Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Support Group
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I've been a member of this community for a few weeks, but I've never said anything until now. I don't know where to begin, or where to start, so I will just ramble on a bit. If nothing I say makes any sense, or if I haven't said enough, please let me know.
Within the past month I've been diagnosed with having PTSD. I think I've known it for several years but have successfully avoided dealing with it. I cannot continue doing that.
At the age of about three or four, I began being sexually abused by a family member. I was too young to do anything about it, or to really understand what was happening. As I grew older I got the feeling that something was wrong, however, I was still unable to get away because I had a physical disability.
The abuse continued throughout most of my life although not on a daily basis. The older I became, the less it happened.
For almost a year I've been seeing a therapist on a weekly basis for severe depression, anxiety, physical and emotional abuse, and a slew of other things. I have succeeded in keeping the sexual abuse pretty much to myself until the past month or so. Because I had some doubts about whether or not I was really receiving abuse, I asked my therapist what constituted sexual abuse. I then gave her a hypothetical situation, and asked her if that was abuse, and she said yes.
Although I realize what was done to me was not right, I still have feelings of love toward my abuser, who is no longer living. At the same time, I have strong feelings of guilt about what occurred. I've been told that it was not my fault, but it's hard for me to believe that. When I think of it, which is quite frequently, I am filled with an enormous amount of shame and embarrassment.
My therapy is about to end soon -- in two to three months -- and I am told by my therapist that she will not have enough time to help me deal with this trauma. I have been through periods of severe depression with suicidal tendencies. I am afraid of what will happen to me once my therapy ends.
So that's what brings me here today. I don't know if I can be helped, but that's part of why I came here in the first place.
Within the past month I've been diagnosed with having PTSD. I think I've known it for several years but have successfully avoided dealing with it. I cannot continue doing that.
At the age of about three or four, I began being sexually abused by a family member. I was too young to do anything about it, or to really understand what was happening. As I grew older I got the feeling that something was wrong, however, I was still unable to get away because I had a physical disability.
The abuse continued throughout most of my life although not on a daily basis. The older I became, the less it happened.
For almost a year I've been seeing a therapist on a weekly basis for severe depression, anxiety, physical and emotional abuse, and a slew of other things. I have succeeded in keeping the sexual abuse pretty much to myself until the past month or so. Because I had some doubts about whether or not I was really receiving abuse, I asked my therapist what constituted sexual abuse. I then gave her a hypothetical situation, and asked her if that was abuse, and she said yes.
Although I realize what was done to me was not right, I still have feelings of love toward my abuser, who is no longer living. At the same time, I have strong feelings of guilt about what occurred. I've been told that it was not my fault, but it's hard for me to believe that. When I think of it, which is quite frequently, I am filled with an enormous amount of shame and embarrassment.
My therapy is about to end soon -- in two to three months -- and I am told by my therapist that she will not have enough time to help me deal with this trauma. I have been through periods of severe depression with suicidal tendencies. I am afraid of what will happen to me once my therapy ends.
So that's what brings me here today. I don't know if I can be helped, but that's part of why I came here in the first place.
I used to feel that I was contaminated somehow and that just my presence was toxic to others. All lies stemming from the abuse. When those feelings return as they sometimes do, I remind myself that I am a beautiful child of the universe and no one can take that away from me.
You're not alone in feeling that way. That comes from abuse. It helps me to remember that my goal now is to treat myself and others with love and kindness. We are all sacred.
Being in the healthcare profession myself, let me reassure you, that when we are doing baths, etc...we are not paying attention to you being naked...we are just doing our job...we see tons of naked bodies a day...and we don't get turned on by it, there is nothing sexual behind it...
I understand how you feel all exposed laying there naked, maybe there is something you can do to get your mind off of it.
I don't know how disabled you are, but if you are able to do any self-care, then that would be great, and would help build your self-confidence and keep your pride, and privacy also.
You have to learn to be able to receive help, esp since you are disabled and not able to do it all anymore. But, whatever you CAN do, you can try to do...it will help you feel better in the long run.
It is your choice whether you want male or female caregivers, and they should oblige you with your choice.
But, you need to find a company you trust, and quit switching so much, so you can find a rapport and build a trust.
What is it that you truly don't like about them?? Their care, or your insecurities. You are probably going to be insecure until you build a trust level and rapport with them, and by switching all the time, that's not going to happen.
