything happened at all.  Passive Aggressive is not an adult way to respond to incest and child sexual abuse.

It will hurt but the healthiest way to address the ever growing Cancer known as Incest and Child Sexual Abuse is to work on the foundation and repair all the things broken that are not seen.

DARK HUMOR - Twas The Night Before Christmas (Santa Was A Pedophile)

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 such dare,

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 straight 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. 

It is near the Holiday Season and I thought I would repost this.  Such dark humor.  Sorry if you are offended but this type

of dark humor helps me get through life.  Who else but a survivor of darkness could write such horrible things?!?  ;-)

Focus Away From The Poisoned Houses and Places of Molestation

I have been thinking about how the houses I grew up in were basically poison.

                                                 
This is not the house I grew up in.  This house is in the neighborhood I live in now.  It looks exactly like the house I was in the longest in my childhood.  The houses I grew up in were what I call the scenes of the crimes.  For some reason my father was attracted to infants and children so each house I lived in started out very nicely but quickly turned bad for me when I was molested in each house.  My parents and more so my mother had many places that I and my siblings would go to over the years.  There were many wedding dances, church picnics, parks and lakes and water-skiing, and camping and family gatherings.  There were very large gatherings at Christmas time and from any persons point of view if you saw all that was presented to me and my siblings you would think that we had it made!  Such generosity of activities and many sacrifices to make all that happen!  Some of us had it made but I was not one of those lucky ones.  The main foundation of your life is where you live.  If you have been violated in a building and forced to live in the place of many violations, that crushes you.  You really do not form a bond with siblings and certainly not your parents as one is violating you and the other trusts her husband explicitly!

At least I have those memories and snippets of relaxation so I try to focus on that part of my past memories.  I have to move beyond the major stresses that living in poisoned houses left me with and focus on the memories away from the poisoned houses.

A Letter To My Mother, From File # 13

Dear Eileen,

I remember the day I lost you, for the 3rd time.  I was only around 2.5 years old.  The memory is that we would sometimes take a little afternoon nap.  We would curl up and fall fast asleep and when I woke up you were gone after having put me down for my nap in a most loving way.  I felt your love so many times up until the time your husband began putting his dick in my mouth.

And the next time you wanted to lay down with me I got up and began to cry as I walked away very confused as to why it didn't feel the same and the only reason why is that, Now the house was unsafe and you were not to be trusted as you trusted and went along with almost everything your husband wanted and demanded.

But wait theres more!  This was the 3rd house we all lived in and some form of molestation happened in each house.   He pulled the rug out from under me so many times.  He had everyone eating out of the palm of his hands and doing the "Molly Coddle" thing.  And while sometimes I have felt great pain and anger at this I mostly feel really sad for you.  The only thing I asked of him was honesty with me.  Just tell me what happened to you and lets address this issue of child sexual abuse and incest in the
____________ Family.  And now he is playing the poor damaged disrespected father.

And the Academy Award goes to…….

I know all of the emotions that you have gone through with not having me around.  I know because I experienced all of those same emotions when my safety was taken away from me for the 3rd time at the age of 2.5 years old.  And when I was gang raped and had a near death experience at age 4 years old while receiving the parting gift of oral gonorrhea….well lets just say…that didn't help!

In order to be a part of your life it seems I have to publicly profess to having a mental impairment.  The other option is that we sit down with some trained therapists to discuss and address the real issues…Not the ones you have made up.

At some point we all take responsibility of who we are and where we are in life.  I believe I have done that.  I wish you well on your journey of self accountability.  I wish the same for your husband, my molester.

Lets just Sign Me,

File #13

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.

A Letter To My Mother (A Letter Not Sent)

Dear ******, 

Uncle Joe called me awhile back and we had a nice chat.  In that chat he told me you had fallen.  I am sure that can be scary and I hope you are OK.  

I do not know how many more letters I will write if I do not hear from you or others in Wisconsin.  

I do not fore see me begging you to come back into my life for the simple pleasure of editing out 99% of it.  

If this (lack of a relationship/passive aggressiveness) continues as it has I want to tell you the I remember many nice things  you did for me.  I know you have been very kind to me but many times those kindnesses did not bring emotions as my emotions were for the most part shut down due to trauma.  

It saddens me that you are caught in the residual effects of all that I have chosen to experience in this lifetime.  

I am sorry that you blame me for your pain and that you think that I broke your heart. 

My heart was broken long before yours and it was brushed aside and deemed that I had  mental impairment, that “I was thinking wrong”.  I do not have mental impairment and I was Never thinking wrong.    I have survival skills. 

There was emotional damage for the many times that "Thinking Wrong" was drummed into my head.  

One thing I am grateful to you is that you taught me to have empathy for the people who "Don't get it".  Unfortunately you are the one I have empathy for as you are that person.   I do not mean that in any derogatory way......it's just the way it is. 
You have a mind set and you will not budge as to what you believe.  I can not change that.  You continue to lay down the law and end the conversation.  I am sad you will not take the most adult approach and meet me half way.  On equal terms.   I love you.   



(a letter not finished, a letter not sent)   

Family Photo With Mother Under Drape

I know nothing about this photo other then that someone collected a series of these type of pictures. They were called "Hidden Mothers". I got to thinking, what if she is someone who just wanted to disappear? This is a common trait with people who have been sexually molested. If that is the case, what happened to the children in the picture? Did the family tradition continue?