I hurt for a long time because of childhood sexual abuse. Now I want to provide a safe place for hurting men to connect with other survivors of sexual abuse. Talk to us. You don't have to use your real name to share your experiences or ask questions.

I Wanted to Die

(Note from Cec: Lee Willis is going through deep, deep pain—and is beginning to heal. I hope you'll sense his agony. And some of you may remember your own.)

* * * * * * * * * *

My life is so messed up and there is so much pain that I wonder what several years of therapy ever did for me. I’m very good about controlling the fight inside of me. I came from a sexually and physically abusive home. I vowed when I got older that I would never drink, smoke, hit, or yell at my family. Luckily I don’t have those feelings to lash out. However, inside of me rages a war, a battle of such with myself. I just want to fight.

I remember being an older teen vowing that the next time my dad would beat up on my older sister I would intervene. It didn’t take long before the screams began and he was dragging her screaming and crying down the hall in a rage. His face was bright red and purple. I ran up the stairs and got between them and stopped it. So the consequence for my disrespectful action was to be shunned by my family including my sister with the lecture from my mom and sister on how horrible I was to my father. I didn’t care. I did it and it was awesome.

I went to therapy for years and know all of the jargon and phrases. I cried all the tears I think there are. I should feel peace. I just want to fight some invisible creature out there, grab it by the throat, and beat it to death. Sounds crazy, I know. Addiction doesn’t work any more either. It’s just a waste of time and energy. All of this has ruined my life.

I think if I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t have told anyone in my family. I became a social leper. I wish I could contact my family at times, but it’s no use. We all died once I opened my mouth. I thought I was helping by talking about it. I thought I could help others in my family. I don’t think just talking about it is a good idea. It doesn’t set you free, it just makes the pain and the shame worse.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...


You didn't do anything wrong when you told your family. They reacted badly because they have been sick, abusive and dysfunctional since you were a child, probably before you were even born.

Your instinct to tell was a healthy one and a healthy family would have survived and supported you. It is not your fault that your family is royally screwed up and it never was.

You may not believe this because you are in so much pain, but you are so much healthier and more evolved than they are.

I have told very few people about what happened to me because I am afraid that I may trust the wrong person and that he or she will use the information to hurt me even worse than I already have been. Or that they'll freak out and abandon me.

It's a perfectly rational fear, but I am trying not to let it rule my life and I hope you won't let it rule yours either.

I'm sorry your family can't give you the support you need but please don't give up on the whole human race. Give yourself some time to heal from this miserable experience and when you feel a little better you might want to think about telling someone else: someone you have known for a while: someone you know is kind and supportive.

Don't even broach the subject with people you know to be cruel or insensitive.

But there is no hurry. You have to do things in your own time.

I'm sorry you have been so badly hurt by your family and I hope that you will feel better soon.

And please let me reiterate: your family is at fault here. YOU ARE NOT AND YOU NEVER WERE.