Re: Desperate to be a Eunuch
Posted: Mon Jul 21, 2008 4:59 pm
This is another examination into my life and a step towards mental health.
I was looking back on my life and was saddened by all the times I thought I was going to be murdered. I do not know if they truly would have carried through with it but the fear of the event was real. I do not know why people seemed to be excited about ending my life. I do know that eventually it became of interest to me. Later in my time of abuse threats of death were involved with sexual abuse and I think death became a sexual turn-on. Death would be the last orgasm in a manner of thinking. This may have fueled my sense of being disposable.
This maybe should not be included here since I have no memory of the event but it has been told many times in the family. I also do not know the persons intent. As a young child I was sitting on the steps and my sister came behind me with a brick in her hand. She hit me over the head with enough force that the brick shattered. She was the first born and maybe wanted to be an only child.
When I was 11 or 12 years old I was playing in a wooded area behind our home. A man or a boy in his late teens was walking through the woods and when he saw me he pinned me to a tree. Next he held a knife to my throat and threatened to kill me. I do not remember what happened before I was against the tree or what happened after since my memory is of the knife shining in the sun and my being pressed into the tree.
A school friend who was having emotional problems tried to strangle me because I had been talking to his girlfriend. He was hospitalized briefly and is a great friend today.
After high school many nights the phone would ring with death threats. This was in the days before calls could be traced easily. Even after a change to an unlisted number the threats continued. I wondered if it was someone who pretended to be a friend during the day or a friend of a sibling.
Then of course I met my long-term abuser. I became so used to a knife or gun during sex I would wonder if it would become a fetish. His threats of my death started as a promise if I disclosed what he was doing with me. After the first rape and things became more violent I would be held at gunpoint with the gun pressing against my forehead. He would also call to tell me there was a bomb in the car. Another way I might die.
During those long years of abuse I tried to find a good man. It seems I just found more abusers. Two more men planned to kill me. One was leaving the area and said he would miss me but he was interested in finding out what it would be like to kill someone. He told me this after going to a park for a goodbye lunch. I wondered why we went to such a deserted place. Well I did some quick talking and got out of that situation. The other person who planned my death had no impulse control when drunk and stoned. He confessed to me years later that one night when he and Eddy and I were cruising around they had planned on killing me. I remember him telling Eddy not now we will wreck and I thought Eddy was just going to do something silly. The plan was that when we found a place on a country road to pull over once we were parked Eddy was going to shoot me in the back of the head. They were bored and that was the most exciting thing they could think of that night. Luckily that when we finally parked Eddy had passed out.
I met a young man who was troubled that his mother late in life realized she was gay. He had a lot of anger and needed someone to talk to about it. We had several long conversations and he seemed to enjoy my company. He became curious about sex with a man and since I was still an addict I thought what the hell. One morning after working night shift I went to see him. When we were finished I drifted off to sleep. While sleeping he took a coat hanger and bent his initials into it. He heated his homemade brand in the flame of the gas stove and burnt his initials into my ass. I got dressed and left. He called and wanted me to stop by so he could apologize. He gave me a cold drink and after I drank it he told me he put poison in it. I left but did not know if I should go to the hospital since I worked there and tell them what happened. I decided to wait and see if I had any symptoms.
While working in the hospital someone was writing and painting in betadine death threats to me in the locker room where I went to change into my uniform. I reported the threats to the VP of nursing and she told me when you choose to be different you can expect those things. Needless to say I was very cautious leaving work for several months. I would get nervous each time a car would start as I walked across the lot. I kept a sharp eye on the surrounding medical offices. I would feel better in my car and always alternated my way home.
No one is more surprised than I that I am alive. To this day I am still hyper vigilant. I am a great get-away driver if I think someone is following me. I have to be careful where I am seated in restaurants so I do not feel trapped. Of course many of these issues disappear when I am out of the hometown. Now I will live long enough to die from natural causes and my own bad habits.
I was looking back on my life and was saddened by all the times I thought I was going to be murdered. I do not know if they truly would have carried through with it but the fear of the event was real. I do not know why people seemed to be excited about ending my life. I do know that eventually it became of interest to me. Later in my time of abuse threats of death were involved with sexual abuse and I think death became a sexual turn-on. Death would be the last orgasm in a manner of thinking. This may have fueled my sense of being disposable.
This maybe should not be included here since I have no memory of the event but it has been told many times in the family. I also do not know the persons intent. As a young child I was sitting on the steps and my sister came behind me with a brick in her hand. She hit me over the head with enough force that the brick shattered. She was the first born and maybe wanted to be an only child.
When I was 11 or 12 years old I was playing in a wooded area behind our home. A man or a boy in his late teens was walking through the woods and when he saw me he pinned me to a tree. Next he held a knife to my throat and threatened to kill me. I do not remember what happened before I was against the tree or what happened after since my memory is of the knife shining in the sun and my being pressed into the tree.
A school friend who was having emotional problems tried to strangle me because I had been talking to his girlfriend. He was hospitalized briefly and is a great friend today.
After high school many nights the phone would ring with death threats. This was in the days before calls could be traced easily. Even after a change to an unlisted number the threats continued. I wondered if it was someone who pretended to be a friend during the day or a friend of a sibling.
Then of course I met my long-term abuser. I became so used to a knife or gun during sex I would wonder if it would become a fetish. His threats of my death started as a promise if I disclosed what he was doing with me. After the first rape and things became more violent I would be held at gunpoint with the gun pressing against my forehead. He would also call to tell me there was a bomb in the car. Another way I might die.
During those long years of abuse I tried to find a good man. It seems I just found more abusers. Two more men planned to kill me. One was leaving the area and said he would miss me but he was interested in finding out what it would be like to kill someone. He told me this after going to a park for a goodbye lunch. I wondered why we went to such a deserted place. Well I did some quick talking and got out of that situation. The other person who planned my death had no impulse control when drunk and stoned. He confessed to me years later that one night when he and Eddy and I were cruising around they had planned on killing me. I remember him telling Eddy not now we will wreck and I thought Eddy was just going to do something silly. The plan was that when we found a place on a country road to pull over once we were parked Eddy was going to shoot me in the back of the head. They were bored and that was the most exciting thing they could think of that night. Luckily that when we finally parked Eddy had passed out.
I met a young man who was troubled that his mother late in life realized she was gay. He had a lot of anger and needed someone to talk to about it. We had several long conversations and he seemed to enjoy my company. He became curious about sex with a man and since I was still an addict I thought what the hell. One morning after working night shift I went to see him. When we were finished I drifted off to sleep. While sleeping he took a coat hanger and bent his initials into it. He heated his homemade brand in the flame of the gas stove and burnt his initials into my ass. I got dressed and left. He called and wanted me to stop by so he could apologize. He gave me a cold drink and after I drank it he told me he put poison in it. I left but did not know if I should go to the hospital since I worked there and tell them what happened. I decided to wait and see if I had any symptoms.
While working in the hospital someone was writing and painting in betadine death threats to me in the locker room where I went to change into my uniform. I reported the threats to the VP of nursing and she told me when you choose to be different you can expect those things. Needless to say I was very cautious leaving work for several months. I would get nervous each time a car would start as I walked across the lot. I kept a sharp eye on the surrounding medical offices. I would feel better in my car and always alternated my way home.
No one is more surprised than I that I am alive. To this day I am still hyper vigilant. I am a great get-away driver if I think someone is following me. I have to be careful where I am seated in restaurants so I do not feel trapped. Of course many of these issues disappear when I am out of the hometown. Now I will live long enough to die from natural causes and my own bad habits.
