To all those men

To all those men who used my body without care or regard for me,

The fact that I’m speaking on behalf of the fractured aspects of my personality, at 47, after a life of shame and disorder, and still not healed – stands as testament to the damage you caused, when you raped me, probed me, fondled and fornicated over me, in me, with me, through me and every good aspect of my life.

You created a fear in me, that served your needs, and then, you never released me from it, when you were done with me. That fear has eaten into my world, undermining my hopes and capabilities. Like vinegar on limestone. The cost has been huge.

You turned me into a sex addict by the age of 15. A soiled rag, handed from man to man to ejaculate on, in, over. Lying in a pool of p*** on the urinal floor. What child deserves that, what child could ever really be that worthless, unless made so by another?

You took me to farmhouses, car parks, school gyms, dangerous isolated pools. You had me do things that no child should do. You made it impossible to look in a mirror, and see anyone in it. You robbed me of my self-respect.

You manipulated me into compliance, and then to acceptance of the belief that I was irrevocably stained and broken. Everything my church and mother reviled. I lived in mortal fear of discovery, because you made me feel that it was my fault, my stain, my perversion, my sin, my responsibility, my fatal f****** flaw.

I was just a boy just in his teens, attacked by numerous unscrupulous b******* who were only in it for their own needs. Did it make you feel powerful? To get what you want, even the extreme desires? Or does it make you just another sad f***** picking on a Kid? Big, brave, powerful, and pathetic.

My hurt inner child was responsible too young, for too much, he was already wounded. You used that against him when he was older. You robbed my brave, strong teenager of the chance to know the beauty of shame free love. You made him worthless to women. Damaged goods. You robbed him of the choice of with whom and when his virginity was given. Now, when the virginity question comes up I have to ask which one?

There were many of you, and each of you took a little of my self-value, until I was bankrupt at 16, when I hit the low that you made possible. And became monstrous to myself.

You cost me happiness and home, and days with my son that I can never reclaim. Through me your poison hurt the ones I loved, my family and friends. You cost me fortune and success but most of all health and peace of mind; to sit, and breath for a while, Happy in this skin. You robbed me of hope and left me with a wound that was irrelevant to you, an expectation that none can be trusted and all will abandon me.

A personality so traumatised and in need of the tender love and care unavailable back then. The arms, to hold the crying child. The treatment, to stop the blood. The care, to help restore faith and dispel fear.

You put in place a nightmare world that trapped me for years to come. I live these days disconnected from self, disgusted by my being, tortured by scars that itch and ache even today.

You denied me the chance to find happiness with a woman. A true friend to love, and with whom the love can be shame free and returned in equal measure. Great tracts of my life, gone, disempowered, filled with tears and depression. All this love inside me, polluted and twisted, toxic. No good to anyone. Dead and alone all at once in the same body. Characterised and imprisoned by shame. Soul dead.

Where were you for the hard yards? No need to answer, I was nothing to you, a worthless doll, warm but not alive. Desirable, but not worthy of humanity.

For all of this and more I accuse you, on behalf of my hurt and wounded inner children, I accuse you, you b*******, you life wreckers, you real life monsters-under-the-bed. But mostly I want to say f*** you if you think I’m going to let it continue. I will touch that anger, that great sadness inside, choked and poisonous. Even these words have unlocked the squalls of early tears. And when that is done, I will be free of you all! I will have what’s left of my life, for my use not yours.

Christopher Davies, adult and responsible.