HAVE A HAPPY THANKSGIVING FULL OF LOVE
November 24, 2009 3:31pm
More Than A Day
As Thanksgiving Day rolls around,It brings up some facts, quite profound.We may think that we're poor,Feel like …
GarrettK
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About Me
GarrettK
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About Me
I'm a bachelor and presently disabled. I've been a teacher, family/child, marriage counselor (private practice), program developer/director, lecturer. I was born severely to profoundly deaf and communicate equally well with the deaf and the hearing. My speech is at par with the hearing due to 9 years of private speech therapy. I am lip-reading dependent but do benefit from bilateral behind the ear hearing aids. I have terminal prostate cancer, had open heart surgery (aortic value replacement), and congestive heart failure. I'm wheelchair dependent from arthritis in the knees and back caused by injuries. I wrote the following essay, Silence is Cancerous, as requested by a woman in Canada for her book "Shadows of Silence: A Book About Abuse." SILENCE IS CANCEROUS I never talked about my abuse until age 60. I was diagnosed with terminal prostate cancer. My physician wanted me to meet with a therapist to help me come to terms with death. During the first session, I was asked what I wanted to set as a goal. I responded with: “I want to meet my maker with a reconciled forgiving heart.” This inevitably led to disclosures of atrocities perpetrated fifty-plus years ago. In a sense, my silence was as a cancer. It stunted my emotional growth and sabotaged relationships with God, myself, and others. My father started sexualizing me at age 4, probably younger. He was gentle with me and I found it exceedingly pleasurable. He sold me to pedophiles that were also gentle; hence, a lie was planted in my thinking: love and sex were one and the same. By age 5, I was exploited in a child prostitution/pornography ring. Born deaf, I was the perfect little boy-whore: I couldn’t tell. There were maybe ten boys and two girls that I remember. I was the youngest and the oldest was around 13/14. Those children were my friends and playmates. Embarrassing as it is to admit, I enjoyed the sexual acts with the other children and adults, posing for pictures and making movies. I was deemed a pretty little boy and was often dressed up as a girl. At one time, I didn’t know if I was a boy, a girl, or somehow both. It was the one area where I could successfully compete for attention with high praise. It all changed in my 7th year. My father began sodomizing me. It hurt. I thought I failed to please him and that I was being punished. Sodomy was added to my prostitution repertoire, shaming me to the core. The movies got dark and sadistic. I was beaten and choked during the making of some flicks. Six older boys, at different times, were snuffed out…cut up on film next to me after we were molested and raped. I freaked; I dissociated! I went to a safe place in my mind, oblivious to the horrors surrounding me. New lies were planted in my thinking and reinforced (by me) throughout my teenage and adult years: my body is not mine; I’m worthless and have no value if I fail to please; I will be hurt if I’m imperfect and disobedient; I’m a nasty- dirty-little-boy-whore, undeserving of love, respect, and protection. I was 8 ½ when I was rescued by a moderately wealthy couple, old enough to be my grandparents, and adopted at age 10. Though life with them was considerately better, the abuse continued. They were not equipped to deal with a disturbed, deaf-mute boy and demanded that I be a perfect little adult. They hired a private speech therapist and in nine years I conquered deafness. By the time I was 15, my lip-reading was exceptional, and my verbal communication was at par with my hearing peers. I excelled in public school and was no longer referred to as the dumb boy. From age 14 on I loved school, my teachers, and feared going home, never knowing if I was going to be debased and beaten. I secretively drank whiskey at bed time from age 9 on to chase the night demons away. I was traumatized by four repetitive nightmares that often made me wet the bed, even in my adult years: a tremendous source of shame. I sometimes had horrific PTSD flashbacks and panic attacks during the day. Unbeknown to my adopted parents, I was molested for half a school term by my male 4th grade teacher and a Catholic priest between the ages of 11 and 16. At 15, I learned from other boys about homosexuality. I was overwhelmed with shame and guilt for liking BJ’s from the priest and tried to hang myself. My adopted father caught me and beat me senseless. After I graduated from a Jesuit University, I was successful in everything I endeavored. My work was my life and the only source of esteem. My personal life, however, was plagued with sexual addiction, alcoholism, intermittent drugs, and self-isolation. Eight women lived with me over the years for short durations and were also sex addicts and alcoholics. I’m now 64 (2009), disabled, four years into therapy, and have developed compassion and love for the foundation of me: the little boy within; and thereby the man. I have discovered my intrinsic worth. I still occasionally have a nightmare or flashback but have learned to simply observe if for what it is, accept it without internal dialogue, without self-judgment and self-condemnation, and let it go. I have learned to live in the moment and have discovered much joy therein. Life is good. (I completed psychotherapy in Sept. '09 a few months after writing this essay.)
I'm a bachelor and presently disabled. I've been a teacher, family/child, marriage counselor (private practice), program developer/director, lecturer. I was born severely to profoundly deaf and communicate equally well with the deaf and the hearing. My speech is at par with the hearing due to 9 years of private speech therapy. I am lip-reading dependent but do benefit from bilateral behind the ear hearing aids. I have terminal prostate cancer, had open heart surgery (aortic value replacement), and
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Interests
Reading, writing, playing 3 handed cut throat hearts, cribbage, partner's pinochle, swimming, fishing. Used to love backpacking but can't do that anymore.
Reading, writing, playing 3 handed cut throat hearts, cribbage, partner's pinochle, swimming, fishing.
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Recent Activity
Recently:
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40 hugs given, 21 hugs received, 15 journal comments, 2 photo comments
Today
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GarrettK wrote a journal entry: HAVE A HAPPY THANKSGIVING FULL OF LOVE 3:31pm
More Than A Day As Thanksgiving Day rolls around,It brings up some facts, quite profound.We may think…
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GarrettK gave angeleyes92 a thanks 2:35pm
Thanks, you and yours have a blessed Thanks Giving, as well.…
Sunday
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GarrettK commented on SurvivorStruggle’s journal entry Dating 3:13pm
Intimacy really doesn't have anything to do with sex, per se. True intimacy is "see" who the other…
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GarrettK gave GoodGod a hug 2:55pm
I'm so glad the worst of it is over. I woke up to two inches or so of snow...grrrrrrrrr! So you're in…
Saturday
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have a happy thanksgiving
Ray of Sunshine
Two inches of snow...sending some sunshine to warm you and melt the snow away.
Thank you for the hug & for your support. Your support always brightens and lightens my way. Have a Great week. ~Knee-
Hug
The allergy infections are almost out the door.
That does not mean my allergy reactions are gone for this time of year.
But, the serious issues are almost gone.
For the rest of me...gosh...
I feel like black and white walking side by side.
Interesting place to be.
I am drifting through it.
I hope the weather is kind to you so you can enjoy a lovely day. 
Hug
My couson went to the school in DC.
I live in Montgomery Al there are graves from 1820 on up to today . John wilks Both's brother was a actor here. The one that killed Lincon. We were the Capital of the Confedericy and a hospital for Atlanta and Shilo. Over 300 unknown solders
in the graves here. We have palets from ww1 and ww2 The Wright brothers tought the army to flight hereand the war of 1812 was close to here .-
Hug
You put a lot of time and effort into your hugs messages.
To just answer one would be a sad state of affairs.
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Close Sexual Abuse
My biological parents exploited me in child prostitution and pornography between the ages of 4 and 8. There was also incest between my father, brother, sister and me. I'm 63 and just started to address this issue three years ago; it's a bit scary, especially in this format.
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