Try to hang in there, and maybe try to do as much as you can yourself, if you can. Like I said, I don't know all of your disabilities, but that could help some of your privacy issues as well.
I have finally switched to one agency, which is where I believe I will remain for the foreseeable future. Everyone helping me at this time is a woman. I no longer have a problem with that. The ones who help me in the evening are extremely good and I feel very comfortable with them. I do not have a good feeling about the morning people at this time, however one of them just started this morning, so that may just take getting used to.
The difficulty I have found in finding a suitable agency has been primarily due to something that happened with someone from another agency in recent years. A male caregiver sexually abused me for about two years. At first, I was so shocked I did not know what to do. I was terrified of what might happen if I told, because this person was very well liked where he worked.
After a couple of weeks, I tried telling this person to stop or that I would report him. He said that no one would believe me since I had not told on him earlier and that I must have liked what was going on because of that.
He was not my primary caregiver, but worked mostly on the weekends. As time went by, he began coming to see me during the weekdays as well. The more often I saw him, the more I became afraid. He threatened to tell my family if I let anyone know what was happening. I did not feel that I could let that happen, so I quickly became his to use in whatever way he chose. He soon started calling me his "sex toy."
There were times when he brought some of his friends with him, and all of them used me in whatever way they wanted. He came either with or without them, and there were times when they came without him. I never knew whether anyone would be coming to see me on any specific day with the exception of my caregiver.
I have carried this secret around ever since the abuse began. My abuser left the area, and his friends stopped seeing me when I switched health care agencies. I am a grown adult and not that small child that I used to be, so I cannot put the responsibility for this on others. I have been inundated with shame and guilt for all these years. This has caused almost daily nightmares and fears that my abusers will return.
The knowledge of what I have gone through, as well as the fact that I did nothing to stop it, has made me feel as if I was a willing participant. It has caused me fear of others and hate towards a lot of men. I hate myself for letting it happen, and there are times when I really want to kill myself.
In many ways, I have received a lot of help and support here at DS. However, I kept this part of my life a secret, and now that it is in the open, I know that I will lose many of those people whom I consider to be friends. I am undecided as to whether I will remain on here. I am also filled with very intense self-loathing and hate. I am confused and do not know where I am going from here. The only thing that I do know for sure is that someday I will burn in the fires of hell forever.
Remember all that shame, self-loathing, etc. are from the abuse. They belong to your abusers. I just have to keep reminding myself of that over and over again. As those feelings just keep rearing their ugly head.
Why would you even think about leaving DS?? Don't leave DS. You have received support here, and that is great!
We are NOT here to judge you, or your abuse. There are other men that have been sexually abused as well.
It's awful that that healthcare aide took advantage of you as a disabled person, and abused you. You did nothing wrong. It was his fault, his shame and guilt. He made you feel vulnerable, and made you try to keep quiet....all the things abusers do...He will be the one to burn in hell...NOT YOU.
You are a SURVIVOR, JimK. You are. You are on your Journey to Heal. It's not easy.
I do NOT foresee you losing any friends here on DS. NONE. Like I said, we are not here to judge you...we are here to support you through your journey to heal.
We have all been through trauma, everyone's varies. I was sexually abused by step-father up until the age of 16. I still think, why didn't I know that was wrong, and let it continue until I was 16?? I can't answer that, b/c I don't remember.
But, I know I am safe now, and I will NOT let it happen again. I won't let him have my Power or Control. It's MINE now.
He holds the shame and guilt for doing that to me. He will be the one to rot and burn in hell. Shame on him.
I'm still your friend, no matter what.
Before picking up where I left off a few months ago, I want to relay something that happened this summer. My sister went back to the east to visit my mother's only remaining brother. While there, she learned that at least two of our mother's brothers also had some peculiar sexual habits. One of them was arrested and charged with indecent exposure. The other used to take his nephews to movies and while there would rub his hand up and down his nephews leg. I did not know whether there was more than that to it because no one would say.
A lot of what happened in my mother's, and her brothers, childhoods seems to be wrapped in a cloak of secrecy. My sister and I feel a lot more happened, but nobody wants to talk about it. I know that my mother used to run and hide under her bed in order to get away from her father. Although there is no proof, my sister and I both feel that our mother was sexually abused by her father. I cannot help but wonder if this had something to do with why she abused me.
