I was sexual abuse and grew up with an abusive alcoholic father.
My dreams as a kid where surviving my childhood and move out and never to rely on or trust a man. Because one thing I could always count on is being let down. I survived my childhood but numbing myself with drugs and alcohol starting at the age of 12 years old. So compared to my parents, I am a saint. I am not sure I have respected myself or others when it comes to sex. No I never planned on having affairs.
I guess I am selfish. I only recently starting following my religion. My moral compass is pretty much broke and do struggle with many sins. I guess I learned how to lie and fake it at a young age.
Yes I believe adultery is wrong. I keep secrets but have not had to directly lie. My husband keeps secrets too and I have caught him in many lies. I just ignore them. It is not worth arguing. There is way more trouble in the marriage then just my affairs. I really wanted help on the other stuff but once I mentioned my affairs, it was over. So I will just have to figure out things for myself.
I have only mentioned my daughter because she is my biggest concern but I do have 3 teenage boys. I just can't imagine the destruction that will happen if I come clean.
I do want to be a better person but all my survival instincts tell me that I will be destroyed. I know, drama queen.
Violette, My story .... well..... here goes.
I hope you have time to read. I am not sure if I have ever even posted the entire thing anywhere on MB in one place. I guess now is as good a time as any.
When I was seven, my older brother began sexually molesting and raping me. He did this over the course of several years, until I was around the age of 10 or 11. I was spared continuation, because he was sent to VietNam. I suppose war is good for some people. While the rest of my family was devastated, I was thanking the God I prayed to for relief.
Meanwhile, back at home, I was also raped by two teenaged males who lived down the block from us. One of them also beat me as I was walking home from school a few days later. I required some medical attention and surgery to the throat. At the time, I was so afraid of my father's rages that I did not report the rape, only the beating. I told my mother.
My father was not mentally stable. I say this now because I more fully understand his condition at this point. He beat me quite often, leaving bruises and contusions that were readily visible to anyone who might have given me a cursory glance. Nobody did. I was often found hiding in my closet, in order to avoid being seen by my father. This was the easiest way to avoid being beaten, because the rule seemed to be that if he saw me, he beat me. Avoid his sight-line, avoid the fist. One time, he shoved my head in a toilet. Another time he beat me for.......having bruises from the beating the day before.
My younger brother was gravely affected by the situation at home. He witnessed so much abuse of me by my father that he wanted to stop and couldn't, that he was severely psychologically damaged. He once witnessed my dad trying to beat me with a kitchen chair, and this became some sort of major psychological event for him. Later in his life, my brother attempted to commit suicide (twice). In one of his sessions, he discussed this chair-beating event as though it occurred to HIM, and not to me. He had psychologically taken my place, to rescue me from my father's hands. This was no ordinary situation in my home, Violette.
And no, my dad did not drink. I often wonder, though, if this had any relationship to his use of medications for migraine headaches. I may never know.
As a teenager, I would pray nightly for the memories of the sexual abuse to just go away. I wondered why God allowed such memories to plague me, why He allowed such things to happen. I was haunted by these memories, daily, hourly, moment-to-moment. God did not save me from them.
I dated a few boys. I was an angry young woman, with a quick temper, but a heart that was also quick to attach. I met a boy and we dated for about three years. It was a terrible relationship. That guy was an alcoholic, and he and I would drink way too much, way too often. And we would argue, mostly because I was insecure, and he was drunk and also angry due to his home life.
Oh- I would love to let you know this....his home life was one where his parents were together "for the kids". They were Catholic, did not want to divorce. The mother no longer loved her husband, and was waiting until the kids graduated because she wanted them to have a "happy home". They divorced as soon as his little sister graduated from high school. The parents never told the kids any of this - but the kids most certainly were aware.
Anyway. We fought often. And this guy beat me regularly, whether I needed it or not. At one point, he threw me out of his car. While it was moving. On Main Street. Before we finally broke up, I actually spent time in protective custody - in jail - because he beat me so badly and the police believed he might KILL ME. And the very next morning, I went back to him. I apologized to him for...MAKING HIM BEAT ME.
The next day.......I met my husband. It wasn't but a day later that I figured out that not only could I leave that guy, but I SHOULD leave that guy. And I did.
Ultimately, I married my husband. I had a one-night stand. My husband had a one-night stand. We were pretty stupid that first few months of our marriage, but we recovered and figured stuff out.
At one point, my husband told me that he didn't love me, he never loved me, and he never would love me. He left me for about three months, and went off to pursue another woman. That fantasy never came to fruition for him. The day after his return to our marriage, he had another one night stand.
I stuck it out with him. For many years, we were okay. I had what I now understand was an emotional affair for about two months back around 1982. I realized what I was doing, and stopped that behavior. My husband had an emotional affair, or a grief affair, or something, with the widow of his brother, when his brother died back around 18 years ago.
We had many years of good marriage. He had a physical affair almost six years ago now. That about devastated me, and nearly devastated him, because right on the heels of d-day we found out that my H had cancer.
So we were recovering from the blow of d-day, only to find out that my H may never be able to have sex again due to his cancer and the subsequent surgery. That his last sexual encounter just might very well have been
the. other. woman.
That is one he// of a d-day.
God was hearing some prayers from this Schoolbus. There were many times that I wondered if He was deaf, so often those prayers were screamed. Just in case.
H recovered from the cancer, thank you very much.
Do I have "excuses" for not telling the truth?
Do I have "excuses" for not doing the right thing for others?
Do I have "reasons" for not connecting with my husband?
Do I have a past to point to for being "the way that I am" and for basically
REFUSING TO CHANGE?
Yeah, I suppose I do, if I were to CHOOSE to anchor myself to the past, and to CHOOSE to take the wrong way out for myself.
I suppose I could do drugs and say, "Well, you know, I was sexually abused as a child, so I do drugs."
I suppose I could become an alcoholic and say, "I drink because I was beaten by my father as a child."
I could cheat on my husband and say, "You know, I had this boyfriend who used to beat me, and I just cannot trust men."
That is all on ME. All of these bad behaviors are my CHOICE. They have absolutely nothing to do with what happened to me as a child, because when I woke up this morning
nobody was beating me
nobody was dragging me by my hair
nobody was kicking me with mountain climbing boots in the crotch
nobody was shoving my head in the commode
nobody was trying to get their dog to....
nobody was....doing anything to me
I control my SELF. I choose where I place my anchors. I choose what I drag with me, and what I leave behind. I have realized that the people who abused me did so because
THEY HAVE PROBLEMS
and not because I have problems.
So I leave them to their problems. I do not drag them with me through the rest of the days I have for living. They are too heavy, and I have but two arms for carrying - and those I love are whom I CHOOSE to carry.
For me, I have been there, and done that. I own that I had sex outside my marriage. I did not do this because I was abused as a child. I did this because I chose to, and I chose to knowing full well that it was wrong, that it went against what my inner voice was telling me to do, that I was making very weak excuses for doing it, that I was thinking of many ways to blame my husband, and that I was trying to rationalize the crappola out of it.
I did it anyway, because I had NO SELF-CONTROL, and did not want to be controlled, either.
I didn't want any "rules" right then. I wanted whatever I wanted. Period.