I don’t write here a lot anymore, I know. Mostly because I’m fine … I’m fine. Yes. Like a mantra. A little bit of that is because I feel like I’m whining all the time. Like who wants to hear about it?
So the man is crazy? So what?
Who cares?
I’m fine.
That’s what I have to keep saying.
Look out the window and think about jumping … No, I’m fine.
My dad died. I miss him and I hate him all at the same time, but … I’m fine.
I came off my medication. I couldn’t write while I was on it and even after my dad’s passing, everything was numb. Not in the grief kind of numb. This was different. Just numb that my emotions had flat-lined. Christmas came and I tried to enjoy it. I tried to feel it inside like I had for years, but it was gone. Maybe losing Christmas was more heart-breaking that losing my dad … maybe. But I’m still fine.
I couldn’t sleep on the medication. I developed something called restless leg syndrome and my doctor told me that I had to choose, my mental health or my legs. I know people will say change medication, but see, I can’t take tablets, and so what I can take has to be a liquid and so my choices were limited, but my medication was to target my OCD and my depression, so what I was taking was the leading medicine for that.
It did work on my depression. I don’t feel depressed. I can get up in the morning now and not feel like I want to just roll over and die.
I found a lump in my body and I must go to the doctors to get it checked out, but I can’t. Not because I am afraid of what they might say. This lump lingers in my thoughts so often, knowing it needs to be looked at … knowing I need to ask, but I can’t. And it’s like a war inside my head, one that says what if it is something serious and you leave it too long. Then what?
Tell my kids something bad, because I couldn’t go to the doctor?
But then if I call the doctor, he has to touch me. He has to see me and look and examine me. Just the thought of it now has me wanting to bolt for the bathroom and pull my friendly blade from the soap dish and cut away every little millimetre of dirt buried under my skin. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the thought of it … hands on me. Even the doctor.
I could tell him, right? I could say being here triggers me so bad that I am ready to hurt myself for it, but what do I say?
I was a victim of sexual abuse?
I wasn’t. It’s a lie. It feels like a lie.
I was a participant. Its different.
I can’t say to the doctor, don’t touch me. Touching me reminds me what a disgusting person I am. It reminds me to hate myself and hate the child I was.
I just sit in the corner
Over here.
Out of the way.
I’m fine.
JD Stockholm. 
I wish I had the words to make you see that that little boy was a victim. You think he was a participant because he “found pleasure”, but he only did because that was the only time he felt anything good. Please try not to hate him. He wanted to be loved like we all do. It’s not his fault that this was the only kind of love he was shown. Please take care of yourself. ❤
Oh JD. Your pain soaks through me and it hurts. I ache for you.
I don’t know how you can achieve this, but you must learn to love that little child you were. Otherwise you’re sort of joining in the abuse of him. And it was abuse. Make no mistake. Darling – you were a sweet, innocent little child who was dragged into an underworld of psychological violence so extreme that it has even got you hating yourself and believing you’re dirty. And as long as you believe that, they have power over you.
Yeah – so what if you began to enjoy the sexual stuff? You simply can’t control every response your body emits. That doesn’t mean you weren’t a victim. You were.
I am sending all my love to you, have strength, you are a beautiful, brace human being who has as much right to be here as any of us. Even if you’re not fine.
One more thing…you are not whining! We all need to talk. Some of us talk more than others 😉
Oh oh oh. My heart breaks for you! But, you need to see the Dr. Explain to him, can a calming, supportive friend or the Mrs go with you?
When will mental health issues be able to be spoken of in everyday conversation s?
I will keep you in my prayers!!! Sending good vibes and more respect for you than you will ever know!
Whining. Not hardly…Venting, finding support maybe. But, you are one of the bravest people I know of! Nothing but respect and concern.friendly hugs and support. Be good to you!! You are so so worthy!
You were…and still are…a victim. Please don’t let your shame keep you from going to the doctor. And please open up to your doctor. You have no reason to be ashamed. You were a child!!! You were abused by a very sick man. I pray you won’t always let your past define you. You don’t have to sweetheart.
