Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Support Group

I graduated from college in 1974. During that same year, I moved away from that state and got away from my abusers -- with the exception of my mother, who also moved with me along with my father. I need to make it clear right here that my father never abused me in any way.

During my time in college, I studied journalism. I took all the knowledge that I had gained in college, moved to the state of Virginia, and managed to get a job with a weekly newspaper. It was one of the best periods in my life. Not only did I have a job that I liked, but also I no longer had to submit to my abusers. They were no longer in that part of my life.

Shortly after moving there, I got a van that was equipped with a wheelchair lift, hand controls, and everything I needed in order to drive it myself. It was not long before I got a driver's license as well. Although I was not completely independent, I had moved about as far along as I could because of my disability.

I worked for a small family owned newspaper, and reported directly to the owner/publisher. My life seemed to have turned around. I was in love with my job, and the people in the town where I worked. I soon became known for my honesty and integrity because when I wrote my articles I did so objectively. For the most part, my assignments consisted of covering the courts, government reporting, coverage of the school board and the county school system.

When I was in college, my minor was in sociology with an emphasis on criminology. In addition, in doing my work, I was surrounded by lawyers, judges, criminals, county police officers and state police officers. I loved every minute of it until I started writing about certain lowlifes who often made threats against my life.

I made a friend who worked with the state police. I had a sense of security when I was with him. We liked one another, and he tried to give me inside tips as to what was going on within the criminal system. There were times when he was responsible for giving me a lead to a good news story.

There came a time when my friend left the state police, and took a position as a security officer with a local college. Now and then, he would call me and say that he had something to tell me. That usually meant he had something that would make a good article. I usually saw him as soon as I could.

I went to see him at his home one day, and he said he liked me a lot -- even more than I thought I knew. He had a one-floor house, and said that he wanted me to see all of his rooms. When we got into his bedroom, he shut the door behind us, and started hugging me. I said no and tried to push him away.

He tried kissing me on my lips and face, and at the same time unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it out of my pants. I was speechless by then. I had never seen that side of him. He took my clothing off piece by piece. Nothing I said stopped him. He lifted me out of my chair and put me on his bed. I struggled against him, but it was useless. I was not that strong. He said he loved me and wanted to make love to me. In my book, love and rape are two different things. He apparently did not know the difference.

I spent several hours with him on that day. He did whatever he wanted. I was afraid of him by then.. At least he was gentle with me.

When I look back on that day, I am sickened by what happened. It was as if I had left some abusers in one state, only to be trapped by someone else in another state. I have never figured out why any of my abusers picked me. To my way of thinking, it would have made more sense (actually, none of that made sense) for them to choose someone who did not have a physical disability. I mean, it meant extra work for them to move me around, undress me, get me out of my wheelchair, etc. I might be missing something here, but I just don't get it.

That was the first of countless days and nights that he abused me. I had no choice but to give him my cooperation. He made me do horrible things to him.

I’m sorry.

Oh Jim,

This post made me weep. I can't believe he did that to you. Actually, I can believe it. I can believe it all too easily. That's what makes me so sad.

It all makes so much more sense to me now. How you used to hate compliments? No wonder! You must wonder what is going to happen next when someone is nice to you.

It's not only your disability that forces you to give in, it's the mental prison we get stuck in. For me, I had to submit after being raped because it was a survival tactic. I don't think I would have had the guts to even say no to any man, let alone a police officer, because of my associations with sex and violence.

I have two friends who've dated police. It's scary what they have gone through. I'm so glad they got out of their relationships but those men that are designated to protect society have done a lot of damage to my dear friends. One of my friends told me her ex cop boyfriend raped her but she deserved it because she made him jealous. Unbelievable.

In my country, cops are very protected. Not only that, but the good cops are often hung out to dry. It sickens me that society is not safe from them.

I don't want to make it sound like all cops are bad. I do know some fine officers and my son wants to be one. I just can't believe the amount of injustice here. It angers me. It angers me so much, Jim. You never, ever should have had to go through that.

I think he chose you because he knew he could get away with it. I also think he really believed he loved you. I can see why. You are the person he so badly wanted to be, most likely. He wanted a piece of you so he took it.

Jim, what would you do now if you were in this situation?

Sam, thank you for your comments and positive support.

