Having had the go ahead from the surgeon to undertake the trip to the Amazon, I now needed to plan it.
I decided to go with Randall Adventure Training for my trip to the the Amazon. They’re an American company and are globally recognised as being one of the best jungle survival training companies in the world.
I called my friend Guy, who I met on the Arctic survival course and asked if he fancied a trip to the Amazon, “Yes!” he replied, so we booked our places and went for it.
Mike and Jeff who run the company are hugely experienced and have travelled and explored much of South America.
This really was a survival course, we took no food, no water, no spare clothes or shelter. We had a fantastic time; it was a real challenge and I couldn’t believe I was there! In the Amazon! Only 2 years ago I could hardly walk and now I was chopping my way through the jungle.
At the end of the 10 day course, I had literally hundreds of bites, in fact, the instructors had never seen anyone bitten so much and my back appeared in an American survival magazine! What fame! I put it down to having British blood, so much more appealing than American.
There were many highlights, seeing and holding a boa and a sloth, building jungle beds, firelighting in the torrential rain, learning to use a machete, drinking from a water vine, seeing a myriad of insects, “simply” experiencing the jungle and while floating down the Amazon, on our personal homemade rafts, having fresh water dolphins come up and swim along side us.
But, what I truly learnt from this course, is to say “yes” to things that come your way, and…not to simply wait for those things to happen, but to make them happen! I could have put so many barriers and reasons for not going; my mental health, my abuse, my spinal injury, money, time away from work and family. I took a huge leap of faith and had a wonderful and life changing experience.
I am blessed with having a really supportive wife, family and colleagues, who rather than put obstacles in the way, encouraged me to go (but, maybe they really just needed a break from me! 🙂 ).
People ask me what is the thing I find most scary and frightening on expeditions; the answer is simple; the flying. I simply hate flying.
I am delighted that through my work, I have been able to go on to use these experiences and talk to community groups and schools and show that you do not need to be super human to undertake these types of challenges and hopefully inspire other people to follow their dreams.
The surgery on my back was more complex than first planned and the operation took over 8 hours.
It was a bit of a roller coaster for the next few days; pain control medication was chopped and changed and I was fitted for a corset which I wore daily for the next 3 months. The OT’s had me walking the day after the operation and going up and down stairs the day after.
The operation was a success. I needed to do daily exercises and keep to a sensible amount of exercise, but in less than 6 months I was virtually pain free and was sledging in the snow with my 2 boys.
There has been irreparable nerve damage; I have a degree of numbness in my left leg and occasional pain in my hip, but I cannot thank Mr Blackman enough for such a phenomenal success; it was far beyond what I could have ever imagined or hoped for.
It seems strange now, that just after having such a positive result with the operation that I went into a deep depression about what I had not achieved during my life. This lasted several months, but I was not going to let this new opportunity go; I needed to do something that I had always wanted to do and started thinking about all the places I wanted to visit or the things I wanted to achieve.
I was very aware that I needed to let my back heal properly and that the convalescent period was 2 years. On my last appointment with my surgeon, I asked him if he felt it was okay for me to go to the Amazon jungle to undertake a survival course.
“Yes”, was his answer.
(Sorry for the lateness in updating the blog, had an illness in the family).
The cost of mental health problems to the economy in England is estimated to be £105 billion a year.
Centre for Mental Health (2011), The Economic and Social Costs of Mental Health Problems in 2009/10.
Greenpath Ventures (GV) works with many professionals and organisations, who simply “get it!”; being outside and involved with nature is good for both your mental and physical health. Here’s some further information to confirm it! MIND Ecotherapy.
However, it’s also very sad to say, the idea of offering people with mental health issues the opportunity to undertake bushcraft is not meet with enthusiasm on all sides! When we first started out and people asked what the individuals would be doing on our bushcraft days, and I explained; “firelighting, foraging, learning to use cutting tools, archery and maybe even shooting”, quite a few professionals were very skeptical and sometimes even hostile.
Here’s an example of some of the things that were said to me:
“The activities are too dangerous for them; you can’t let mental patients use knives and fire”
“They have a history of arson, so don’t show them how to start fires”
“We (as in the clinical staff) are responsible for them, they can’t come, they may have an accident”
“We (as in the clinical staff) have to look after them and ensure they are safe”
“They self harm, so shouldn’t be shown how to use knives or axes”
“They have mental health problems, what would happen if people heard they had been shooting airguns?”
