Trigger Warning Permanently Broken

[Shadowkat]

I believe the Lord wants me to post here, but I am not sure why.
My story is sad and horrible. When I was born, I'm told that my father looked at me and said that I wasn't his child. He accused my mother of infidelity. When I was four years old, I was viciously raped and tortured by a stranger in my own bedroom. I couldn't properly articulate what had happened and my mother was busy with her divorce; so, I was left to deal with the abuse on my own. I didn't deal with it very well, and I got the impression that my hurt, my emotions were not important. I personally have only one memory of my father and it's not a good one. When I went to school the other children continued my torture physically and emotionally. There were clear indications that I was an abused child, but I received no help from teachers, quite the opposite in fact. I got the impression that I wasn't worth their time. As a result of these things, and some other incidents at church and church camp, I became a sociopath. Now, whenever I come near another person, my emotions shut down. Also, I am unable to properly perceive others' emotions or make any kind of emotional connection. It is to the point that I seem to speak a different language devoid of emotional context. I had hoped that participating in these forums would help, but as I write this, I feel nothing.
Enter Jesus Christ: When He saved me, He poured into my heart a love and compassion for other people, a burden for the lost and a desire to be useful in His Kingdom. I love the Lord and I truly care about people; but when I get near them, my humanity is locked in a vault somewhere inside. Although I don't intend to be, I only seem to be disruptive. I wish to be of use. I wish to be encouraging. I wish to serve the Gospel. How can someone like me be a real part of God's Kingdom or fellowship with His people.

 

[Saucy]

Hi Shadowkat!

You know, it's a difficult thing to open up and share. I had a quite the similar upbringing, including being raped by a male member of my family. The truth is, healing is a process. It has taken me years of recovery and self-reflection to get to where I'm at today, and I'm not done yet!

You're the one who built that vault around yourself as a protective measure to keep from being hurt again. You're going to have to take active measures to maybe counsel with pastors, get involved in a church group of your peers, get active and serve in the church, and learn to die to self, tearing down those walls piece by piece.

Dying to self is the hardest part, but it will require you to forgive those who hurt you and put your past behind you...however long it takes. I'll be praying for you!

 

[drjean]

Have you been diagnosed with PTSD? You might not be suffering from it, and you don't have to answer.

Trauma takes a long time and expert help to work through...and even begin to heal. Just when you think you have it all under control it rears it's head and you feel so out of control and worthless... or at least I do. But focus upon the good days. Paul says forgetting those things which are passed and pressing on to the high calling...the prize ... remember what was in Paul's past? Marriage/divorce, brutality, slayings of Christians... wow. Then add in what he suffered for Christ... shipwrecks, beatings, imprisonment, being left for dead... He couldn't serve God if he focussed upon all that...

And so when the trauma is yelling at us ... focus upon God, His healing, His power, His love... You may have bad days...but focus on the good ones. You are not permanently broken... you are healing.

 

[Job3315]

I believe the Lord wants me to post here, but I am not sure why.
My story is sad and horrible. When I was born, I'm told that my father looked at me and said that I wasn't his child. He accused my mother of infidelity. When I was four years old, I was viciously raped and tortured by a stranger in my own bedroom. I couldn't properly articulate what had happened and my mother was busy with her divorce; so, I was left to deal with the abuse on my own. I didn't deal with it very well, and I got the impression that my hurt, my emotions were not important. I personally have only one memory of my father and it's not a good one. When I went to school the other children continued my torture physically and emotionally. There were clear indications that I was an abused child, but I received no help from teachers, quite the opposite in fact. I got the impression that I wasn't worth their time. As a result of these things, and some other incidents at church and church camp, I became a sociopath. Now, whenever I come near another person, my emotions shut down. Also, I am unable to properly perceive others' emotions or make any kind of emotional connection. It is to the point that I seem to speak a different language devoid of emotional context. I had hoped that participating in these forums would help, but as I write this, I feel nothing.
Enter Jesus Christ: When He saved me, He poured into my heart a love and compassion for other people, a burden for the lost and a desire to be useful in His Kingdom. I love the Lord and I truly care about people; but when I get near them, my humanity is locked in a vault somewhere inside. Although I don't intend to be, I only seem to be disruptive. I wish to be of use. I wish to be encouraging. I wish to serve the Gospel. How can someone like me be a real part of God's Kingdom or fellowship with His people.

Thank you for sharing your story ❤️

Scene from the movie Hugo:
Hugo: Monsieur Labisse gave me a book the other night.

Isabelle: He's always doing that; sending books to a good home. That's what he calls it.

Hugo: He's got real...purpose.

Isabelle: What do you mean?

Hugo: Everything has a purpose, even machines. Clocks tell the time and trains take you places; they do what they're meant to do. Like Monsieur Labisse. Maybe that's why broken machines make me so sad. They can't do what they're meant to do. Maybe it's the same with people. If you lose your purpose, it's like your broken.

