by Michael

Liberation is a good word to describe what I felt. My life, my story, my depression, drug abuse, sex abuse, suicidal thoughts and attempts, everything just started flowing. Of course, there weren’t any tears as those dried up years ago but as the clinician asked me more about my life and RAD the more apparently interested she seemed to become.

We talked for over 3 and half hours of my problems in life and that wasn’t even the half of it. As the person delved more into my life, she seems awfully surprised that I had accomplished the things I have in my life considering the amount of damage that was done to me as a child and a young adult. She was amazed when I said:

“I would happily give my life to bring back the animals I killed”. A RAD Adult that developed a sense of remorse. Almost unheard of. Well, I am living proof that change is possible. If a piece of sh*t like me is capable of feeling something, anything with a battle of RAD, ANYONE can.

We talked alot about the sexual experiences that I had that I could remember which was a babysitter at the age of 9. The therapist believes that much more sexual abuse happened much earlier because I describe in graphic detail what happened with my babysitter.

**Below is extremely graphic, so I recommend that you read with caution or you skip it completely as it is a detailed account of my first known sexual experience with a caregiver.**

I remember the babysitter lying on her side making out with me. Don’t ask me how I knew what I was doing, but I definetly did. I groped her breasts and she continued to kiss me. She told my brother to head off to bed and I knew what was going to happen.
We continued to kiss and and one point I had her top off, but she wouldn’t let me take her bra off and I wanted to. I wanted to take her jeans off but alas, she wouldn’t let me. I don’t know why she wouldn’t let me do this but that was fine in my book.

I also remember going upstairs with her and continued the makeout session. more groping of course. She never really “touched” me. I seemed to do all the work and ironically it was like I was a robot. I knew exactly what to do, when to do it and how, I just didn’t understand the ramifications and the emotional attachments to sex. All I knew was I was enjoying making out with this topless blonde. Even at 9 years old it was a challenge trying to convince her to take her jeans off. I remember putting my hand on the button of her jeans and she pushed my hand away while still kissing me. It made no sense.

Eventually night ended and I headed off to sleep.

I told my readers that story to exercise a point. I was a sexual robot at the age of 9 years old. The issues surrounding that and many other sexual experiences I had as a young child already programmed into my brain told me I was good for one thing and one thing only. The other experiences I had with female teachers, babysitters and others were a pervasive and very profound experience in my life.
We talked about why I killed my sister’s cat and made her life hell for 18 years. It turns out she was my primary care giver when my adoptive parents were at work. When she left for Greece while I was still a child, I saw that as yet another abandonment, and I lashed out by killing her cat.

We talked about the animal killing, how my sister detests my existence. We talked about how much horror I put my poor family through and how many people I have hurt in many ways over the years. The therapist could see the true Mike coming out. The Mike that is still a child, that is still living in an existence of suspended animation.

We also talked about the inhalant abuse. The fact that I huffed paint thinner for 6 months of my life and started talking backwards. I had to learn how to speak all over again. We talked about the RTC that said I was magically cured once funding ran out.
We also talked alot about my life as a child and my adoption. Pretty much everything.

We talked alot about suicide attempts, both passive and real. We talked about how I tried to hang myself, but the belt I used broke.
She said a few things to me that I needed to hear. That I should be proud that I have survived. She told me that I have done some amazing things and have accomplished so much. To me, that’s moot.

I have to earn my families respect back. I have to earn the communities trust again. I have to accept no matter how much I love my sister she will never love me. I have to learn that my accomplishments, while meager to me may be inspiring change in others. I have to learn while I have done DEPLORABLE things to others, I can still repay them and MYSELF to the best of my abilities. I have to learn how to forgive myself.

The biggest insight that I had from that first meeting however, was the following:

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