Now, I do understand some of the concerns and the reasoning behind some of these statements; I tried to explain that everything we did was under supervision and that we carried out risk assessments for every session, but sadly in the minds of some professionals, clients with mental health issues could not be trusted enough to attend our courses.
This smacks to me of sheer blatant discrimination against adults who actually have “mental capacity”!
Everyone has the right to make his or her own decisions. Health and care professionals should always assume an individual has the capacity to make a decision themselves, unless it is proved otherwise through a capacity assessment.
Individuals must be given help to make a decision themselves. This might include, for example, providing the person with information in a format that is easier for them to understand.
Just because someone makes what those caring for them consider to be an “unwise” decision, they should not be treated as lacking the capacity to make that decision. Everyone has the right to make their own life choices, where they have the capacity to do so.
The clients wanted to come, we were having fantastic feedback and the outcomes were exactly what clinicians would want. People were saying they felt responsible and trusted, it was improving their confidence & self-esteem and their mental health was improving. Regularly, people were saying our courses should be offered by the NHS as they were helping so much. How awful, that regardless of all these positives, people were often being denied the opportunity to attend because of the preconceived ideas of some health care professionals. So much for all the hyperbole of “client led services”.
This also smacks, to me, of encouraging “learnt helplessness”; when clients were on our courses professionals would continue to treat them as incapable of looking after themselves, telling them to put their jackets on because it was raining. How was this approach helping people learn to become more responsible for themselves? People were often being treated as helpless and this is itself disempowering. Very simply; we treated people like adults and they responded as adults.
Nevertheless, GV was on a role! Including going into schools we were working with over 1,000 people per year, everything was going well. We had been members of ATTEND, from our very beginning and we were invited to be a showcase project at their AGM at Westminster Palace, London.
Funders and partners were describing our charity as “visionary” and “inspirational”.
Unfortunately, I was about to get some bad news which would dramatically affect GV.
Sexual abuse statistics vary between countries and reports, but are consistently alarming: Research indicates that up to 36% of girls and 29% of boys have suffered child sexual abuse; up to 46% girls and 20% boys have experienced sexual coercion.
(The 57th session of the UN Commission on Human Rights)
We left London with a huge sense of relief, moving away would give us the chance to start again without many of the old ghosts.
I secured a role working for the NHS in administration and also became a volunteer on a crisis helpline.
I remember being interviewed for the telephone role and I was asked if I had any personal history of mental health. I began explaining what had happened, “I don’t understand why any child would keep abuse a secret”, was my interviewers response. “Wow!” Not a great start I thought. Thankfully, this person was the exception and my colleagues on the helpline were a tremendous group of people.
Shortly after this I saw an article in the local paper regarding a community group looking for volunteers to help with a support group for adult survivors.
The group was called, HEAL (Helping Everyone Abused Live) and was kindly given the use of a room by the local MIND. At that time it may have been the first and only group in the UK to work with men and women together, regardless of the the type of abuse suffered. I called, an interview was arranged and I was taken on.
HEAL, Helping Everyone Abuse Live
The first meeting was very memorable, I was the only man in the room with about 5 women and was viewed with a huge amount of suspicion and even a little hostility. “Why do you want to volunteer?”; I was challenged immediately, when I said that I had been abused myself, the atmosphere changed completely. “It must have been worse for you, being a man” was the response. “Not worse, but maybe different”, I responded.
HEAL offered a weekly support group where people came and shared what was happening with them and how they felt. For a number of reasons, the Co-ordinator left and we held a crisis meeting. It was put to me; “Unless you can take it on, the group will have to fold”. I had never trained in group work or led many sessions, but couldn’t see these survivors left with no support, so I took on the role.
The first thing I did was to ask the members what they wanted and needed.They felt the weekly support group was not working and that they wanted to have some direction and focus to the sessions. Jointly, we set up a monthly schedule, with different activities such as discussion groups on topics decided on by the members. Over time this gradually developed into more and more structured workshops and the open support group was actually dropped by the members themselves.
We struggled with low numbers for sometime, then suddenly, numbers began to increase and at times we would not have enough chairs, with people needing to sit on tables. Now men came as well and we were working at maximum capacity.
We needed to make the decision to expand. We became a registered charity, secured more funding and opened our own premises.
Tudor House, the home of HEAL
Momentum continued to gather; we were now also actively involved in training staff from other agencies in working with survivors.We went from one group a week to four, which included a drop in, a Carers/Supporters Group and a Creative group, which culminated in having our own exhibition.
