For some time now, most of you have seen a series of actions from me that don’t really make a lot of sense. This entry is an explanation of what is happening.
It’s taken some time to wrap my head around exactly what is happening, but after a breakdown yesterday and some realizations we now understand that it’s a pretty serious case of depression. Unfotunatley, I can’t afford to go talk to someone so I have to try and work through this all on my own.
There is a lot of ground to cover and I plan on airing it all out in several parts as to not create one long post, because I need people to understand and I need to understand what is going on. Writing it out seems to help a lot, so instead of locking it away and not explaining anything, I have decided to write about it and hopefully my working through this can serve to help others. Maybe someone might read this and be able to help me. During the stressful time when mom had her accident and was in the hospital, Guy Williams called me every day and made sure I was ok, he said he thought I should share what is going on in my head to help get it out of me and maybe help others. Guy, I apologize for not taking your advice sooner.
This problem stems all the way back to my childhood. In fact I believe that’s where the bulk of it comes from. If you stick with me, all of this will make sense. Especially to those who have been shoved out of my life. If they even still give a shit. So enough preamble.
My biological father was a bastard, actually that’s not healthy for me to say so let’s just say he was a man who obviously had problems. He was (according to my mother) kind of an ass before I was born, but it seems after my birth is when things ramped up to scary and unacceptable levels.
I was born at Annapolis Hospital on August 11th, 1982 at 11:57pm. I was 8 pounds 7 ounces and one of the cutest baby boys ever born. I have the certificate from a contest I one to prove it. My father wanted a daughter, it’s why my real name is what it is. He wasn’t happy that I came out a boy, in fact he down right hated me for it and decided to show it through actions no father should EVER take against a child. From birth til the age of four I was subjected to physical, psychological and sexual abuse.
Two instances that stick out are once, while at preschool I was reprimanded for getting out of my seat and standing on my chair by the teacher. She sent a note home and my father was who read the note. His solution? Beat the hell out of my tiny body and then make me jump from his bed, to the floor and then up to a chair and back again….Wearing nothing but underwear. He did most of his stuff while my mother was at work. The other instance that stand out is when a plant in our living room dropped a leaf, he exploded at me screaming about how he had told me to never touch the plant and that I must be a fucking idiot as to not be able to follow instructions. He beat me black and blue for it and yelled the whole time.
Thankfully none of the sexual abuse rings clear in my head, most of it just lingers in the corners of my subconscious and only crops up at night when I sleep. Yes I have nightmares every night and have since I was a child. The haven’t stopped at all in 15 years. Liz has told me of many times throughout our marriage where I have woken up crying, screaming or just covered in sweat and shaking. Which really confused her in the beginning because I didn’t disclose everything……I’ll explain why in a few.
The nightmares are rough, more so then a regular nightmare. I am often a child again and forced into doing things no child should ever do. A large shadowy hulking figure forcing me to perform cruel and sadistic actions while laughing and joking about it the whole way. It some dreams I am being physically beaten in the process as if there were two or three aggressors. I feel everything in my dreams, in fact I often wonder if it’s why I wake up in pain and can’t figure out why. It’s hard to escape the dreams because in them I understand only as a child might. There is no self defense or fighting back when you’re a 4 year old kid scared for his life. It’s one of the single most terrifying things anyone could face and I deal with it on a nightly basis.
My mother left my father in the middle of the night one autumn evening. She packed me and some essentials and we slipped out into the night. Granted we walked two houses down to my grandparents house, but an escape was made none the less. She had known about SOME of what was happening, but not all of it and the only reason she really knew was that my grandparents had found black welts all over my little body while changing me. My grandmother has told me the story MANY times, how she screamed in horror, my grandfather came running and they both cried together before my grandfather set off to give my father a stern talking to. You see, grandma and grandpa had a rule. They don’t get involved in their kid’s lives. It’s their lives and grandma and grandpa saw it as it wasn’t their place to interfere. Sometimes I was they had interfered more, but hey what can we do right?
When my mother left my father, she was sad and unhappy. Mostly lonely I think, so after a month of being alone she ended up hanging out with and then dating one of my father’s “friends”. This man eventually became my step father. They quickly married (within a year) and I was thrust into a new world with some familiar behaviors. The damage had been done and I was a violent and angry kid. I lashed out all the time and wanted to fight the world. I was a small child dealing with very adult type problems and nobody knew exactly what was wrong because I was terrified of adults when it came to talking about things. I figured I’d get in trouble for talking about it, since it seemed whenever and grown got told something about another grown up, they’d just have to go tell/investigate what was said.
I was bounced between two homes, my mother & step father’s place and my father and step mother’s house. Neither were great environments for a damaged kid. The only time my father cared about me was when he could be an annoyance to my mother, I was used a lot it felt as nothing more than leverage. He’d come pick me up, I’d fight like hell not to go and still be forced into going. Then, once at my father’s house I would be ignored for the most part unless he wanted a punching bag. Then I was his favorite thing in the world. He always managed to not leave marks. I remember his wife being intent on getting him to do it in a fashion where they wouldn’t get in trouble AND should any bruises appear they were quick to craft a “boys will be boys” story to explain it away.
Then we get to the primary house, my mother was an emotional wreck most of the time which meant I was left in the care of my step father. Who was a mental and emotional type abuser. Both primary male figures in my life constantly talked down to me and made me feel worthless. My real father, and this is something that was echoed by my step father too, would often tell me I would never amount to anything, that nobody would EVER love me and that my life was doomed to fail at every turn. I was a piece of shit nobody wanted.
Also, my step father was more concerned with his electronics and hobbies than he was with a problematic child, and an unstable wife. He even told me a few years ago, that I should be lucky he stayed and put up with me for the sake of my mother. That he should have left our asses a long time ago. You see he too was in a very dark place and wouldn’t talk about it or admit it. He just withdrew further and further from his wife and everyone around him. I think he hated himself more than we ever could.
I think that’s a good place to stop for now. The latter entries will explain what I am going through now, I just need to give back story to show how I got here. I also removed the ability to comment, if you’d like to say anything about what you have read you’ll have to contact me directly via email (email@example.com)