A SADNESS THAT WILL NEVER BE CONSOLED

I feel sad. I also feel humiliated. Most of the people who attended our wedding no longer have anything to do with us. I chose those 24 people because I thought they were special and I wanted them to share our special day. As it turns out I was wrong.

My personality has not changed. My disabilities have got worse. My life started with me being abandoned and it certainly is looking like it is going to end that way too. I have two long-term close friends and it is very unlikely that I will see either of them again though of course we talk on the phone. I have one lovely friend where we live. One really special person in 16 years. But we are very close in age.

Yes I fear being alone being surrounded when my time comes by those who are paid to be there.

Two of the people that hurt me deeply because I never in 1 million years would have thought they would have deserted me at my time of most need. They did. One of them when I asked why she hadn't been round at least was upfront and said I have enough negativity in my life without dealing with yours. Now this was somebody who on a regular basis and come to my house to unburden herself, have a cry and a cuddle and a coffee. I supported her through some truly dreadful things that happened but I never once turned her away no matter how much pain or fatigued I was. this was over 16 years and the first time I needed her that was it. The other friend didn't have the courage to tell me why she had distanced herself from me but eventually she did and it was because of my disease.

The others have given no explanation at all. They have just gone.

I have heard other people who have debilitating diseases that slowly get worse and never better, lose the majority of their so-called friends.

You may indeed wonder why I am making such a big deal about this. It is because it feeds into my deepest fear which is to find myself powerless and institutionalised again. No matter how well people think a particular home is run there will always be abuse and neglect. I will not allow myself to become powerless like that again.

I really do not know why these feelings have come up today. Hazel and Anna came to clean and they are lovely and we have a good laugh. Thy paid me a really nice compliment. I was one of the few clients who treated them as equals and used their names.

Something must have triggered it off but I do not know what. Sometimes when John is not here I feel the feeling so dark I just cannot put into words. At least I know he is home on Thursday but what if he was never coming home? I felt this feeling first when I was stranded in Stockholm. I was in agony and I was frightened. This was in 2004 before I had been diagnosed. I wanted and missed John so badly it terrified me and I thought then that I might one day feel this but very much worse.

However, getting back to my original subject. I really am a lousy chooser of friends. I do feel angry and I feel bitter. One thing though that I have learned is that when a female becomes friends with me very quickly and is almost coyish, says I am like the brother they never had, and consistently tells me how lovely I am I know now that this will end badly. They will withdraw, sometimes turn very nasty, and leave me feeling hurt and bewildered.

Most of all, I feel humiliated. How could I have chosen such cruel friends? Why did I not see it?

The one person other than John their lives here and sees me regularly I know is not like any of the people I have been describing. She is genuine and would not think of hurting me. I have never met a person like her.

You know PTSD, survivor guilt, the parts of us that will always be stuck at a very young, toddler age, 5-6, puberty etc. It really depends on when the abuse takes place. With me it was daily all through my life. I am forever a child in a man's body. I am forever vulnerable to those who see it and take advantage of it.

On the positive side there are those who see me as a damaged child and they treat me with such love care it is astonishing. It took me a while to see thay were and then longer to accept it. But they are there. You wouldn't believe how much the people at Tesco feed my soul, nurture me. Even on holiday people will come up to me just to be nice. Sometimes generous with other than their time.

ON SHAKY GROUND

This has been the best day since the fall. I think I know why I have been so shaky since it happened 3 weeks. Once again I cheated death. It was totally different than I thought.I wasn't completely floored until the person who ended helping me told me what I had asked her to do. I had lost a chunk of time. I hit my head several times, really hard. Yet I am still here. Always my damn head. My dads favourite spot. As a boy I also feel about 15ft str8 onto it, was unconscious, spent the night in hospital.

I wasn't completely floored until the person who ended helping me told me what I had asked her to do.The fall also forced me to see how vulnerable I was and I couldn't carry on as if nothing were wrong with me. I look back over the last 3 years of showing. killing myself with pain, putting myself and others at risk. Was I being stoic? Brave? No. I was still showing my dad that I was not the weak sissy he always said I was that he had no reason to be ashamed of me. I saying look dad, despite the agony and fatigue I am fighting it. I will not become dependent and disabled. I. have had quite enough of his fucking shit. He can have it back. Why on earth would I want to please that monster? A Big Man who beat on very young children. Who was cruel, sadistic, and just plain nasty. And a great liar and actor too.

It wasn't just that old tape though feeding what I was doing. I felt it was grossly unfair that I should survive mentally, emotionally and physically only to find I was becoming disabled. No way! This is NOT going to happen. But now? I accept it. I am defeated. In a good way. I just let it all go. I can deal with this too. This too is not my fault. Half a dozen Drs have said that my ailments are a direct result of the abuse. I suppose living for so long with such fear and torment and physical pain from violence and sexual abuse outside the home is bound to take it's toll. The evidence is all there.