We now had a 2 year waiting list to join our groups, with nearly 120 people on it at anyone time.
HEAL Creative Exhibition, Colchester 2006
HEAL Creative Exhibition, Colchester 2006
…and paraphrasing, the immortal words of Ernie Wise, here’s a poem “what I wrote” for the exhibition:
Personally, my life was also about to change, as I discovered I was going to be a father!
Worldwide, approximately 40 million children below the age of 15 are subjected to child abuse each year.
(World Health Organization (WHO) 2001)
I started training to become a therapist, but felt a fraud. Could someone as damaged as I had been really become a counsellor or psychotherapist? The old feelings of not being good enough started to creep back in and undermine me. Despite all the positive feedback I had from the tutors I had nagging doubts which I took to my counsellor. He said he saw the qualities I needed in me and that even if I couldn’t trust myself, maybe, I could trust the trust others had in me. So I borrowed that for a while and continued.
I felt I needed to talk to one of my tutors openly about my reservations and doubts about myself. I disclosed my abuse and ongoing battle with the depression and OCD. The tutor said these issues should not prevent me becoming a therapist and that he had had the same history and conditions. For a while a huge weight was taken off my shoulders, I could do this I started to say to myself. I completed my 2 year Psychotherapy Certificate with a merit.
The doubts remained; I felt I needed more training and continued adding one more course after another. Always dismissing the last one I had obtained, “If I had managed to get it, then it couldn’t be that good or useful” I kept telling myself. The ruminations of self-doubt and lack of self-belief continued to haunt me. I had proven time and time again that I was capable of passing academic and vocational training, why then did this self-doubt persist?
I feel this is one of the more insidious aspects of abuse, the ongoing lack of innate core self-belief & self-value and not placing any value in what you achieve. Always striving for something external to provide that recognition or affirmation that you are achieving or are “good enough”.
I sincerely hope the above does not simply sound like me whining away; the reality for many survivors is that these negative core beliefs continue to operate long after the abuse has finished. They have become part of our identity. We have held onto them for years and they were instrumental in our development into adulthood.
My counselling had come to an end and had helped me enormously, but now I needed more than ever to take what I had learnt from that process, live it, believe it and continue to claw back everything that had been taken away from me.
I had believed that completing the counselling would have meant completely recovering from abuse and that I would have no issues left. What I hadn’t appreciated was that I would need to continue with the battles for many more years. There was more work to do and it seemed that many of the issues would only be dealt with through time and perseverance. I also came to the conclusion that recovery doesn’t flow in the one positive direction; you bounce back and forward, from victim to survivor to thriver to victim.
This is true for everyone, regardless of being abused or not; everyone has victim days;
“Why did I chose this shopping aisle?…. The other ones are always faster” “Why is it always the motorway lane that I’m in that gets congested?” “This always happens to me!”.
I often use the following diagram to see what voice is talking in my head.
It was during this period that it became clearer to me and my girlfriend that we were not happy at all living in London, I was still bumping into old friends (and their habits), it was the right time for us to move away and rebuild our lives.
“Research continues to indicate a concerning number of children and youth, between 60–80%, withhold disclosure until adulthood suggesting that many children endure prolonged victimization or never receive necessary intervention.” Ramona Alaggia, 2010.
My plan of 6 weeks of counselling, fell apart very quickly.
It was only when someone had been willing to listen to me that I realised just how much I needed to talk. The first 6 weeks flashed by and we had the review; both my counsellor and myself agreed to continue for as long as I required.
I cannot stress enough just how important it was to my recovery to be in control of how long I needed. So often now counselling is time limited, often JUST 6 weeks. This approach is so dis-empowering, immediately the survivor has the control taken from them and they are once again faced with little or no choice and control.
I know resources are limited, but to ask victims of abuse to open up and reach some level of resolution with such limited interaction is almost always asking too much. I also know that many services are unable to offer longer due to rationing, but there must be a better way. I am also often puzzled why people come up with arbitrary number of weeks, why 6, 10 or 12 weeks? Recovery for survivors MUST be led by them,recovery is about EMPOWERMENT and that means giving the victim CHOICE, CONTROL and POWER over their own future.
I was warned by my counsellor that things often get worse before they get better during the process and he was right. Revisiting the abuse opened me up more than I could have ever imagined.
Flashbacks increased. For those of you who are unaware, flashbacks are not just recalling memories, it’s much more like reliving them, you are not in the present, but back in the actual abuse. I also recovered more memories of being violated and that indecent photos had been taken of me. How had these been used? Who had seen them? Where were they shown? Just how much more there was to come I just did not know or if I could cope.