I want to stop writing in this journal, but I think it is important for me to get rid of as much pain and anger that I still have with me. In some stupid way, I have a strong fear of losing most friends I have gained on DS after they read everything I will have written by the time I conclude my writings once and for all. At the same time, any friends I may lose, were not really my true friends to begin with.

As for the question you asked, "Jim, what would you do now if you were in this situation?", I would probably have to go through with it again. That was the first, but not the last, time I came face-to-face with a police officer.

My parents and I were living together during the time that I was seeing the ex-police officer. My father knew him, so it was not too hard getting away from home whenever he wanted to see me.

He usually called me a day or two before he wanted to see me. The only time I did not see him was if I was sick. Other than that, I saw him whenever he wanted.

Our “relationship” went on for quite some time. I had no other friends, and he somehow managed to convince me that no one wanted to be near me because I was handicapped. He told me that so often that I finally began believing him. I was lonely, and he was the only person (other than my family) who showed any interest in me.

There came a time when my employer sold his newspaper. Soon afterward, I was fired because the new owner did not like handicapped people. I tried fighting my firing, but at that time, there were no laws that protected me. I then went into a long depressed state.

Less than a year later, my father died unexpectedly. His death left a large void in my life, which still exists. I was “lost” without him, and failed to see any kind of meaningful existence in my life.

My sister asked me to move to Colorado and live with her and her family. I refused. I wanted to remain closer to where my father had been even if he was no longer living. What I failed to take into consideration was that I would be living alone with my mother, who had still been occasionally abusing me.

When my father died, mother seemed to have fallen apart emotionally and mentally. She was walking around as though she was lost and did not know what was happening. Nothing I said changed that, and she soon became physically and emotionally abusive toward me. That being the case, whenever my friend asked me over to his house, I was more than anxious to go there.

I had not seen him as often because of losing my job, and shortly thereafter, losing my father. It seemed as though his attitude toward me had changed somewhat, but I told myself it was just my imagination. One day, he told me he had fallen in love with a woman, and they were going to be married. I became hurt and angry. I threatened to expose his “secret” life to his employer and friends. I should not have said that, as I soon learned.

He slapped me several times, while yelling at me to never threaten him. He said I was an “ungrateful cripple” and he would make me sorry for the things I had said. He told me that by the time he was finished with me, I would be begging for his forgiveness.

By the time I went home, I was scared to death. I remained that way for several weeks. Since I had not heard from him during that time, I began thinking nothing would come of his threats. I was wrong about that.

One day, he called and apologized for the way he had spoken to me. He said he wanted to make it up to me by taking me on a fishing trip. I really liked fishing, so I arranged for someone to look after my mother, and then I drove to a place where we were to meet along the eastern coast.

It was early evening by the time I arrived at a restaurant that he had selected. We went inside, ate our meals, and had a few drinks. I was not into drinking at that time, but he insisted it would make me calmer. After a few drinks, the entire room seemed to be spinning. I knew that I could not drive, so my friend said he would take me to our motel room.

When we got there, he took off my clothes and made love to me. I no longer had the willpower, or desire, to put up much of a protest. I let him use me in whatever way he wanted. I felt both disgusted and ashamed.

After finishing with me, he said he wanted to give me something so I would never forget our time together. He opened the door to a connecting room, and in walked several naked men. I recognized some of them as having been convicted criminals. I had been to their trials, and written about each of them in the newspaper.

My “former” friend told them they could do whatever they wanted with me throughout the next week as long as they treated me roughly, hurt me, and took pornographic pictures of me. He told me that was what I got for making threats against him. He then left the room.

The men wasted no time in attacking me. Throughout the week, they inflicted numerous acts of pain on me. I was beaten from one end of my body to the other. I was laid spread-eagled on the bed, with my hands and feet tied to the sides of the bed. It seemed as though dozens of men took turns raping me repeatedly, day after day, and night after night. I was forced to perform both oral and anal sex on them whenever they demanded it.

On the day that my ordeal concluded, they cleaned me up as best they could. Before leaving me, I was given a small notebook containing names, phone numbers, and addresses of most of those who had sexually abused me. They said they would be calling me now and then, and if I knew what was good for me, I would show up whenever, and wherever, they wanted. I was warned never to tell anyone what had happened during that week.