I don't understand this. I still think it is grossly unfair. But so is a child being born to starve to death grossly unfair. So is the slaughter of 8000 muslim men and boys 20 years ago by Xians in Bosnia. The Holocaust. One can go and complain it is all so unfair.

Or one can find out one's purpose now. Look for the good in it all. The fall was definitely a demarcation line for me. The end of an era and the beginning of new one about which I know nothing. I seem to being pushed to write and write and write. I am sick to death of that suggestion. So I write and write and write. A book? Why? So I can placed among all the other abuse stories that now have their section in the book shops. I find that incredibly distasteful and I now doubt the voracity of those stories. They are a big money industry. Yes, I think some readers may be helped. I also think there are those that get their kicks from being voyeurs to our pain and suffering and so it is know these stories sell. I don't want to be part of that. I think I reach far more people right here on the 'net. Much more immediate. And much honest too. No editor. No one to say 'change this' 'change that' make it more 'dramatic. 'No, embellishing is not lying.'

TALL POPPIES

I have always known that being open about my past leaves me vulnerable to sick and cruel or just plain ignorant people. I have had my share of evil comments here and I even had a stalker for a while. I handled them fine.

Just very recently, I wrote a short version of my past in response to something that warranted the explanation I gave. There was no response part from one brief comment. No one else commented until a woman did and all she could do was criticise my paragraphs! She said other things, all dismissive. 

I cannot tell you how shaming it is to bare yourself like that only to have that sort of comment back. This type of ignorant cruelty still enrages me and I have realised that if I feel rage then I have been shamed first.

How can anyone read such a story and ignore it or criticise it in anyway? Why is their response not one of compassion and horror? I don't know and I guess I have always had a problem with people like this. What sort of person can only criticise a person who is brain damaged, has serious body and pain issues, who has been able to communicate anyway, and who still WANTS to?  I don't know about you, I find that really callous and sick. This isn't about agreeing with me or not saying you don't. It is about not shaming me just because I find writing and typing a mental and physical challenge. All of which was clear in what I wrote. She isn't the first and won't be the last callous so and so I come across but this is the first time I have been honest about how it really makes me feel and what I think of those who do it. 

No survivor is looking for pity. That does no one any good and pity is worthless and far too easy. Aside: would you believe the amount of women who say 'ah, bless' when they see me in my wheelchair? That is pity and it is patronizing and it means fuck all. It dehumanizes me.

The reason it takes so many of us such a long time to gain enough courage to tell our story is precisely because of reactions like that. We fear being shamed and humiliated. The abuse made us feel like that and we don no want more of it.

My first attempts were met with 'you are too sensitive'. What do you think I felt? Yes, shame and humiliation. Another attempt was met with seeming understanding and I was invited to a prayer circle. I accepted, feeling that for the first time I was being listened to. That is until it began and they started to pray that I,(!ME!), be forgiven. Now what type of person is privileged to gain such trust only to throw it back in the face of the person trusting them?

I was taken by surprise today. I started to shake, my heart pounded. This despite the beta blockers and pain killers. One can safely assume by button was well and truly pushed!

Anyone who makes me feel shame, is out. I do not entertain having them in my life. I experienced the same shame, humiliation and anger with the person to whom I was kind and supportive yet they chose to interpret what I wrote as the opposite. I take responsibility for this though as I already knew what they were like but I had given them the benefit of the doubt only to be severely burned. (A situation another would have just brushed off I know but I am who I am.)

However, and this is what is important. I will never be silent. I will not acquiesce. There will always be victims of abuse who need to know my story and the stories of other survivors so that they know there is hope. So that they know that a semblance of peace is possible. That a good life can be lived regardless of how they feel in the moment. They need to know that happiness, joy, real friendship is possible. That love does not mean sex and violence. That love does not mean name calling, undermining ones confidence. Love does not have to be earned.

Most of all, they need to know that is not they who at fault. they need to know that they were abused (are being) because of who the abuser is and NOT  because of who they are.

My experience of writing about my life on this blog has been hugely positive. In ways I could never have foreseen. At first I remained anonymous and I was writing just as away of ordering my story for myself, of making some sense of it. I had no idea how it was going to affect others.

I very soon got comments and emails from other survivors. From professionals in the field child protection. I was astounded. I was also scared. I then realised that if I was telling my story and stating that shame does not belong with us, why was I hiding my identity. So I came out. Obviously I made sure to never identify anyone.

What we all need to know about recovery is this: there will never be a time when we will be as if the abuse the never happened. I used to think that I would come out of recovery wholly new, with the abuse and it's effects wiped away. Not so.

One learns to live well despite it. The severe PTSD symptoms do lessen. They do become further apart. But you will still have them. You will still have buttons that can be pushed, as happened to me today. There will be times when out of the blue, you will be plunged right back into that hell hole. Only now one can get out of it quickly and unaided, shake it off and carry on living a good and happy life.