I would like to encourage you to study what God has to say in His Word about giving your burden and your pain to Him. I don’t understand why these kind of things happen to innocent children. But I know we live in a fallen, evil world. And I know a sovereign God sees all and tho there may seemingly be no justice in this life for victims of abuse, I am confident that there will be one day. He is coming back to get His children that have given themselves to Him and we will live with Him forever. But for those who reject Him, He has promised that He will repay them for their evil deeds with vengeance. I pray you will give your heart, your pain, your burden to Him! He can take it and give you peace that passes all understanding.
John 14:27
John 3:16
Matthew 11:28-29
1 Peter 5:7
Love you so much. You’re such a bright shinning star I just wish you could see it. You ARE a victim. Your choice was taken away when you didn’t even know you had a choice. Please stop doing this to yourself. Stop the self hate because you don’t deserve it especially from yourself.
I’d already told you the same about my dad. How I loved him because he was my dad but I also hated him for what was done. You are so strong to be a survivor of all the horrific things you went through. You’re an inspiration to other survivors and to have the courage to share your story makes you a warrior in their and my eyes. You are a angel.
I understand about doctors I don’t like going myself. But please take care of yourself. I want you to be here for a very long time.
That thing you call whining – you can do it in my ear all day long. Squashes & squeezes Mucker ❤
Reading your words breaks my heart. I have never thought of you as a whinger or a whiner. You are more than entitled to express your feelings about what happened when you were a child. Guilt can leave deep hooks in our souls. I do hope that you make it to the doctor to get examined and tested. Can you possibly take a sedative like valium etc, before going to the doctor, and get your wife to perhaps go with you as a support person ?
Yvette really said it best. At the very core of all us is the created need to be loved and accepted. A child does not realize when an adult uses that wrong. They only recognize that the need as been filled. The mother in me wants so much to tell that little boy just how precious he is. How loved. How accepted. Exactly the way he is.
This is why so many authors are mad…it takes a certain mind to write, and that mind goes away when you “fix” it with medication.
You are fine. Even if it’s a lie sometimes- you really are fine.
Also, the restless leg shit is infuriating.
Go to the doctor, you can’t die from a trigger, no matter how hard it makes your heart pound. 40 is too young to die. You’ll be fine.
To a degree, I suppose we’re ALL “fine.” But that doesn’t mean we don’t need each other. Deep down, we all know what’s best for ourselves; even if we don’t want to admit it.
Fear controls so much of this world. So much of ourselves.
It is a shame how much suffering is caused from this. I don’t expect you to overcome every single fear you have accumulated.
No one should expect that.
More than once, I have seen you adapt to your environment (however horrific) and survive. I know you will continue to do so.
I trust you will make the right choices for yourself, and for the ones who are important to you; as that is what life is about. Choices.
And life is all we have.
It’s all we have.
*Wraps my arms around you. Hugs you tightly.*
You, my dear friend, my tormentor, my confidante, my hero; you are not alone.
And you indeed, will be fine… in the good way.
Love you. nmw. ღ
My heart breaks for you!! Your not whining. You have a huge support system ready to listen. YOU are a victim of sexual abuse. You need to love that little boy inside you. YOU were a child. Parents are supposed to protect and love that child. YOU didn’t get that. IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT.. Love you!!
Love, you are not fine. You are in the clutch of grief. You have a lump that needs to be checked out. You were a victim of abuse, not a participant. You were a child. You could not give the consent needed to be a participant.
You cannot control everything and fear can consume you. But you need to be brave again and make some choices. Do you want to see your children and grandchildren grow up? Do you want to give up the life you are living now? Please know that so many people, including me, care for you so deeply and are sending positive energy to you. I will support whichever decision you make, but I want to tell you a story.
When I was about your age, I discovered a lump on my the underside of my upper left arm. I was so frightened, but I did choose to go to the doctor. What really concerned me then was his reaction. He felt the lump and told me it was attached to my bone. Then he leaned over and kissed my forehead. He knew Gary was sick and that we had two small children. I felt he was giving me a death sentence.
I contacted my group of friends and they put me in the middle of a circle and prayed for me after anointing me with blessed oil.
