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I heard a share by a young man tonight who captivated the attention of fifty people in the rooms by sharing his story which included, among other things, sexual abuse. This sparked a dialogue with the other men in the room who noted that it seems to be a forbidden topic; yet a great many of us have suffered some sort of sexual trauma or abuse.  That’s one of the main underlying causes of addiction.  Another man shared his story of being molested by a priest.

So why is this topic so taboo?  I think I understand why it is more difficult for the men to discuss; society places these ridiculous expectations that a man by definition is stronger than a woman, and therefore, cannot be taken advantage of sexually; cannot be raped.  Well you don’t have to watch an episode of SVU to know that’s bullsh*t.  It happens to a lot of men when they are young and more and more of them are coming out and discussing it openly.  This takes real courage; we should laud them for their bravery to discuss a topic which has been deemed “off-limits” for centuries.

Don’t get me wrong — this does not minimize the rape, abuse and sexual trauma that women experience.  Me included.  Here’s what I can share.

[Disclaimer: I do not recall all of the details as I have said before.  I am now aware in therapy that I have blocked  a lot out] Rough, but here goes….

I believe I was sexually abused by my half-brother (the drug-addled pimp) from a very young age.    A lot of this is repressed so I will share more later as I remember it.  I remember too when I was ten and was on my way home from school.  I remember what I was wearing because I had an argument with my mother about wearing it (buying it). It was a green and white plaid blouse with puffy sleeves, and a white pilgrim-style collar with embroidered flowers across the collar.  I thought it was too babyish.  I chose the nylon stretch bell-bottom pants that matched it.  I hated the whole outfit but wore it at my mother’s insistence.  Anyway, as I said, I was on my way home from school and I decided to cut through the woods to my house on a path.  Once in the woods, a young guy (about 17) jumped out in front of me and scared me to death.  Each direction I tried to get past him, he blocked.  Then, four others came out from behind the trees.  They surrounded me and taunted me.  They told me if I wanted to make it out of there I would do whatever they told me to.  The leader of this pack was a teenage girl about 16 or 17.  She took out her switchblade pocket knife to frighten me.  It worked.  They encircled me at a tree and tied me to it with rope.  Then they cut my blouse open with their knife.  I already had breasts, but was not fully mature yet.  They took turns molesting me, rubbing and pinching my nipples and did the same with my vag.  I was terrified and sobbing.  When they finally let me go, they said if I told anyone they would kill me and my family, ending with a trite “we know where you live” as I ran off.  I was screaming all the way out of there, and remember that I ran all the way home so fast that my heart was pounding so hard that my chest hurt.

Long story short, I never received any kind of therapy about this incident.  Now, later, when I was about thirteen, I got dumped with my half-brother for him to babysit me.  He was always wasted on drugs and alcohol and had a violent temper (as did my mother). He told me to watch the girls (his pros who turned tricks in front of me), and to make sure they did not leave with anyone or go anywhere (the tricks came to his house and left when they finished).  When he came home, he told me to get in his bed and go to sleep.  I would get in his bed in my clothes.

He would eventually come to bed and would kiss me and molest me.  That’s all I can say.

On my 18th birthday I was raped (by my best friend’s father).  When I was 26, I was raped in a hotel room.

I am now feeling very uncomfortable and nauseous and sad and angry and I think I will stop here.  My point about this being a taboo topic is valid though.

P, L, B to all.

[Vanessa opened her eyes through the fog as if she’d been chasing the dragon.  She noticed instantly that she was completely naked and was on her knees in a submissive position in a circular room, with padded walls and a thinly carpeted red floor.  She looked around and became aware that she was also surrounded en masse by every man she had ever had sex with or made love to.  It was strange how each one stood against the wall and was totally silent, just staring at her.  She wanted to stand up but couldn’t muster the strength.  Beside her on the floor was a large bottle of pills; the strongest dope she could imagine.  Fear ran through her veins with adrenaline like ice.  She struggled to breath in slowly.  A voice from this crowd spoke solemnly “we’ve been waiting for you.”]

I woke up from this using dream -more like a nightmare and believe me that room was crowded.  Some were married men, some single; some alive, some long gone.  Some I had been with willingly…some not. I remember the feeling of being high, and woke aroused and scared shitless.  What the f**k is the point to a using dream anyway??? And why am I being forced to remember at least half a centuplicate of lovers???  There is a woman inside me, who seems fairly aching to get out.  I don’t think I can handle letting her come out.  It might result in a dissociative fugue!  On the other hand, I am stronger and clean.

Trust me, this is difficult to discuss.  I repressed a great many memories and details to survive the feelings associated with them.  I cannot truly recall all of the details now, although for sanity’s sake, I guess I am supposed to wish I could.  I am writing a journal, but it has taken on a fictional, third-person-singular form.

I described this dream exactly as I remember it –in third person; persona Vanessa who handles all the shitty stuff.  I don’t mean to sound crass, but sometimes I am an island; alone with myself and hating every moment, until the dissociation kicks in and I am spelled; relieved of my watch for a while.  That feels good to me.  What I described above is not my worst nightmare, because it lives in the past.  My worst nightmare would be to lose someone else I love and am close to.

I guess I need to face this one at some point.  Next time I have this nightmare, I will try to let it play out, as I am sure there is a learning and healing experience at the end of it.  Right now, let’s just say that a journey into my past is too frightening and too lurid to explore with my readers and followers.  But I can promise to keep you posted as to what happens if I don’t wake up right away and explore this using dream/nightmare further.