Peace and joy do come but they don't stay. They come and go. But instead of plunging back into darkness when they go, one just lives well. One feels, one enjoys, and some of what we feel will not be nice and some of what we feel will be wonderful. Overall though we will be content. We will know who we are, where we have come from. We will know we are loved. we will love ourselves and we will not be at the mercy of the whims of others and their opinions about us. Only you really know what you feel.

No person who has not been through this torment has any idea at all what it is like. Remember that next time some ignorant soul judges you, they have not walked in your shoes. They understand nothing. There are those whose ability to empathise allows them to understand that we suffered/suffer and they treat us accordingly. They are safe people. Sadly, far to many do not have this gift.

I know that when one is in the depths of the shame and humiliation, the fear and the pain, it is nigh on impossible to see that the shame does not belong with one. The light seems very far away and it also seems that it must be us. After all, that person seems to be living a functional life. it is we who are not. it must be our fault. It is often just easier to blame ourselves than to accept that yes, other people can be so callous. It is not a safe feeling, yet we are strong enough to deal with it. No everyone is not coming from the same place. there those who will seek to harm you. There are those that do not seek to harm you but just do not care a joy. But there are those who not only will not harm you, they will love you and they will hold you and help you. You will become strong enough to accept them too.

STILL LIVING

It has been nine weeks since the house alterations have started and there is another 8-12 weeks to go. However, the decorating and downstairs flooring and furniture placement will all be done by July 5th, two days before our wedding. The rest will be done after our honeymoon. That most bothersome of that will be the stair carpets and the bedroom carpets. Then it is complete indoors. The rest of the work is outside. We won't be living as at present once the inside is complete and the 3 months till completion is not continuous work but rather waiting for work to be done which will only be a few days duration each.

I can't believe the synchronicity. Everything, and all the tradespeople, has just fallen into place. I chose all the right people initially and through them we found the other tradesmen to do the other stuff. 

We have been discussing how we seriously need cavity wall insulation and loft insulation too. Well, today a man knocked at the door and he managed to get 'insulation' out before I told him to get lost or words to that effect. Instead, much to his surprise I invited him in. Just what we need I told him. Guess what? It is all being at no cost to us! The government (taxpayers) pay for it because I am disabled. (Do bear in mind that John has paid huge sums in tax and NI!!! And never taken any benefits. Just pointing it out for those who like to bitch about SS. Disability COSTS money-in daily living and in the alterations made to this house.)

All in  all, things are going very well. I wish I could say the same about me. I have found this very stressful, the first signs of which was my body showing worsening symptoms-like the loss of balance, thus falling, several times a day, more pain, less sleep. Doc does not think this is a permanent progression given what has been going on. I have to say I was not prepared at all for the sheer awfulness of my safe place being so disrupted, people coming in and out all day, not being free to nap or just flop about. I just keep the finished picture in my mind. It will all be worth it in the end.

I have had to forgo dog shows much to my disappointment but I just physically cannot manage it. I am hoping to be at a show on July 1st as at least the downstairs flooring will be done so the dogs can stay clean after bathing. However, it is also smack bang in the middle of the decorating so maybe no shows until after the honeymoon.

I do try to keep posting here. I use Facebook too but i forget that not all my readers are there so of course it is naturally to wonder why this usually anything but quiet man is being so quiet! Now you know. I feel like I have lots to say on the more serious subjects too but just have not been with it enough to do so. 

I get emails from some readers, privately, sharing stuff they don't feel comfortable sharing on here. Please do not think you cannot still do that. Survivors always come first and I get much from your sharing.

Thank you for reading.

NOT TRUE!!!!!!

I have just finished watching an episode of Without A Trace.  In the final scene, Jack is upset because he told and abuse victim that her life was never get better.  And he believes that he lied to her, because in his opinion she could never overcome what happened to her.

This is not true!  I know it is not true!

No the damage can never be undone, but one can learn to live with that very well.

I do wish people would stop saying that we who have been abused can never have a good life.  We can have a good life, despite everything given love, support, and hope.

By saying that we can never overcome, we are stripped of hope.  That is far more damaging than anything else that could be put in our way.

TAKEN BACK BY SURPRISE

I was watching Without Trace and the story turned out to be about a 12 yr old boy who goes off to hang himself after being bullied at school. He is saved by the FBI and his parents. The difference between that boy and me is that he had allies - his parents, they didn't bully him too. I had none. It still shocks me that I can so swiftly be transported back 40 years and wet my face gets in second, before I even have time to register what is going on inside me.

I hated that boy for so long. Now I just wish someone had been there to hold him and tell him he wasn't shit , as I was nicknamed.

It really is astonishing I am who I am today and have the good life I have. I haven't just survived, I LIVE.