Venting Rage

[Guest Elena]

Okay, this is something I usually try to avoid like the plague, but it seems to keep draging itself to the front of my mind lately. I am beginning to think there are parts of this I didn't deal with because I wasn't any where near dealing with how uncomfortable I was being a boy at the time. Yeah, thinking I am one of the monsters is a pretty big clue.

This starts with my dad in a way, he provided the inspiration. The very few memories I have of my dad before he and my mom divorced are all centered around one thing, his belt and being punished with it. My sister and I never knew which end he was going to use. My sister has scars on her shoulders from the buckle still. I got lucky, no permanent scars.

My step father was another matter all together. I literally thought he was a demon the first time I set eyes on him, he might as well have been. My mom married him just before my 8th birthday. The first few months were okay, they were too busy being newlyweds. But by Christmas he had picked up on some of my feminine mannerisms and took it upon himself to correct them. He was my special version of hell. At first it was just verbal abuse, but he was a master at that. He had studied to be a psychiatrist and gotten thrown out for his drinking in his last year while working as an intern. Of course I didn't know this then, my mom told me years later when she was going to a therapist for what he did to her.

I learned to ignore the verbal stuff fairly quickly, so he started hitting me. Always with a commentary about how big of a sissy I was, or how boys need to be tough. The taunts were endless. The beatings were only when no one else would see them. The only time he actually caught me dressing was the second worst day of my life. I was 12 and he found me wearing one of my sisters blouses. He beat me senseless, then tore my clothes off. When I started to come to my senses he was holding me down with a knee on my chest and holding a pair of vise grip pliers. He waited til I came around then clamped them on my genitals, and threatened to rip them off. If my sister and a friend hadn't come home just then, he might have done it too. I certainly thought he would do it.

My mom turned a blind eye to most of it, the first time she saw a bruise I told her I had been beat up on the playground. So she had me start taking karate, that was when I was 9. I took to that like a fish to water and earned my first black belt just after I turned 13. That's when I started fighting back, and during spring break that year I finally got the better if my step father. I left him out cold in the living room and went to a friends house. He never hit me again, he'd already done his job though. He had taught me how to hate and inflict pain.

My mom finally divorced him about a year later. She gave him until June 15th to pack and leave. The 14th was a saturday, he decided to leave then. My mom went with her sisters to do their weekly cooking for their parents. I went to a friends house down the street and my sister stayed to help him pack.

I came back to the house several hours later to grab a video game to play at my friends house. What I found was my sister screaming on the floor at the end of the hall, her shirt torn half off and him standing over her. I slammed him into the wall and dragged my sister up, told her to get the hell out. He had gotten back up by then. I took a fighting stance and he started laughing he said, "Ohh well, I figured I'd taste your sister before I left. Guess not, maybe I'll do you like I do your mom instead. Tie you up and gag you and see if I can make your *** bleed."

I kicked him then, right in the knee, and he went down. I kept kicking him till both of my feet hurt. I couldn't kick him anymore but I still wanted to punish him. He'd just tried to rape my sister, threatened to rape me and admitted that he had been raping my mom for years. That was when I thought of my dad and his belt. I took my step fathers belt off of him then and started whipping him with the buckle, screaming at him to get out go away the whole time. I had already dislocated his knee, I made him crawl to his van slashing at him with the belt the whole time. I don't know how he actually managed to drive away, but he did as soon as he got himself into the seat.

After he turned the corner I started back into the house and saw the trail of blood. There were bits of meat here and there. I looked at the blood soaked belt in my hand then and vomited. I thought about what I had just done and decided I was no better than he was. I had enjoyed letting the hate boil up. Hurting him while he couldn't fight back felt good. I couldn't live with that, I couldn't be like him. So I got a rope and climbed the tree in the back yard. I had everything tied up when the police arrived. I had waited a bit, I think I wanted witnessess. They came into the yard guns drawn. I pointed out front and said "I did that" and jumped. The rope snapped, I was cuffed and put in the squad car til my mom got home.

My mom took me home after 72 hours in the phsych ward. She and my sister had been at my aunts, because my sis refused to go into our house if I wasn't there to protect her. I almost hated her for that. When we got home I found a note from him pinned to my door of my room with a knife. It said, "You are a man now, enjoy the blood. J." My mom called the police. They came and searched the house and found he had set several nasty traps for my sister in her room, and slughtered all of the rabbits we raised and poured the blood on my bed. For my mom he drew a picture of a woman bent over and gagged on her bathroom mirror. underneath it said 'remember me.'

They put out an APB on him for attempted murder and rape. Told my mom to get us counseling, and left us alone after that. I never even had to go to court over it, the DA told my mom it was obviously temporary insanity and perfectly understandable. Besides they didn't want to file anything and drag my sis and I into court and make things worse. The insanity was very close to not being temporary.

Crud, y'know writing this out now, I realize he always knew exactly what I am and used it against me. He was a trained phsychiatrist after all. "Lots of bad words, lots and lots!"