Isabelle: Like Papa Georges.

Hugo: Maybe we can fix him.

Isabelle: Is that your purpose, fixing things?

Hugo: I don't know. It's what my father did.

Isabelle: I wonder what my purpose is. I don't know. Maybe if I had known my parents... I would know.

Hugo: Come with me... Right after my father died I would come up here a lot. I'd imagine the whole world was one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know. They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world was one big machine... I couldn't be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason, and that means you have to be here for some reason too.

 

[Michellegen34]

Hi, I just wanted to say a couple of things since this kinda hits home so sorry if I get of topic =)
My mother went through very similar things that you did and it wasn't up until recently that she managed to start to deal with them. She didn't understand why God would want to use her since she had learned to hate herself over the years of her childhood. It took a long time for her to realize that God wants all people from all walks of life and backgrounds in his kingdom. But by the grace of God she is learning and healing in a way that I know God will provide for you as well. Never ask yourself how someone like you can be apart of God's kingdom or be of service to him again because to him just you wanting to follow him and share his word is enough, anything else is a bonus. Allow yourself to heal in the knowledge that Jesus is overjoyed with your love for him and proud over your commitment even if you feel like it's difficult. Take small steps and let it takes its time. God bless you and sorry for ranting.

 

[SkyWriting]

I believe the Lord wants me to post here, but I am not sure why.
My story is sad and horrible. When I was born, I'm told that my father looked at me and said that I wasn't his child. He accused my mother of infidelity. When I was four years old, I was viciously raped and tortured by a stranger in my own bedroom. I couldn't properly articulate what had happened and my mother was busy with her divorce; so, I was left to deal with the abuse on my own. I didn't deal with it very well, and I got the impression that my hurt, my emotions were not important. I personally have only one memory of my father and it's not a good one. When I went to school the other children continued my torture physically and emotionally. There were clear indications that I was an abused child, but I received no help from teachers, quite the opposite in fact. I got the impression that I wasn't worth their time. As a result of these things, and some other incidents at church and church camp, I became a sociopath. Now, whenever I come near another person, my emotions shut down. Also, I am unable to properly perceive others' emotions or make any kind of emotional connection. It is to the point that I seem to speak a different language devoid of emotional context. I had hoped that participating in these forums would help, but as I write this, I feel nothing.
Enter Jesus Christ: When He saved me, He poured into my heart a love and compassion for other people, a burden for the lost and a desire to be useful in His Kingdom. I love the Lord and I truly care about people; but when I get near them, my humanity is locked in a vault somewhere inside. Although I don't intend to be, I only seem to be disruptive. I wish to be of use. I wish to be encouraging. I wish to serve the Gospel. How can someone like me be a real part of God's Kingdom or fellowship with His people.

Your not actually an outsider. God intentionally planned your entire life.
It's hard to understand most times.

 

[Sketcher]

Sorry to hear all that. Do you attend a church now? Are you in counseling now? Do you have feedback from either of them on this disruptive behavior?

 

[FineLinen]

Enter Jesus Christ: When He saved me, He poured into my heart a love and compassion for other people, a burden for the lost and a desire to be useful in His Kingdom. I love the Lord and I truly care about people; but when I get near them, my humanity is locked in a vault somewhere inside. Although I don't intend to be, I only seem to be disruptive. I wish to be of use. I wish to be encouraging. I wish to serve the Gospel. How can someone like me be a real part of God's Kingdom or fellowship with His people.

My dear Shadow, you stand as part of others who have been exposed to terrible circumstances! "Enter Jesus Christ" the Healer of broken children, and broken adults. Know this: you are loved & you can hold your head up high in that knowledge.

The Cracked Pot

A Water Bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and one half pots of water in his master's house.

The perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the Water Bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you." "Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?" "I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The Water Bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."

 

[FineLinen]

The Ragman

I saw a strange sight. I stumbled upon a story most strange, like nothing my life, my street sense, my sly tongue had ever prepared me for. Hush, child. Hush, now, and I will tell it to you.

Even before the dawn one Friday morning I noticed a young man, handsome and strong, walking the alleys of our City. He was pulling an old cart filled with clothes both bright and new, and he was calling in a clear, tenor voice: "Rags!" Ah, the air was foul and the first light filthy to be crossed by such sweet music.

"Rags! New rags for old! I take your tired rags! Rags!"

"Now, this is a wonder," I thought to myself, for the man stood six-feet-four, and his arms were like tree limbs, hard and muscular, and his eyes flashed intelligence. Could he find no better job than this, to be a ragman in the inner city? I followed him. My curiosity drove me. And I wasn't disappointed.

Soon the Ragman saw a woman sitting on her back porch. She was sobbing into a handkerchief, sighing, and shedding a thousand tears. Her knees and elbows made a sad X. Her shoulders shook. Her heart was breaking. The Ragman stopped his cart. Quietly, he walked to the woman, stepping round tin cans, dead toys, and Pampers.

