I post sometimes to help myself, sometimes to help others but recently posting had taken a toll on me. I spent three days with my mind trapped in memories where I could not escape. They kept replaying through the day in my mind and at night my dreams were dreams of the past. The trigger to this was a couple of members stating rape is about sex and not power and control. I respect their opinions but in my thinking back to the days of rape I became trapped in that cycle of memories.
I post as a eunuch but most of my influences and outlooks are more based on being a victim/survivor. I had responded to another post where I began to second guess myself in the dark moods. I was always happy to achieve the status of eunuch. During those recent days I was wondering if I had not been so dissociated would I have felt depression. Was I so numb that I felt very little? Today I know that I was happy to become my true self. When my mind is not haunted I know this to be my truth. At the time of my castration I was plagued with the symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder and not depression due to castration.
At the risk of starting those dark days again and in my own thread I wanted to write about rape. My adult rape was at the hand of a man that I had been having sex with for a number of years. He certainly did not need to use fear and force to be satisfied. He called m
tugon (imported) wrote: Sun Feb 26, 2006 7:22 am
e one night because he was depressed
and needed to talk to someone. I am the type of person who needs to be needed. It was about 1am but I had the next day off from work. Someone needs me so off I ran to his house. I walked inside his house and he was smiling. I said I thought you were depressed? He said he was happy that I was willing to come over. We sat on the couch and he bent over, I thought, to tie his shoes. When he sat back up he had a revolver in his hand and stuck it against my temple and told me to drop my pants and lie on the couch.
The fear was incredible. For the past few years he was becoming more physically and verbally aggressive but I was not expecting this to happen. He climbed on top of me and forced himself inside. I felt tearing and a burning sensation. The whole time that damn gun kept banging into the side of my head. At one point I thought what was he going to do with me afterwards. Then I began to fear if his hand contracts during orgasm would he pull the trigger. The next thing I knew is I was floating someplace warm and was not afraid. Until of course he spoke and brought me back to where I was and what had happened. It was then that I realized he had worn a condom because he asked if I wanted to keep it as a souvenir. I said no but it would have been nice to have his DNA. I began to gather up my clothes to leave and he suggested I get dressed first. Part of me wanted out as soon as possible and part of me knew I was bleeding and for some reason I did not want to get blood on my clothes. I was not thinking too clearly. As I was leaving he mockingly said "don't you want to stay and talk" and all I could say is "you just raped me" and he said "I thought faggots liked it rough".
He had spent years telling me if I ever told anyone about what he and I did he would kill me. It was that message repeated time and again that kept me from reporting the rape. He was also from one of those notorious families where you have problems with one you have problems with them all. It was not long before he called again and when I said no he began the threats to my mother's house, car and veiled threats to her. I was too ashamed to let her know what had happened and too afraid of him to call his bluff. By this time I thought it was easier to endure him then to risk any of his threats coming true. I understood the physical ramifications of what would be happening but it would be years before I realized the amount of emotional harm. I was trapped with no where to turn.
I spent 8 more years of my life under his control. I hated this man and had to please him. He was always physically abusive during sex. He would beat me in the side of my head and tell me I was not even a good cocksucker. He would make me beg for him. Always degrading and painful when I was with him. I would fantasize about shoving a knife up his rectum. I would entertain myself with thoughts of killing him while I was performing his orders. I even met separately wi
tugon (imported) wrote: Wed Jun 07, 2006 3:16 am
th my two sisters to explain why I might have to kill him. I want
ed them to be able to explain to my mother why I had done it. I was so dissociated I was afraid of loosing myself. My sanity was hanging by a thread. I still look every day for his name in the Obituaries.
I have shared this part of my life before but felt the need to try and exorcise more of the feelings. I was surprised a post in a thread could bring me down so far and back to the ugliness of those days. I want to get beyond survivor mode and back to living. Maybe those three days will turn out to have been beneficial. Sorry for the redundancy of thoughts but I needed to get more of it out.
Well anyway, my condolences to you my friend. I miss you.
, Lilac
Tugon, you are sweet and I wish you much happiness. Paolo, you continue to amaze me with your endless store of humor. Please be sure those 10-year old eunuchs keep a close eye on that plutonium, I'll sleep better. It's not only highly radioactive but also one of the most poisonous substances around. I always say you can trust eunuchs to guard these things. Really!