My Recovery

 "Our confusion about what has happened to us, and what it means to our developing identities can be significant and mistaken for what is our own sexuality apart from the abuse. This can become tragically interwoven into our sense of which we are.

We can find ourselves integrating the confusion from our abuse into our developing sexualities in a number of ways. Memories or situations that resemble the circumstances of our own abuse can arouse us. We can imitate or repeat the behaviors we've learned from their being visited upon us. We can subject ourselves to repeated humiliation in sexual encounters parallel to the abuse itself, or find ourselves engaged in promiscuity or the reverse, a fearful abstinence from sex. It's important that we learn that we are not the same people as our perpetrator(s) and they are not us, even though their imprint on our lives can confuse and complicate our own sexuality's a great deal. Healing requires that we know and feel this distinction in the depths of our souls."

The choice in regards to our healing is relatively simple. We take power over it or we continue to allow it to take power over us. This sounds simple but can take some survivors a lifetime. Others will never master it. Some will take a quicker way and commit suicide.

Healing from childhood sexual abuse begins with telling the secrets, breaking the silence, finally, giving voice to our private horror. It goes on for a lifetime, expanding and deepening each time we tell our stories, discover a new memory, giving witness to another who struggles to emerge from denial or amnesia. But it begins with telling the secrets.

The secrets can kill you. I still at times wish I could turn back the clock and bury it all again. To tell is not easy and not without pain. There are times when I will still drink to ease the pain from destroying me.

 My healing started the day I admitted my own abuse. I was sitting in a cold concrete cell when the lawyer entered and asked me why I was in trouble again. It came out like a dam, suddenly bursting years of secrets, years of forgotten, buried memories. It is said that hurt people, hurt people. That was so true in my life. I had started to hurt others; I had started to become what the past did to me. What was worse, I had not realized what I was doing,was hurting others. To recognize that, would have meant I had to acknowledge my own abuse and my mind would not let me remember yet.

" When we swim in a culture, it shapes us without telling us. When we come into contact with those outside, we see where we are. But inside, we are moving at a speed that affects our ability to get our bearings."

Another important event happened to me in jail. Two days after admitting my abuse a man from the Salvation Army came to visit me. We talked about a lot of things, but most important was my relationship with God. I had certainly messed up my life and knew I needed help. In that dimly lit room I asked Christ into my life.No there were no fireworks, no bells, but there was a peace felt. Even though I knew I still had to face court, and more jail, I also knew I had some help now.

I started reading a lot of books about abuse. One of the first books I read was from Josh McDowell called "Building your Self Image". It was not about abuse directly but was a result of the years of abuse. On page 53 he lists 32 results of a poor self- image. I scored 31 out of the 32. This book was the beginning of my healing; it led to me to a desire to learn more. Other books like Beginning to Heal, Speaking our Truth, Repressed Memories led me further on in my search of the truth. The lies I had been taught my whole life, and had relied on, had to change. I once took a belief test in an Anger Management class and scored worse than a crack head sitting next to me. That shook me up so badly that it was two weeks before I went back to the class. Any shred of self worth that my upper middle class life had, just died that day.

I started searching for help within my small community. I call upon a Pastor at the local Church who was known for going through a rough time in his own life(ex-biker) and overcoming it. Soon I was meeting with him regularly and volunteering cutting the grass and painting the Church. In his counseling we talked about everything. He learned about my abuse, my thoughts, almost everything in my life. I was trying to become transparent so I was accountable to someone who could correct me when I was wrong. I remember one day sitting they're talking about a difficult time in my life when I noticed he had fallen asleep. Maybe looking back that should have been a clue to leave for good.

Pastors are busy people and in the goodness of his heart he passed me off to an Elder of the Church who introduced me to a former Church counselor. This is when bad went to worse. It started off as normal as any session should, it took several weeks to get aquainted and for me to feel comfortable talking about the abuse to him. To be sure I trusted him he showed me all his credentials, and they were very impressive. The trust was coming quickly and it felt good. We would start our sessions with prayer, and ask God to lead us. The Bible says you know a Christian by the Fruits of his life.

One day Barry (remember Barry from my Story page) called me in distress and asked my to come right over to his office. Barry had drastically changed, he brought out the pornography, showed me the pictures of his girlfriend a stripper. Barry then went to work on me. He went and did things sexually to me that I had gone to him for help with. I left his place in a daze that day.I got part way down the road and puked. Barry my counselor had become Barry my abuser. It hit me about 8 hours later that evening. My anger was boiling by that time. I am still not sure if I was angry with him for what he did, or angry with myself for letting it happen.

It was at this time, I started searching other places for healing. I had attended an Exodus conference in the fall, and was introduced to a group called New Directions. New Directions is mainly for people with same sex attraction, wanting to leave that lifestyle. What I realized was that I was suffering with similar attractions, even though I failed to recognize what they were. I also knew that maybe the only people who could help me were the counselors at New Direction.

 My first session went well, and the next and so on. What we did was talk about my family and my relationship with them instead of my problems. But I guess that is where our problems come from. Sometimes we are so caught up in our lives its is hard to step outside and look in again. At times our value system is so distorted that we objectively are unable to see right from wrong. At other times there is no right and wrong, only a lot of gray. New Directions has let me look at my life and surrounding events in a different light. I have learned what people say and do is only perceived in my eyes the way I was taught. It was my distorted slant on life.

My anger, my distorted view, my distrust of people will improve in time. I have found some good role models. But I must always be aware that we are human and even role models fail once in a while. There is a slogan I was taught by my friend Brian. It is "WWJD" or what would Jesus do. I try to ask myself that question every time I need some advise or encounter a situation I am not sure of.

I have started working again this past week after being off for some time. The hours are long, about 80 hrs a week, but it feels good to be accomplishing something positive again. I can thank Veronica at New Directions for that. She showed me the strength to start again, to regain self worth in ones life.

I was asked to go to Vermont this fall and take a course called Living Waters to bring back to my hometown. Many reading my story may find this program helpful. Living Waters has been developed as a healing program for those struggling with relation or sexual addiction, sexual abuse, and emotional brokenness. Christ's capacity to touch and restore us at deep levels of brokenness and shame applies to all of us, regardless of the exact type of problem.

I have noticed something recently, something I have never done before.I seem to have a lot of tears, I watch a sad TV show and I have tears in my eyes. I read someones page on the internet about abuse and I cry. I took a friend to the food bank last week, saw all the people waiting and I hurt inside.

I met a young friend last week, we talked and he told me his older brother had abused him when they were younger. I wanted to hug him and tell him it would be ok, but it won't. I wanted to talk to his brother and hug him as well and tell him things would work out. I felt anger only for our legal system, and our lousy support system.If the younger brother was to seek professional support, his counselor would have to call the police.That would only destroy a family. A family that has already gone through hell. The system only looks at right and wrong, there is no room for gray.

I need to look at others to see my own healing. I need to feel my heart again. If we feel our heart, if we really love others and understand what they feel. If our heart breaks when we hear of abuse, and we can still show love and concern towards the abused and the abuser then maybe I am learning the the words " what would Jesus do".

This may sound like I am getting my act together. I hope so, but there are still weeks of depression, still days that I wish I could forget it all, or even days I wish it would all end. I write this page in spurts. I go until my mind tells me to stop and take a breather, a sort of mental safety time out and this is that time for now.

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 Please E-mail me and if you want to tell other survivors there is hope please sign my book  

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