"Give me your rag," he said so gently, "and I'll give you another."

The Rest Of The Story

The Rag Man

 

[ripple the car]

I believe the Lord wants me to post here, but I am not sure why.
My story is sad and horrible. When I was born, I'm told that my father looked at me and said that I wasn't his child. He accused my mother of infidelity. When I was four years old, I was viciously raped and tortured by a stranger in my own bedroom. I couldn't properly articulate what had happened and my mother was busy with her divorce; so, I was left to deal with the abuse on my own. I didn't deal with it very well, and I got the impression that my hurt, my emotions were not important. I personally have only one memory of my father and it's not a good one. When I went to school the other children continued my torture physically and emotionally. There were clear indications that I was an abused child, but I received no help from teachers, quite the opposite in fact. I got the impression that I wasn't worth their time. As a result of these things, and some other incidents at church and church camp, I became a sociopath. Now, whenever I come near another person, my emotions shut down. Also, I am unable to properly perceive others' emotions or make any kind of emotional connection. It is to the point that I seem to speak a different language devoid of emotional context. I had hoped that participating in these forums would help, but as I write this, I feel nothing.
Enter Jesus Christ: When He saved me, He poured into my heart a love and compassion for other people, a burden for the lost and a desire to be useful in His Kingdom. I love the Lord and I truly care about people; but when I get near them, my humanity is locked in a vault somewhere inside. Although I don't intend to be, I only seem to be disruptive. I wish to be of use. I wish to be encouraging. I wish to serve the Gospel. How can someone like me be a real part of God's Kingdom or fellowship with His people.

People who have been abused, especially sexual abuse, often have a very, very hard time connecting normally, compassionately, to other people. It is like your soul shuts down to protect itself.

It takes time, grace, healing, prayer, Divine Mercy, and time. The battle is very, very tough, but winnable. Trust me. You can love, be loved, and be of use. God can use you. And will.

 

[Shadowkat]

I thank you for your replies; they are all wonderful.
I will continue on in hope that the Lord will do the work that He intends in my life. I will also pray for everyone I meet that they will not be offended by my ineptitude.

May the Lord bless you and keep you;
and walk with you on your journeys
til the end of days.

 

[seekingmuch]

I believe the Lord wants me to post here, but I am not sure why.
My story is sad and horrible. When I was born, I'm told that my father looked at me and said that I wasn't his child. He accused my mother of infidelity. When I was four years old, I was viciously raped and tortured by a stranger in my own bedroom. I couldn't properly articulate what had happened and my mother was busy with her divorce; so, I was left to deal with the abuse on my own. I didn't deal with it very well, and I got the impression that my hurt, my emotions were not important. I personally have only one memory of my father and it's not a good one. When I went to school the other children continued my torture physically and emotionally. There were clear indications that I was an abused child, but I received no help from teachers, quite the opposite in fact. I got the impression that I wasn't worth their time. As a result of these things, and some other incidents at church and church camp, I became a sociopath. Now, whenever I come near another person, my emotions shut down. Also, I am unable to properly perceive others' emotions or make any kind of emotional connection. It is to the point that I seem to speak a different language devoid of emotional context. I had hoped that participating in these forums would help, but as I write this, I feel nothing.
Enter Jesus Christ: When He saved me, He poured into my heart a love and compassion for other people, a burden for the lost and a desire to be useful in His Kingdom. I love the Lord and I truly care about people; but when I get near them, my humanity is locked in a vault somewhere inside. Although I don't intend to be, I only seem to be disruptive. I wish to be of use. I wish to be encouraging. I wish to serve the Gospel. How can someone like me be a real part of God's Kingdom or fellowship with His people.

((((((((Shadowkat))))))))

 

[Shadowkat]

((((((((Shadowkat))))))))

Apologies, I'm not very literate in social media; so, I'm not sure what this means.
Are you yelling at me?

 

[seekingmuch]

Apologies, I'm not very literate in social media; so, I'm not sure what this means.
Are you yelling at me?

It's a hug!!!

 

[Shadowkat]

It's a hug!!!

Oh, ok. Thanks, that's awesome!! Hugs are always welcome.

 

[SkyWriting]

 

[seekingmuch]

I thank you for your replies; they are all wonderful.
I will continue on in hope that the Lord will do the work that He intends in my life. I will also pray for everyone I meet that they will not be offended by my ineptitude.

May the Lord bless you and keep you;
and walk with you on your journeys
til the end of days.

How are you doing?

I was molested when I was 3 1/2 so understand your issues. I've gotten past self-loathing and self-hatred, but really not gotten into self-love. I accept I'm transgender though don't act on it. I'm a very feminine "guy". I've learned to really embrace my feminine side. I just don't advertise the trans thing, nor do I dress up.