I drove home that day amidst seemingly endless amounts of pain and agony both in and out of my body. I went through countless hours of anguish trying to decide whether I should end it all by killing myself. I was too cowardly to end my life then, just as I am now.

Jim, you are the most courageous person I know to share this.

Are you feeling like this was your fault? In no way was any of this your fault. You were powerless. Your life was in danger.

You are a true warrior, JimK. Once again, thank-you for sharing more of your story.

Jim, I actually just now found your post, and I can relate to you one one definite level. My mother didn't sexually abuse me (two of my other family members took care of that) however, she did verbally and emotionally abuse me DAILY.( and sometimes physically abuse me) I believe that she may have some kind of personality disorder as well. I HAVE to love her, she is my mother, but even until this day, she is terrible to most people around her. She is the single most destructive, toxic, negative person that I KNOW. That is so hard to wrap my brain around. She can be nice once a month, or do something nice, but it doesn't erase all of the horrible things she says and does. I have found that I struggle as an adult to change my thinking and attitude, because I was brainwashed with her toxic ways and words.-- I am definitely working on it every day, but sometimes it is so hard to get past the pure manipulation that comes from having a mother of all people molest you. I mean molest in more than a physical sense. A mother is such a vital role in a child's life. I, as a mother cannot imagine EVER manipulating my position or my child. It makes me sick to think how a mother could actually purposely cause their child so much harm. YOU absolutely have to KNOW that none of what was done to you was your fault. You have to get to the point of forgiveness, not forgetting- forgive your mother and the other people who were WRONG to you-- forgive yourself for not knowing- that will allow you to accept what happened a little better. And take each moment the feelings come up, to say, I am better than what happened and in this moment I choose to NOT let it rule me or my future! TELL YOURSELF. . . "I can change, I can live out of my imagination, instead of my memory. I can tie myself to my limitless potential instead of my limiting past. I can become my first creator." I felt the exact same way after I was abused by another family member. I chose to not think about it for a while, but even when I got older, if I found myself feeling guilty, I would own the feeling. I would tell myself, you did nothing wrong, it happened, I choose to overcome this and not let it or the person hold me back or down. I can choose to let the memory pass. I know who I am now. . . and where I have come from. . . and what has happened to me along the way. BUT, I choose to get through the moment on top. I deserve better. You deserve to forgive it, make it through your "moments", and keep on living stronger and better than any of those people ever were capable of. Grow stronger because of their choices. You get the last say. I say I am not about to let something evil or wrong, hold me down, or keep me down for long. I am better than that. I am better than them. I can learn and grow and help someone else, and I win, not them. I think I was just giving myself a pep talk there! Ha Ha Anyway my faith and trust in God is continuing to allow me to cope with all of the bad in this life. I personally choose to work through the feelings, feel them, face them, forgive them and eventually forget them! I have too many other blessings around me and potential in myself that I need to be focusing on. This too is a daily struggle! But it's a happier road. If I can do it, I'm sure you can do it even better!

I think you need to dig deeper as to what it is you really feel guilty about. You obviously didn't initiate these actions & you were only a child ~ you didn't know how to react to what was happening to you. Do you think you really feel guilty about what happened ~ or do you feel guilty about your response to what happened.

I only ask because my step grandpa tried to kiss me & then touch me inappropriately a couple of times between the age of 11 and 12. I was so humiliated about it that I chose not to tell my parents, but I knew they would expect me too. Instead I was just rude to the abuser & tried to avoid contact with him. It was a weight on me until he died & i finally felt better when I started telling people close to me what happened.

Maybe your reaction to what happened ~ at the age of 4 was confused. If it wasn't what you think should be "normal" ~ I hope you aren't holding on to guilt for that. We are human beings and our responses events in our lives do not always fall into what society dictates as "normal". I think you need to work very hard on forgiving yourself for being a human being. This wasn't your fault in anyway shape or form and it's OK to love the person who did this to you ~ especially if it was a parent ~ It's human nature to love our parents. This person may have loved you ~ they had issues that they didn't deal with properly & maybe the intent wasn't to hurt you ~ but that was the result.
Life sure isn't cut an dry ~ it's complicated.
Let go of guilt first ~ you're keeping too close to you & it's eating you alive ~~ gotta release it!

I want everyone to check out this web site ~ I've found it so helpful (as well as seeing the man who put this site together ~ he's phonominal:
http://www.trauma-pages.com/