I feel odd posting an introductory message on here, but we’ll see what happens. Before I get into my story, let me say what I am doing here. Over the last couple of months I have done a lot of self reflection about my life, specifically about missed opportunities and relationships that could have been. Where I am at now with all this is that I am considering writing an autobiographical book about my experience and how it changed me and my future. The intent is so that people who have gone through abuse may possibly find it, read it, and hopefully recognize it as a warning on how not to respond so that they can get help psychologically, relationship-wise, and also spiritually sooner rather than suffering for multiple decades like myself. Since I have only known one other person in my life that has told me they had any degree of abuse, I thought you all would be the appropriate “experts” on the topic to share with me whether you think my idea has any merit. I put “experts” in quotes because none of us want to be experts in feeling worthless. Anyway, like I said, I feel odd about posting this partly because I was only, well, wounded one time for several minutes, but it was enough.
When I was a child there were a few other boys that were around my age. We played together with GI Joe, transformers, and that kind of thing. We also played video games as was typical. Nintendo, Atari 2600, etc. I am a child of the 80’s.
//BAD STUFF COMES NEXT//
I don’t have the exact date, but I have always thought of it as happening when I was seven. When I was seven I had the weirdest dream of my life. I was in a dark room, I couldn’t see anything, but I knew one of my friends was in the room with me. Nothing was happening at all, I just knew he was there. Right before the dream ended, he touched me, and I woke up with a shock (I knew which friend it was in the dream). Over the coming days and weeks I remembered the dream, but my concern over it subsided. That was sadly a mistake. After about a month one of my siblings and I were playing with the friend as normal. We played in the kitchen, then in the living room. After that us three went downstairs and were talking in the garage area.
There was a door exiting the house at the bottom of my stairs. My friend wanted us to go to a particular room further into the garage. My sibling decided to leave and left through that door to go home. I trusted my friend. I did not leave with my sibling. I could give more details of what followed, but I will spare you most of it. We did go into the other room, and for whatever reasons I did pretty much whatever my friend asked. The thing that killed me for years was he asked me to turn off the light in the room, and I did. He asked me to get on the floor, and I did.
After a few minutes of feeling like a zombie and feeling disgusting on that awful floor, I got him off me, put my pants back on, went to the door, and turned the light back on. He asked me to turn the light back off, etc, but I did not. I walked home across the grassy yard (his house was just 2 houses down) with very simple series of thoughts in my head.
//EXPLICITLY BAD STUFF OVER//
When I got home I opened the front door, and walked up to my dad. In the original layout of the kitchen, the refrigerator swung open to block the opening from the initial hallway into the kitchen. My dad had the refrigerator door open and was on the other side looking for something to eat. I Stood next to the door motionless. I may have said a few sentences, but nothing of consequence. I stared at him and the door, trying to figure out what to do. I considered saying something to him for minutes, but the words never came. I did not tell him what my friend did. Maybe I will tell him tomorrow. I went to bed and tried to sleep. Tomorrow turned into 18 years.
I did not tell a soul until I was 25. It was terrible. How I responded to what happened has impacted me in so many ways, I almost cannot believe it. A realization of the significant impact has come to me before, but has been particularly strong in the last two months or so. That is the impetus of why I am considering writing the book. Some of the impacts in my life include:
Almost never going to a friend’s house through all of 16 years of school.
Limited desire to learn new skills until I was in college.
Lack of motivation to eat healthy food as a kid.
When people mentioned me or I became a topic of discussion, I just wanted to melt into the floor.
It was extremely difficult for me to look at someone in the eyes.
Almost never keeping in touch with friends through school.
Responded to puberty by eating lots of junk to be unattractive.
If I ever considered speaking of the event to someone my body would begin to shake significantly and my voice would become weak etc.
Between the ages of 16 and 25 I dated only one girl, even though I know of at least half a dozen that liked me. I would practically become mute, or just get up and walk away from the person that wanted me to ask them out.
Of course I would want to be with someone, but I had an incredibly terrible dread of sex when I could actually date someone.
Again, now, I am 37. I am amazed that I am actually married. My wife knows about my past. The two friends from HS I still have both know the basic details of what happened to me. My parents and siblings learned what happened when I was 25. About 3 other people beyond the immediate family and HS friends know about it. I finally got counseling when I was 26 (after I told my family). At the risk of repeating myself, I want to help the 7 year-old me that was terrified all those years ago. There has gotta be 10, 16, 22 year olds that haven’t told anyone and have the constant fear of someone finding out.
Based on what I have written above, do you you think sharing my story could help others from being so broken for so long?
Before I forget though, hi again, and thanks for reading. I have been looking at the forum for the last week and it seems that you all are trying to help and support each other. That is cool, I will see about trying to help too if I can.
Thank you,
A Light Is On Now
(I can go by “Lion” for short as well. It is easier to type
.)