The old defence mechanisms started to kick in; minimizing the abuse and it’s effects. I tried to rationalise the past; “I had deserved what had happened”, but my counsellor would not relent; he threw challenge after challenge at me. “What would I say to another victim who had said the same thing?”…”Why then am I saying something different to myself?”.
What became clear was that my abuse and therefore my abuser was still in control of my life and that I was still living in fear and as a victim.
I can recall very easily a piece of homework I was given:
“I want you to do something nice for yourself”, the Counsellor said.
“Okay, I can do that”, my reply.
“…now the tricky part..”, my Counsellor continued”…not because I’ve asked you, but just because you’re worth it and for no other reason.”
I went back the following week having been unable to do it. I didn’t deserve anything, simply for the reason I felt worthless and was full of self loathing; I even despised the child I had been and thought of him as pathetic and weak.
I desperately needed to give back the responsibility and the blame to the abuser. The guilt I had carried for the abuse was notmine, it was his. The shame I had been carrying for all these years, was not mine it washis .
As this process went on, the anger at being burdened with these issues and the injustice grew, I struggled with these feelings, they seemed overwhelming. In the past I had released or suppressed them with drinking/drugs or self-harming, but I was no longer willing to use these strategies and I wanted and needed to face these demons.
I didn’t realise it, but thanks to the the counselling, I was beginning to gain self-worth for the first time. I hadn’t deserved the abuse; what was done to me, was wrong.
My counsellor helped me understand that the “little me”, the abused child, had done the very best he could at the time, with what he had and that rather than hate him, he needed my love and understanding. “What would you say to him now, if you had him standing in front of you?”, my Counsellor asked. I collapsed into tears of sadness and pride at the courage that little boy had shown; protecting his own Mother, Father and family from the truth and in carrying the burden of the abuse all on his own, for so long.
This was a time of great confusion, all the old messages and lies I had been living with no longer rang true. What was I left with? It challenged my actual identity; if I was no longer going to be a victim of abuse, who was I?
I do not remember how or where I stumbled across the details about SurvivorsUK, I think it may have been trawling through the Yellow Pages.
I do remember calling them and speaking to a female volunteer who actually listened and invited me to call back. After a couple of calls, I was asked if I’d be interested in one to one counselling or group work with them. After all my previous attempts had been shot down and had my experiences minimized by the professionals, I wasn’t sure if my abuse had been bad enough or if I was really that much in need of help.
We arranged for me to visit one of their co-ordinators to discuss what options would be available. Everything seems so blurry now; people really caring about the abuse, listening to me and wanting to help….why had it taken over 15 years and so much effort for someone to finally take me seriously? Was it too good to be true, would these people also let me down? I was filled with fear and anxiety at the prospect of opening up again, but went along anyway…what had I got to lose?
I met the co-ordinator who was very relaxed and open, he thought group work wouldn’t be a good option for me at this time and that I would benefit from individual counselling and he had the very person in mind.
I met my prospective counsellor for an assessment on both sides. He was completely frank and honest with me, explained that he was also a survivor and gay, I was asked if that would be an issue for me as my abuser had been a man. I could not believe it, I was being asked and given choices. I had no problem, felt at ease with him and the counselling started. It would be for an initial 6 weeks then a review, there would be no cost and I could go along as long as I felt I needed.
I had thought a great deal about the issues I would need to address; anger, guilt, fear, loss. It would take me about 6 weeks to get through that lot I thought, so that would be okay.
Those who have experienced serious childhood trauma such as physical, emotional or sexual abuse may have twice the rate of cancer, heart disease and chronic bronchitis than those who have not had such trauma.Dr Ron Acierno, Behavioural Medicine, 1997: 23 (2) pp53-64
Self Harm ~
79% of people who self-harmed had histories of childhood trauma.Van der Kolk et al. 1991 & Robert Anda, “Adverse Childhood Experiences”, American Journal of Preventative Medicine, 1998: 14 pp245-258
Adults who experienced childhood abuse are 12 times more likely to attempt suicide than those who did not.Vincent Fellitti
People often ask me “Didn’t your Mum and Dad know about the truancy or the drinking or drug taking?” One skill that abuse gives you is the ability to keep secrets and hide feelings; I had hidden sexual abuse from 8 years of age, hiding the drinking, drugs, truancy and mental illness was a doddle. I had even learnt how to forge letters; no one had ever picked up on the forged letters and signatures to and from school!
