This begins the new series. Also, to read more about Dr. Kenneth Copley, read "The Hammer Drops" series, which details this predator's sexual abuse of his adopted daughter, Ruth. The names of the victims have been changed in The Great Deceiver, as well as supporting characters and the names of places or organizations, at the request of the author of this story.
I was raised Amish in central Illinois. I am the fourth born and was informed by my mother that dad was very angry when he discovered she was pregnant with me. My mother said she cried through most of the pregnancy because dad would yell at her when he was frustrated with life, which was daily.
I was told that, as an infant, I cried all the time and my dad demanded: "take that baby in the bedroom and shut it up!" It was stressful for both my mom and my sister who tried to keep me quiet so dad would not yell. My brother informed me that dad was fine until I was born and then he started yelling all the time. It seemed I ruined the family when I was born. These facts that were shared with me matched how I felt inside. I struggled with cognitive dissonance, which simply means what you think about something and feel about something do not match. I did not like to be informed about such horrible things that were done and said about me, however, it finally made sense why I felt the way I did. I felt unwanted and when the pain of the past surfaced it was like an uncontrollable emotional bleeding and no comfort was found.
Hopeless despair means I am in pain and no help is on the way. This characterized my childhood and expanded into adulthood as I was a magnet for more abuse.
At age five when children decide what life is all about, I decided that life was not going to get any better. I recall on my fifth birthday I stood between the two tall wooden telephone poles in our front yard,looked around, and I remember saying to myself, "Look around Sharon, you think this is bad, its going to get worse so brace yourself and move on". In that moment I dissociated and I left my heart there in the middle of those two tall wooden telephone poles.
Also at age five, I recall my brother who was five years older, asking me to go to the barn for a special and secretive time with him. He made me feel like we were going for ice cream or going to look at something special he couldn't wait for me to see, such as bunnies being born. Instead he would flip me over and make me stand on my head, while he spread my legs and and penetrated me over and over again with his fingers, it hurt really bad. But he told me this was special and that I should never tell anyone because it was a secret good thing he was doing for me. I believed him and so for a couple of years I thought it was okay.
At age eight I decided this was not okay. So I said no, one day, when he reached over to touch me during a card game. We would play cards on his bed and I always wanted to play with him, but he would always want to fondle me. I just wanted to play cards but when I said no to the fondling, he stopped playing cards with me and I was so lonely that I wished I had not told him no.
Part 2 - The Great Deceiver: Punishment for Telling
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I was raised Amish in central Illinois. I am the fourth born and was informed by my mother that dad was very angry when he discovered she was pregnant with me. My mother said she cried through most of the pregnancy because dad would yell at her when he was frustrated with life, which was daily.
I was told that, as an infant, I cried all the time and my dad demanded: "take that baby in the bedroom and shut it up!" It was stressful for both my mom and my sister who tried to keep me quiet so dad would not yell. My brother informed me that dad was fine until I was born and then he started yelling all the time. It seemed I ruined the family when I was born. These facts that were shared with me matched how I felt inside. I struggled with cognitive dissonance, which simply means what you think about something and feel about something do not match. I did not like to be informed about such horrible things that were done and said about me, however, it finally made sense why I felt the way I did. I felt unwanted and when the pain of the past surfaced it was like an uncontrollable emotional bleeding and no comfort was found.
Hopeless despair means I am in pain and no help is on the way. This characterized my childhood and expanded into adulthood as I was a magnet for more abuse.
At age five when children decide what life is all about, I decided that life was not going to get any better. I recall on my fifth birthday I stood between the two tall wooden telephone poles in our front yard,looked around, and I remember saying to myself, "Look around Sharon, you think this is bad, its going to get worse so brace yourself and move on". In that moment I dissociated and I left my heart there in the middle of those two tall wooden telephone poles.
Also at age five, I recall my brother who was five years older, asking me to go to the barn for a special and secretive time with him. He made me feel like we were going for ice cream or going to look at something special he couldn't wait for me to see, such as bunnies being born. Instead he would flip me over and make me stand on my head, while he spread my legs and and penetrated me over and over again with his fingers, it hurt really bad. But he told me this was special and that I should never tell anyone because it was a secret good thing he was doing for me. I believed him and so for a couple of years I thought it was okay.
At age eight I decided this was not okay. So I said no, one day, when he reached over to touch me during a card game. We would play cards on his bed and I always wanted to play with him, but he would always want to fondle me. I just wanted to play cards but when I said no to the fondling, he stopped playing cards with me and I was so lonely that I wished I had not told him no.
Part 2 - The Great Deceiver: Punishment for Telling
Read "Bastard Out of Carolina" by Dorothy Allison about how she was 'groomed,' abused, and then raped by her stepfather. It's a novel but based on her life.
ReplyDeleteEven more harrowing is "Half the House" by Richard Hoffman who tells of trying to recover and put his life, his marriage, and family together while confronting his abuse at the hands of a coach who was a serial predator. The publicity around the arrest of the predator stopped the abuse of boys, 20 years after Hoffman's abuse. The guy raped literally hundreds of boys.
When the abuse charges came out against Jerry Sandusky of Penn State, it all sounded familiar. And it has to stop.
It does need to stop. Her brother was clearly also sexually abused at a young age. I know lots of ten year olds and none of them want to sexually abuse five year olds. Only someone whose developing brain was effed up by earlier sexual abuse would even *think* of doing that.
ReplyDeleteI am so disgusted.
This ad I'm seeing up on the top left today, "Model Quality Thai Girls" with a url thaifemail DOT com accompanied by the photo of a *very* young girl (possibly underage) is creeping me out. It's as if the ad is connected to the sexual key words of these posts. I'm guessing the ads change regularly but if you notice it I hope you have a way to report it as unacceptable for your page.
ReplyDeleteI agree with shadowspring, it does seem like this brother was abused previously.
Wow. I can only imagine how painful writing this must be fore you. I applaud your courage for telling your truth about your childhood. I was raised Amish Mennonite, and while I didn't experience anything like this, I am fully aware that this kind of abuse takes place far more often than most anyone would admit. Abuse/incest/rape can happen in any culture, but the worst part of it is when the culture has absolutely ZERO procedures for addressing it, protecting the powerless, and getting everyone involved the kind of emotional, mental, spiritual, physical help they need. This attitude that turns a blind eye to abuse is one of the reasons I do not identify with the tradition any longer. I hope you are finding healing and comfort as you process these memories.
ReplyDelete