I apologize if I don’t write this blog post well, but I don’t want it to sound like a f**king screenplay!  These are sensitive issues I have to fight through daily now.  Some people understand it (like my therapist); others don’t.  They become judgmental of me instead.  I don’t frankly care.  I want to get through the tangled mess that is my disease.  I have bi-polar disorder and BPD, but that’s not who I am; it doesn’t define me, it’s just a label.

It’s like the suboxone issue.  I found out that the NA organization considers you are NOT clean if you are on suboxone or methadone as a prophylactic measure.  There are those in the program that have really reamed me for admitting I was in a suboxone therapy program.  I say, screw that!!!  Whatever keeps me from shooting it, smoking it, snorting it, chewing it, or licking it off the fu*king floor, works for me!!!  I consider myself 140 days clean TODAY!  The rest doesn’t matter much unless I give it credence.  I am working a program and it is working for me!  I need this program to stay clean so I can TRY to figure out nightmares like this.

Are you facing anything similar?  Talk to me.  Share a comment or a testimonial.

Every single day is one more than we deserve.  I miss my mother today.  I miss my late husband today.  Oh hello grief, what are you doing here today?  Well nice to see you but I really don’t want to hang out for long.  This program of recovery that I am working seems to be changing me for the better and I am grateful every single day that I am clean.

I am trying not to dwell in the past plus have taken myself off of some psycho drugs as well.  My sponsor says that if you are taking suboxone you really aren’t clean; just trading one drug to stay off another.  Well I say that if that’s what it takes to stay off of heroin, morphine, Fentanyl, pot, crack, crystal meth, acid or cocaine or whatever the f**k else you may be battling, then so be it!

Yeah maybe at some point in time I will not take the suboxone either.  Maybe as I get old, my body will have fewer problems….Right?  Maybe I will not take anything for my blood pressure or heart medicine or thyroid pills or nothing.  Yeah I can totally see that happening…not.  All I know is I will “take” (USE) whatever I have to in order to survive, because if I am not here anymore then what the fu*k was I doing all this for to begin with???

Isn’t it funny how my emotions just ran from okay to sad to angry and back to sad all at once???  Maybe being off the antidepressant or whatever it was is making my bi-polar mood swings ramp up.  Let’s see if I can make it to a manic HIGH rather than a depressive LOW today.  I plan to finish my laundry, take a LONG, HOT, STEAMY, SCENTED BUBBLE BATH, then maybe if the snow dies down I will go have dinner with my boy -friend.  A friend that is male and 28 years older than I.  Yes, as a matter of fact I am trying to figure out this relationship.  It is not sexual in that he cannot have conventional sex due to his past prostate cancer (I may have blogged about him before), so it is just about affection with us.  And companionship.  So he is old enough to be my father (and my father hates this relationship), but we are close friends and have been since the late 1980s.  I was a bartender and cocktail waitress who served he and his (late) wife drinks.  She was a bad alcoholic.  A lush and a slut in that she came on to every guy in the bar and sat on their laps and kissed them.  I don’t know if she f**ked any of them, but he won’t tell me the details other than her drinking and smoking killed her a few years ago.

I liked her as a person in the way that she interacted with me.  I shouldn’t be judging her because I acted the same exact way in my life.  Maybe that’s why I am connected to him.  To help him understand what an addiction and UNDERLYING CAUSES OF IT can do to you!  Oh hello Guilt…nice of you to join us…and you brought Shame along?  Great.

Excuse me while I take my bath and have a long discussion with my guilt, shame and sadness and try to process this all to the point where I can get back to my peaceful and calm and uplifted place.

Blessings to all on this snowy, windy Sunday –and Happy St. Patty’s to those who celebrate it.  Happy birthday to my niece in Vienna and peace, love, blessings to all who read this.  Please comment or share on Testimonials.  I don’t know how to Facebook or Twitter yet.

This is a great day.  I feel good and am so motivated to do stuff.  I started working on my third step now that my sponsor and I have gone over my Step 2 and come to an understanding about roles and expectations or responsibilities, I am ready and willing.  But this is only a part of my story today.  Checking in with myself, I feel a strange sense of freedom and peace of mind.  I have given myself over –surrendered to my believe in a higher power and this action of surrender (which will be a daily process for me in meditation), has led me to this state of calm.

I want to do so many positive things.  I am anxious about doing my 4th step, I mean a really thorough and detailed account of all my actions and relationships will be scary and painful, but I will take my time and process through it.

The other half of me feels anxious in a not-so-positive way; I feel an itch to get into some kind of trouble.  Vanessa made big 80s hair with hot rollers, then a curling iron and finally a buttload of hair spray.  She wants to play with the false eyelashes to see what look she can create…then she wants to go …out and play.  My acting out behavior is craving attention.  What disaster befalls me if I follow this craving and go out in public and seek trouble?  Will I end up at the dope man’s place?  Will I relapse for real?  Will I end up in bed with someone I don’t even know or like?  Will I once again allow my body to be used inappropriately to satisfy a craving I could take steps to avoid now?

I am going to watch movie in 3-D mode (using the DBT 3-Ds skills; I’ll delay by watching a good movie, distract myself cooking something and decide later whether I still feel like going out.

More later…

Thankfully the urge has calmed down and i can make plans to do something safe like shopping so I plan to do that instead.

Right now I am enjoying a new movie while eating the Salmon I just made on my Foreman grill.  It is delicious!  Saved to stay clean another day.