My sister and I have had a few chances to talk with one another this summer. She feels that our brother was also sexually abused by our mother, but he steadfastly refuses to talk about his relationship with her. What we do remember is that our brother was in a hurry to get away from home immediately after elementary school.
Although this does not seem to have a direct bearing on the entries in my journal, I do feel that it fills in some of the missing pieces of my puzzle. I would like to think that one day everything would fit together into some semblance of order.
(My next journal entry will pick up with the events that occurred when I left off several months ago.)
That is some insightful news though...and does put some pieces to your puzzle.
SA affects everyone differently, and one would hope if one was SA as a child, one would not carry it to the next generation...but I guess it is quite possible.
I know for me as a Mother, I would NEVER EVER do that to my children. NEVER!
But, everyone is different, and the abuse affects everyone differently, and back then, there probably wasn't treatment like there is today.
I am so sorry this happened to you, but sometimes putting some of the pieces to the puzzles help, sometimes it makes it hurt worse.
I am glad you are picking up in your journal...and I am glad you and your sister had some time to talk.
I wish there wasn't this cloak of secrecy around it...
I have a story/poem for you that fits this topic well...I will message it to you...
The next time that I "visited" them, they saw to it very quickly that I knew they were in command. They took me upstairs to the bedroom, and sat me on a chair. Each of the three men with me removed his clothing and forced me to commit oral sex on him. If I so much as hesitated, I received a slapping. I was okay as long as I pleased them. On the instances when I did not, they would once again put me on my stomach on the bed and hit me repeatedly.
After they were through with me for that time being, they took me downstairs but did not dress me. Each man would take turns holding me on his lap, rubbing and squeezing my genitals. Sometimes they were squeezed too hard and I would cry out in pain. They would laugh and continue doing whatever they wanted with me.
Dinnertime came and they tried something new with me. They tied my hands behind my back. A plate full of food was placed before me and they said I had to eat without the use of my hands. I watched them enjoy their meals, but I could not eat mine. I went to bed hungry that night.
It was still winter and the house was cold. My abusers took turns coming to my darkened bedroom and using my body to please themselves. In addition to the oral sex, I was forced to lick various disgusting parts of their bodies. (To this day, I am still sickened remembering what occurred during those nights.)
The next morning I was taken downstairs still without any clothing. I was placed on my hands and knees on the floor and a plate of food was put in front of me. My hands were tied in such a way that I could not use them. I was made to eat that way. (I vaguely remember having a dog collar place around my neck with a chain attached to it. I think it was their way of trying to make me feel more dehumanized, and it worked.)
These "visits" continued on a regular basis until the summer. At that time, I was scheduled to have some surgery, which meant I was in for a temporary reprieve. I hoped it would be for good, but that was not the case. Little did I know that I was going to be repeatedly abused for a number of years.
How do you feel getting more of your story out of your head and on 'Paper?'
I'm glad you are here!! ;)
I was not a willing participant to the abuse that was inflicted upon me when I was a child. There was no way for me to escape this. It started with a family member. Because of her true motherly love, combined with a mental illness, I am able to forgive her. I cannot say the same for those perverts outside of my family.
The older I became, the more easily I gave in to the demands of my abusers. Looking back on it, I now realize that there finally came a time when I was no longer "forced" to give in to my abusers. I willingly did whatever they wanted me to do, and let them do what they wanted with me. It now seems to me that I was not exactly a victim, but a willing participant.
I can now see that my role changed throughout the years. Although I have never abused someone else, I finally let a number of people have their way with me while I hardly gave it a second thought. In my mind, it came to be a way of life. I could not get away from it, so at some time I quit fighting and gave in.
As I look back, it seems to me that there was a point at which I actually looked forward to the abuse I was about to receive. I was no longer exactly a victim, but I cannot think of a term for what I had become.
Someone has asked me how I feel now that I am getting this out of my mind and onto paper. I feel some relief along with a mixture of loathing and self-hate. I do not like what I have been put through, yet I cannot change the past. I hate myself for what others did to me as well as for going along with them and eventually enjoying the same perversions that I had been put through.
I am filled with shame and embarrassment. It is for these reasons that I can honestly say I hate myself.