I know I am not a monster, but remembering this I feel like one. I didn't stop when my sis was safe. I could have run away with her, but I didn't. I let the hate take over, I became the monster for a while at least. I have to make myself realize I didn't stay there but it is not always easy. It makes me laugh when people say "Don't be a hater." They don't even know what it means. Just like my mom and sister don't understand why I get upset when they call me 'Their Hero'.

Well, I can't say I feel better just yet. Maybe I will later.

Elena

[JJ]

You went through horrific abuse and rage is the inevitable result of that. What you did was done in rage-and they were right-rage can cause temporary insanity. The chemical changes in your body take over. Not to mention that you were a child.

As far as rage taking over-it's something you hear about every day-where some good cop suddenly snaps and beats someone to death. Or a motorist kills someone in a fit of road rage. Those cases almost always involve a life threatening situation preceding it. Because a primal survival or protection instinct kicks in and dumps these powerful chemicals in your system and they take over.

That does not make you the monster those men were. Anything but. What they did was not done in rage or fear or after you and your sister subjected then to torture. It was done in cold blood. It was done knowing what they were doing and in control. That makes the difference. That is why they are monsters. It is instinctive to try to destroy what tries to destroy us. You actually held back more than I think you realize.

So forgive yourself. What happened was due to human nature and physiology. Also you had the ability to kill him that day and did not. You were giving back what you had gotten without realizing how bad it was. the physical release felt good. Perfectly natural and normal reaction.

And that hurt and horrified child is very likely still inside in need of love and comfort. Please forgive yourself and love the bravery of that child for what was done that day. Because it took a lot to stop him And because the real monster wasn't killed.

You are a lovable person. I promise. And you will never act in rage again.

Hugs

Johnny

[Guest Elena]

Thank you Johnny, I know all that. I really do, doesn't make the memories any more pleasant. This has just kept poking it's head back up after so many years... It's not fun, and realizing I am going to have to go thru it all again to sort out the feminine half that I was hiding so hard back then. Well that is gonna be even less fun.

Huggs back at ya,

Elena

[Guest Julie T]

Elena

Oh my dear girl, what a horror story. I was amazed at the violence at the first, but after I thought about it and continued to read? I was amazed you survived, I mean physically survived. He was going to rape you and he most likely was going to kill you. Your action was more than temporary insanity, in my estimate. It was self defense and it was in the form of a preemptive strike. Don't you think your rage saved your life? It may have saved your sister's life too.

But I want to address the psychological damage for a minute. You have obviously had a chance to work through this with your therapist, right? And the rage? Well, that was then. Don't you think it was a rather isolated thing? I suggest you have had a lifetime so far to become adult and to become as close as you can to resolution. Maybe the rage is gone, and you just fear it may come back? Maybe you are really okay.

And my father consistently beat me with belts, and what he called switches, using a nasty and possibly sadistic means of doing it. It was life altering for me, but I survived. I guess the point is I never forgot, but I learned to let it go as much as I could. What other choice do we have?

Julie

[Guest Elena]

Hi Elena,

We read so many stories of abuse and how the perp gets away cleanly. But, even though you came out on top, it's not much help. What a horrific thing to live through! My heart goes out to you and your family!

I was the victim of abuse, and, in turn, expressed rage in ways that make me shudder now. I know that fear you speak of: When will it be sparked again?

Time has helped alot - but it still simmered... Two years ago, I was helped dramatically by my therapist. I do feel like some of those old open wounds are finally healed. I'm glad you're bringing this up in therapy. May you find the calm of healing!

Love, Kat

No it wasn't much help at all, it was the worst day of my life. I never saw it as coming out on top. Six months of suicide watch and intensive therapy finally got me coping with it; and it was about a year before I stopped thinking I was the monster.

[Guest Karo-chan]

What the (hell)?

Edited June 28, 2011 by Carolyn Marie
More acceptable word substituted for a word not permitted

[Guest Elena]

...

But I want to address the psychological damage for a minute. You have obviously had a chance to work through this with your therapist, right? And the rage? Well, that was then. Don't you think it was a rather isolated thing? I suggest you have had a lifetime so far to become adult and to become as close as you can to resolution. Maybe the rage is gone, and you just fear it may come back? Maybe you are really okay.

...

I'm sorry Julie, I respect most every thing I have read from you and I have been lurking here off and on for a couple years. This I feel is inappropriate though. If I was sharing this with my therapist within a doctor patient relationship the response would be appropriate.

There is undeniable wisdom in your comments. Your approach is what I find offensive. It makes me feel like you are telling me what truths I am supposed to find within myself. I do not believe it is in keeping with the nature or spirit of these forums. I reopened an old wound, to wash it out and and explore what I need to help it heal more cleanly. I feel like you just tried to cauterize it without any concern for whether that it what the wound needs.

Please, please, don't do that. A hot iron may stop the bleeding, but it leaves it's own scar. Blood and fire are both sacred and cleansing but I don't need the fire right now. If you are in a place where you need the fire I can understand that, but please be careful what you touch with it. It can hurt as well as heal.

So sorry, I have loved seeing what you have to say.

Elena