C
centurionguard
Guest
Six and half years of extremely poor resources of psychotherapy is nothing to speak about in my situation being a heterosexual male rape victim with a despised past from the depths of hell, despair, and unspeakable pain and stigma. I could say that I actually lost my soul and have been searching to find it for the last thirty years after being gang-raped at gunpoint by two men and a woman along with two other male heterosexual victims who suffered the same identical fate as I did thirty years ago. From August 25, 1979 until January 3rd, 2003;
I kept my horrifying stigmatized past silent telling (Nobody) to a point a burying it in my subconscious for twenty-three years until a major nervous breakdown on January 3rd, 2003. Recovery in these past six and a half years up to present date have been very slow.
In hindsight my inundated scourge from the past destroyed most of my life with a history of four unsuccessful suicide attempts in the last six and a half years. Remorse ? Yes.
Shame and Guilt ? That goes with the territory and stigma of unspeakable pain through these last three decades. I’ve yelled at God on more futile occasions than I wish to count. Some times I try to fathom why God “allows” so much rape trauma to happen to women, children, and men on this wretched planet in close vicinity to hell. My heart pains me more when I contemplate my four suicide attempts in the past. I’m not really sure if God will forgive me for what I’ve done. They say that God forgives in proportion to the amount of sorrow you feel in your heart. My heart aches in sorrow. One compassionate woman I spoke to said that maybe God allowed me to go through what I did to mortify and humble my soul. I guess that part of wisdom I do understand.
I kept my horrifying stigmatized past silent telling (Nobody) to a point a burying it in my subconscious for twenty-three years until a major nervous breakdown on January 3rd, 2003. Recovery in these past six and a half years up to present date have been very slow.
In hindsight my inundated scourge from the past destroyed most of my life with a history of four unsuccessful suicide attempts in the last six and a half years. Remorse ? Yes.
Shame and Guilt ? That goes with the territory and stigma of unspeakable pain through these last three decades. I’ve yelled at God on more futile occasions than I wish to count. Some times I try to fathom why God “allows” so much rape trauma to happen to women, children, and men on this wretched planet in close vicinity to hell. My heart pains me more when I contemplate my four suicide attempts in the past. I’m not really sure if God will forgive me for what I’ve done. They say that God forgives in proportion to the amount of sorrow you feel in your heart. My heart aches in sorrow. One compassionate woman I spoke to said that maybe God allowed me to go through what I did to mortify and humble my soul. I guess that part of wisdom I do understand.