The drinking had begun in my mid-teens during the truancy and I had some good times; I think I must have been among the top tipsy visitors to the free museums in London and regularly visited the British, Geffrye and London. I would spend hours walking around central London and if I had chosen a career as a Black Taxi Cab Driver I would have had a head start with “The Knowledge!”
In my previous update, I told how I had tried to get help from the NHS and had been totally let down, now I sought help from another source.
My family had always been Church goers, in fact my brother, who I’m very proud of and close to, is a Minister and Team Leader in the Midlands. Surely, I thought I would get some resolution and understanding of the abuse through the church. I had myself been going regularly for several years and had a period of relative stability, I had even managed to get to college and clawed some “O” levels together. Before long, the “old demons” began playing their mind games again. This time I would seek help from the Church rather than the health service, I expected more empathy and understanding than previously experienced.
With a huge amount of fear I disclosed my abuse to a senior Minister, his angry response…”You’re making too much of it, you need to pull your socks up!”….almost word for word the same as the GP. My second attempt to a female minister, rare at that time, and her officious response; “I think you’re making excuses for your behaviour and making far too much of it”.
Again, my abusers words came back to me, “…no one will believe you, you’re making too much of it” and once again, he had been proven correct. Well, if he had abused me because I was too nice and what he had said before was true it was time to change. So I thought, out with the nice guy and trying to seek help, instead I became the archetypal angry young man; resentful, fearful and looked for refuge in drinking and drug taking.
It was shortly after this that my father was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer.
Up until the abuse I had been my father’s shadow and had been inseparable from him. One of the worst results of the abuse for me was the irreversible damage it did to my relationship with my father. It began with my utter shock and disbelief that neither my father nor mother could see what was happening and come to my rescue. Surely they were my protectors and should have known and be able to see what was happening week in, week out, when I was sent to stay with the the abuser each weekend. The second result, and perhaps worst, was when I first disclosed to my family.
One evening I crept into my older brothers bedroom and told him I had a secret and that he couldn’t tell anyone. As soon as I had finished telling him what was happening, he said he had to tell, he did exactly what I had prayed and hoped for. We went to my mother, who said we needed to tell my father. We were a traditional family and dad was the head of our household.
I was a nervous wreck, shaking and quivering, I told my dad what had happened. “Are you sure?” he asked, “You must be mistaken, ***** wouldn’t possibly do something like that”. My world collapsed, never before or since, even during the very worst of the abuse, had I felt so alone and abandoned. At that one moment my relationship with my father was changed forever and we would only really bridge that gulf on his deathbed…but, even so, I am so thankful we did.
It would take me years of therapy and also becoming a father myself to understand why my dad had responded the way he did. The abuser, had not just sexually abused me, he had abused my father’s trust, my mother and father, my family and all those who placed faith in him. I can now understand and appreciate that the last thing you want to believe and hear is that your child has been sexually abused. You would prefer to think the child had simply made a mistake, you would prefer to believe the trust you had placed in another person to take care of your child had not been cruelly abused and your own judgement of a person who claimed to be a dear friend was correctly placed.
Now the drinking and drug taking became out of control and by my early twenties I was both an alcoholic and drug addict caught up in a vicious spiral of uppers and downers. I would take speed to get me up in the morning and to the pub. The added bonus of speed meant I could drink even more – the down side, I couldn’t sleep and so needed to take other drugs to sedate me. This cycle went on and on for several years damaging both my mental and physical health. I became more paranoid, aggressive and had dramatic mood swings, I developed major kidney pain, heart palpitations and lost a huge amount of weight.
I went to the doctor who sent me for an ECG and echo-graph of my heart, the nurse asked me if I was an athlete as I had an enlarged heart muscle which was usually found in high performance athletes. In fact it was a result of taking the speed for so long and putting so much strain on my heart.
The self-harming that had begun during the actual abuse escalated dramatically during my teens. It had begun with head and face butting walls, I now punched walls and objects and broke a knuckle. At that time I also cut myself and to this day I do not sun bathe, I avoid swimming and taking my shirt off in public due to the scars I have on my stomach. I began to put myself into more and more potentially dangerous situations in attempts to self-destruct.
My drinking and drug taking was out of control and I was on a course of destruction that was clearly the result of the abuse, I had sought help numerous times and been either refused, ridiculed or dismissed as self-indulgent or attention seeking. I did not know where to turn or what to do, I had finally resigned myself to living with the guilt, the shame and self-loathing that was my life.
