Archive | August, 2013

They Are Rapists and Should Be Labeled As Such

22 Aug

They Are Rapists and Should Be Labeled As Such.


Waiting To Be Found.

20 Aug

Together We Heal

As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse (CSA), I have been searching for sometime to figure out a way to summarize the challenges survivors face. But due to the levels of pain and varieties of struggles each individual confronts, it seemed like this wasn’t possible. That is until I was watching, of all things a tv show, when I had a moment of clarity. A young lady had been kidnapped and was all alone. While listening to the dialogue of the actors and imagining how a real kidnap victim must feel it hit me like a ton of bricks…

The loneliest feeling in the world…is waiting to be found.

And there it was. My own personal struggle was wrapped up in that one, simple but excruciatingly painful statement. Survivors of CSA know this feeling. We live in constant fear of people learning what we are currently going through or have…

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A little about me

19 Aug

Currently I am a 56 year old male, married with an eight year old daughter. I come from a home where my dad died when I was just a few months short of three years old. I had a brother andtwo sisteres all older. Mom raised us in the sixties and seventies. Around 9 years of age a man started working as our churches Director of music & education. Mom thought he would be agood father figure in my life and pushed me to be even more active in youth groups at church. Life at home was at best disfunctional. There were physical fights between my mom and my brother and one of my sisters. Mom was very strict and fast to administer punishment. So at nine the touching in just affectionatly ways started. Then they moved to hands moving to my butt. And it just kept developing with no negative responce from any adults that were present. He was also big on kissing around everyone. Just his personality he would say. He greeted everyone this way if they didn’t move back. Fast forward a few months of getting everyone used to his ” PDA”. And now he has turned it to fondelling and forceful kissing and frenching. Followed very quickly in time with oral sex and rape. This went on for seventeen years and I always felt powerless to stop him. Very early on when this started I learned the more I tried to not let him french me or open my mouth to take him in, the more force he would use and the more pain for me it was going to be. If I would not open my mouth, he would use his thumb and fore finger at the corner of my mouth a apply what ever amount of ptessure and pain he needed to acheave his goal. Andwhen it came to the sodomy, he used his size and weight over me to gain forced anal entry. So it was at nine and ten that I gave up fighting and I never learned how to stop him even when I was larger than he was. My relationship with women and dating at age of 15 or 16 was very confusing. I never knew how to relate or let them or anyone else get very close to me. At around 19 or 20 a married friend of one of my sisters took a very keen interest in me and I had no idea what was happening until she started kissing me and rubbing me through my pants. All of this with her ended up being was just heavy petting but it showed me that everything felt much more exciting than what he was saying was how love is shown. But it also gave me a look at what would be a problem even now. Triggers of sounds, smells, touches ,etc would cause me an instant loss of erection and my trying to push it all further out of my thoughts. The other thing I thought it all meant was that all female wanted what she was doing with me and an enjoyable sensation for myself and I wanted that feeling so much more in my life that I started trying to re-enact it with most women that showed any interest in me, all this as while I was enduring the dark secret that I tried to hide from my thoughts even as he continued to abuse and rape me at least once a week. Fast forward through numerous hit and run relationships and several quik encouters all with women that I knew inside somewhere would never last but I was going to enjoy the chase. But then i found myself in a relationship in “95” in a relationship that I finally thought maybe this one will last. I never knew at this time that I was the very one destroying my relationships of the past. At the same time with thisrelationship I was dealing with my moms dementia and her care, a very special friend frighting for her life with her 2nd found of ovaian cancer and a news article in the paper that hit me like a freight train. The man that had been my abuser was being sued for being sexualy inapropriat with a male employee and in a different story altogether, about a kid I went to church with having been abused by him and also his younger brother. His younger brother never escaped being manipulated and is now serving life for the murder of an abortion doctor. He had someone telling him from the standpoint of a pastor, that God wanted this Doctor dead. Speeding this up. My relationship started falling apart, my mom was getting worse, I had a time while working in my ill friends yard trying to keep her dogs in that I started to sweat as never before and then went totally blind for about ten minutes and felt like my heart would explode. Within a few weeks my relationship wasover with noexplanation, my mom had been in the hospital several times for problems that neverwhere diagnosed and for a couple of months after that I watched as my special friend died a little more each day until I got the call that she had died during the night. During this all those news paper articles kept cutting into the wall that kept my past locked away. I ended up with almost losing a company I had worked so hard to build, having all kinds of test to find out what happened that day I went blind, a mom that I could no longer care for alone and sitting in my truck for hours on end each day for over four months planning 4-6 different ways to commit suicide without anyone being able to call it only an accident so my insurance would pay for my moms care and every bill against my eastate would have been paid. This was my second time of thinking suicide. The first time I was in my twenties and had the gun in my mouth but to me this was far more of a threat than the time with the gun. Cut to the chase. I got into therapy and he got me to a phychiatrist for help with medication to battle the depression. It was about a year fighting to get started on a good road to recovery. I also talked with the pastor at my church as part of my healing. I never blamed God for what happened. I, like probably almost every last victim of a sex crime, thought I had done something wrong that caused this to happen to me. I have used what happened to me as a way to make others aware of sexual abuse and how it can hide in plain sight. And to try and help others that have started trying to heal or those that were like me and have suffered in silence and have struggled to figure out why life never seems to be quite right. Those like me that would pick relationships that never had hope of a future or, as I discovered in therapy, if I screwed up and started to become to close to someone I was seeing, and that part of me that was trying to protect my darkest secret felt threatened that they were getting to close to discovering my secret, that protective subconcious me would start doing things to effectively undermine and destroy the relationship. It was never any physical thing that I did but it was more than enough mental strain and at times emotional neglect that made sure no one was going to get close enough to see me for what had happened in my past. So trying to help victims, survivors and even their partners understand for the first time why they never seem to be able to connect with someone or why their partner always pulls away when thing get to intimant. I don’t pretend to have all the answers all I can do is talk about all the crap thatis my life andlet them hear how much it will probably sound like theirs and hope theyfind hope that their personal hell will get better. As you can guess this is a very small part of a long story and an even longer evolution to who the me is today. Like I stated in the original letter it is very frustrating trying to get oneself before those that can help get their story out their. The only thing harder and more frusrating is trying to get before the people at the state and national level that make these band aid laws that can actually make a person feel like a victim all over again. In the year 2000-2001 I wrote every Florida House, Senate and member of Congress. I wrote the Govenor and his wife and the Lt Govenor. I wrote the President and his wife. I wrote the Vice President and his wife. I even resent everything to the local state officials a second time about three months after my first mailing. Out of the hundreds of letters, I received I believe it was eleven responces. Nearly every last one was very politicly correct lip service. The office of the president at that time said about my letter on child abuse that “it is a local issue that I need to address with my local elected officials” or something very close. I still have those letters on the way they treat this issue is vulgar. Sorry this has been so long but it is but a small part of my total story and I wanted you to have enough to hopefully give you a feel for what I am about. Sorry that some of the spelling is so bad but the spell check and auto correct on this tablet is less than desirable I look forward to hearing from you.

Only By The Grace Of God,
Bill Lester

Watch “You were God’s Masterpiece…” on YouTube

6 Aug

I am amazed by what this young lady has done with such a simple presentation but a meassage that makes such an impact deep inside.

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