My doc arranged for me to have nuclear isotopes put into my body and then return home for four hours to let them bond throughout my body. That morning, I had felt the lump in my arm. After the time passed, I returned to the clinic for a full body scan. The following day, I returned to the doctor for my report. I was filled with trepidation. First, he felt for the lump and could not find it. He said he didn’t understand, but there was no sign of that lump or any in my full body scan.
I trusted that someone out there was watching out for me and I am forever grateful. But, I also sought the help I needed and did not wait for the help to arrive on its own.
I am praying for you. Many hugs and much love.
Oh love. It’s ok to not be fine sometimes. My heart breaks for that little boy, I want so desperately to wrap my arms around him and tell him it’s going to be ok, that he is a good boy and that nothing that’s happened to him is his fault. It wasn’t his fault, and it’s not your fault. You were abused. It doesn’t matter how you responded to it, how it made you feel…you had a response to something that was done to you, something you had no say over, something that never should have happened. But you were strong, and you survived, and you grew up to be an amazing person!! I wish so badly that you could see yourself the way we see you. That you could appreciate the wonderful person you turned out to be. That despite everything you went thru as a child, you grew up to be an awesome writer, a great man who cares about others, an amazing father. You are a good person who is loved by many…feel that love and accept that it’s for you. You are fine. You’re better than fine, you’re a strong survivor, and you’re going to continue to be strong and you’re going to overcome your fear, and go to the dr so that your family doesn’t have to lose you any sooner than necessary. You are good, you are loved, you can do this! ❤❤❤
I know I’ve told you this before.. but you are one of the strongest men that I know of. You’re still here fighting a good fight and I wish nothing but the best for you.. I wish I could say or do something that would make you realize just what a wonderful person you really are, inside and out. Please muster up all the strength and courage you can and tell your Dr. If I thought it would help, I’d fly there and go with you. In a heart beat Dude. xoxo
I am fine. Such a small sentence that has so many different meanings. I’m good, I’m coping, leave me alone I don’t want to talk – just to name a few. You say you’re fine, but are you really? i think not.
Your words bought tears to my eyes, because of the pain that you are feeling, but that is not unusual. James you are a strong man, with a beautiful family and many friends who are there to support you in your struggles. Please do not neglect your health, listen to your body when it’s talking, the world needs you here for another 40 years. Go see that doctor, he is there to help you not hurt you – it’s hard but it must be done so that you don’t dwell on that lump.
As for whining, really, do you? Well if you believe that you do (but I surely don’t), you have a right to say what you feel, never forget that. You are very much loved my friend and if you feel the need to speak what you feel, no one will ever stop you from doing so – in fact you’ll will find us encouraging you to do so. It’s your way to release, and I am more than happy to be here for you. ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
There is no reason to sit in a corner by yourself. You have an unbelievable support system that surrounds you and believes in you. You are a survivor of the most heinous abuse. You are a victim. You were the child seeking acceptance and looking to be loved. You are not fine until you can believe and love yourself and when you do not blame yourself and can forgive yourself.
Please go to the doctor and get yourself looked at. You are worth it. Think of your family if you cannot bare to go for yourself, do it for them, your family. You are strong, you have survived much worse.
You amaze me. I came along late to the party but I am learning fast why you have a huge circle of protective friends who will stand beside you and protect you and tell you your worth.
I want to hold that little boy, take him in my arms and never let him go. I want to take away all the bad.
There is just so much I want to say to you to make it all better. You are a wonderful person. And that child in you needs to be let off the hook. It wasn’t that child’s fault, he was a victim not a participant. You know how I know? Because I had to learn that for myself. I was sexually abused by my uncle and I loved him so much, I felt guilty thinking as I got older that something did feel right, it couldn’t be that he loves me. I was sexually abused by my half brother from the time I was a baby till I was 14. My parents knew they did nothing. My father beat me almost every day and the emotional abuse sometimes felt worse. I’m still not fine today but after enough therapy and medication I know they were the monsters. I loved my father and my uncle and forgave them but I never forgot because the pain is still there at times. I talk to people all the time cause I don’t want to hide the secrets anymore. So please don’t think your whining, we all have love for you and we don’t think that. Please just try to go get checked out I don’t want anything to happen to you. Take your most trusted person with you. Please, please believe it wasn’t your fault. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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