Sunday, April 3, 2016

Individual Sexual Abuse – Child Rape – by my mother and father My Formative Years.

After just a few sessions of EMDR and of course a lot of other work. I have been able to remember what I could not remember prior to EMDR and the support of the anti-anxiety drug Xanax. Without these dual aspects of therapy, I could not remember these things let alone tell their story.   
There is no way to ease into the description of such evil inhumanity, so hideous memories that cognitive dissonance would require their dissociation through repression for the organism to continue to exist.




Between the ages of 2 and 9 years, my mother on the occasions that suited her once a month once a week would carry me in from my room to hers. Our house was very small about 900 sq ft. so she did not have to carry me a long distance, and obviously my brothers and sisters knew what was going on, because soon it would be their turn weekly, monthly this interval has not crystalized fro me yet.
Once in her bed my mother would disrobe exposing her naked body to me. This would bring various levels of excitement to me depending on my age from a pure tactile stimulation. The feelings were flavored with a others of tenderness and love or a motherly love and closes ness between the ages from 2 and 4.  Between those ages there was no sexual arousal but feelings of love and closeness mixed with tactile sensations.  By the age of 5 to 9 particularly by age 9 I had become conditioned to associate these events with a nascent sexual arousal for, of all people, my mother.
So I would be taken into my mother’s bed at these ages 2 to 9, she being stimulated by the sight of a child. I really don’t understand this.  I kneeling in bed before her she nude and she stripping me nude no matter how old I was.

I remember at the youngest age of 2 rubbing up against her naked body and the tactile stimulation and the rubbing of my penis against her vagina. I came to associate with love and affection even though it was not love or affection at all. Whets was taking place for my mother was sexual arousal. I could see this by the maniacal look on her face. This was not love but lust stimulated by beholding a young child her own, although I became conditioned to see this objectification of myself as love, because it was the only affection and closeness that I received as a child.

The tactile stimulation itself was much like being tickled but tickled or tacitly stimulated beyond the point of pleasure and well into the realm of pain.

For the survivor this was not childhood sexual abuse; that phrase is from the perpetrators point of view.  It is a part of societies language or ontological perspective that must change if child rape is to stop. The perpetrators are the only ones being sexually aroused or stimulated.  The perpetrators, they are the only ones getting off sexually. As a victim as a child as a survivor, I was just and object to be used as long as she wanted in order to receive whatever thrill it was that she received. Sense I had not matured physically sexually I had no release from this torture there was no end to it for me just rape and pain.  It as if I were a human dildo with feelings.

This rape and pain with no release is another level of woundedness that I wish to run from. These emotions are stating now to be separated from the hideous and frightening emotions that I run from at I when I felt the full impact, hideousness and ugliness of being a sexually experienced child.
Remember being raped by my family, and this was not limited to my mother and father, started when I was pre-verbal – I could not speak or form cognitions in my mind of what was being done to me. 

 When the pre-verbal aspect is considered I the child was left with feelings of closeness love, sexual objectification, pleasing my family by allowing myself, and I thought I had control even though I did not, nut pleasing my family by letting the sexually objectify. “letting them” in fact I had no choice. And yet there was no expression of love, affection its associated emotions or cognitions just torture the torture of trauma and naked bodies and the illusion of self-worth by allowing myself to be sexually objectified.

Dad would often eventually come home and join us in the bed, mom ad I. At the ages to 2 through 4. I would be pinned between them with no means of struggle or escape forced to touch an tactily experience my father’s gentiles.  I would also be naked and pinned between their naked bodies rubbing against them in a hideous intractable tactile stimulation trapped with no escape  which I came to associate with love and affection even though it was only objectification.
Then the oddest thing happened with me as catalyst my parents would cast me aside and begin their own sexual activity between each other.  I was the object of their arousal, thus so that they could in engage in sex. This was my purpose for being born.

As I was left alone at their time I would borough under the blankets often ending at the foot of the bed or sliding off the side onto the floor so I could make my escape into my own room as they tangled in whatever it was that ignited their passion.

This went on weekly, monthly probably sometimes either weekly or monthly but certainly when the urge was upon them   

This was their show I was on an object to them a human dildo of sorts practiced and loved for stimulation but never experiencing human love of a child between mother and father.
As I got older I was used more and more as a participant literally and figuratively between my mother and father. The emotions associated with these sessions were very confusing, First I was pre-verbal so I could not cognate (think) what was going on I only experienced pure emotions. Secondly I was at an age where I had not developed clear boundaries, i.e., I did not know for sure where I began and ended and where my parents began and ended they were still a part or parts of me that were indistinguishable from myself. This is the self that I was supposed to be developing with their help. This is the function of parenthood to help the child develop a sense of self.  Finally, there were these emotions these tactile simulations love, were they affection? No. They were the objectification and the discounting and the blurring of that very self that it was their duty and my expectation for them to help me develop, nurture and grow.  

Complicating my developing sense of self was their own definition of my purpose as both object and catalyst for their sexual pleasure.  I existed to somehow stimulate being responsible for their sexual pleasure and being responsible for driving their own sexual arousal between each other to each other when I had no concept of sex as love or intercourse between a man and a woman as an expression of love.

There in my parents bed I experienced the emotions, tactile, feelings primitive cognition which formed my developing self and which I had to live with repressed through dissociation of the cognitive dissonance presented parents and lovers.  

Of course repression of any kind, for any reason is mental illness not mental health, anyone who attempts or succeeds in repressing emotions for any reason is practicing a form of mental illness whether this is sanctioned by a guru through meditation, an inspirational speaker through the power of positive thinking, bible thumpers who use scripture to negate the love of Christ and His human experience, and the cognitive psychologists themselves, who have come up with numerous methods of repression from CBT to the prescription of psychotropic drugs like SSRIs all designed to make the organism manageable and cover up the hideous truth of human evil that exists in our society – especially in the United states of America.

Copyright Fred Celio 2016

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