National Commission of Enquiry into the Prevention of Child Abuse, October 1996
One million children are abused in some way each year, 50% of those abused (now adults) never reported the abuse.
In 67% of cases the abuse started before the age of 11years.
In 50% of cases the abuse lasted 2-18 years.
Unfortunately, my own story is so, so similar to that of many other victims of child abuse.
Aged about 10 years old, photo taken by my abuser
My sexual abuse started when I was 8 years old and went on for the next 5 years. It was only disclosed to my own family and the perpetrator was never prosecuted.
My abuser, photo taken by me at Beachy Head
The person who abused me was a senior civil servant, my father’s supervisor, highly regarded in the literary world, public school educated, wealthy; a “model” of respectability.
The results of the abuse took many forms;
Education and Leaving School
I went from being in many top sets at school to almost complete truancy, many of my teachers didn’t even recognise me when I occasionally “popped in” for a look around to see what was going on. The result was I left school with one “O” level in Art and that was only because I turned up for the exam and knocked out a drawing on the day.
The ’80’s in the UK was a time of high unemployment, and with no real qualifications I simply went on the dole for the next 2 years while I battled my declining mental health.
My mental health problems started during the abuse.
The deepening anxiety meant I began to develop Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) around 9 years of age and this progressed throughout my teens and early twenties, sometimes it would take me 2-3 hours to get outside the door after checking and rechecking every door, window, gas tap and light switch numerous times. One thing that many people who do not suffer from OCD don’t appreciate is, that it is not just the physical rituals that are debilitating, you also have ruminations and mental rituals which are just as crippling; reciting number sequences or going over and over what you have done and trying to remember every sequence of a day, absolutely convinced you have done something terribly wrong or forgotten something of major importance.
The depression began when I was in my mid teens and at 16, I finally summoned enough courage to seek professional help and went to see my GP. I remember very clearly being petrified about talking about what had happened and fearing not being believed. With a dry mouth, I opened up to my doctor, who listened for about a minute and then told me;
“Pull your socks up and get on with your life, all this happened to you in your childhood and you should be over it by now”.
At that moment everything the abuser had told me came true. He had said that no one would listen or believe me and that I was making too much of it. If he was right about that, then logic told me he was right about all the rest; I had deserved the abuse and it was my fault. The reason my abuser gave me for the abuse was that I was “too nice”, “too innocent” and “too trusting”, he had done it for my own good, to help me become more worldly.
The depression continued to worsen and at 18 I was put under a psychiatrist for depression and anxiety. This professional was supposed to be very good and highly competent, she asked me was there anything I needed to tell her, I explained about the abuse in a very quick and off hand way.
She asked me, “Do you think it has affected you?” “No” I replied, testing her to see if she would challenge me and not allow me to get away with it. “Then just forget about it” was her response.
Shortly after I took an overdose.
When she came to see me in hospital, she was very surprised, “What are you doing here, I thought you were doing really well”, she said. I stopped seeing her soon after and found an alternative way to deal with the effects of the abuse.
The next blog, will look at my drinking and drug addiction.
I’ve resisted for a long time to go really public about my own experiences of surviving child sexual abuse. Not because of shame, guilt or unresolved issues, but more because I wanted to protect my nearest and dearest from these issues and how other people would react. It is very sad, that even today, being a VICTIM of abuse does make a difference on how people relate and react to you.
Well my kids are now more grown up and my wife, Yvonne knows all about the abuse and has been through my recovery with me. I discussed with my two teenage sons about going public and if they felt comfortable with me doing it. Independently of each other they both said; “If it can help other people you should do it”. I was so proud of them.
I do not want this blog to be me writing about how damaged I am or about how bad my abuse was. What I want to do is give people hope….and there is always hope, that with the right support and help, you can recover from the trauma of child abuse.
So the £64,000 question (or $64,000 for any Americans out there!); what is recovery? When I use that term, I do not mean forgetting or necessarily forgiving, I do not mean never feeling sad or unhappy again. For me, recovery is reclaiming my life and taking back control and making the very best of what I have and accepting life “warts and all” (Oliver Cromwell).
Another reason for this blog is that there are simply not enough resources, stories or coverage on male abuse; I just hope I can help a little in addressing this issue. So for those who are interested, my next post will be the beginning of my story.
If this blog can help just one person, then it would have fulfilled it’s purpose.