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User Topic: Betrayed Men-Part 7
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Default  Posted: 10:13 AM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

Posts: 10000 | Registered: May 2002
Mr. Kite
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Member # 28840
Default  Posted: 10:22 AM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage


I have tried several times but to no avail, I just don't have whatever balls it takes to walk off.

The only thing stopping me now from moving on is a lack of funds. We have drained our savings over the last six months, $25,000, buying DS a car, insurance, college tuition and books, etc. Neither one of us is in a position, financially, to split up so our stay in the Twilight Zone continues.

This personal thingh, it comes from my guilt over the death of a dd. I have traveles tis road several times on here, and it is back on me once again. I just do not know how to releive it. It weighs heavy, and it pulls me back worse than anything else

Can't imagine what you've gone through. Having an only child, this is my greatest fear. Can't even bear to contemplate it. Hope you find some kind of peace over this tragedy.

Posts: 900 | Registered: Jun 2010 | From: Mid-Atlantic
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Default  Posted: 10:50 AM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

Thanks, The thing that really drags it out is my inability to find any resolution within, the battles are within. As with the A business, this battle has been mostly fought within. I feel like a battlescarred land and I just keep finding the holes and bodies strewn about.

Don't get me wrong, I have my better moments, life is not horrible on the outside. My W is doing her best to travel in the right direction, and I appreciate it. It is all this other crap and the built up worries that wipe me out.

I appreciate the support here guys, it is just about all I really have.

Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, "Where have I gone wrong?"
Then a voice says to me, "This is going to take more than one night."
--- Charles M. Schulz
SO if I check my pulse, and it is not there, do I get the day off?

Posts: 8381 | Registered: Jan 2006 | From: At Home
Mr. Kite
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Member # 28840
Default  Posted: 11:14 AM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

Don't know if you've ever been into the band Rush, but their drummer, Neil Peart, wrote a book about his life and his reaction to the death of his daughter. It's called 'Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road.' Maybe reading that might be healing for you.

Peart took a long sabbatical to mourn and reflect, during which time he traveled extensively throughout North and Central America on his BMW motorcycle, covering 88,000 km (55,000 miles). After his journey ended, Peart decided to return to the band. Peart wrote Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road as a chronicle of his geographical and emotional journey.

Posts: 900 | Registered: Jun 2010 | From: Mid-Atlantic
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Default  Posted: 2:08 PM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

Hurts, I can only imagine what you're going through. You've been through two of the biggest traumas a man can experience. I'm just glad to see you're still standing. I assume you're in IC?

Mr. Kite, I'd never heard of the Neil Peart book. I'm sort of fascinated by the very idea of a grief-recovery memoir by a Randroid rock musician.

Me: BH; Her: Slime Mold; DS7
D-day #1 6/09; D-day #2 8/10; divorced 3/12

After what you did I can't stay on
And I'll probably feel a whole lot better
When you're gone

Posts: 489 | Registered: Sep 2010 | From: survivorman
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Default  Posted: 2:44 PM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

damn, hurts-I know what it does to a family-my brother was shot to death by his best friend @17-my folks never slept in the same room again, never kissed again-many, many, dinners were eaten in total silence. They just never got over it.

I cannot imagine the loss of one of my kids.

time wounds all heels

Posts: 5359 | Registered: Mar 2008 | From: deliverance land
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Default  Posted: 2:58 PM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

Hurts OMG brther. You are one strong ass bastard!

Part 7 WOW. We talk a lot!

Posts: 934 | Registered: Apr 2008
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Default  Posted: 3:01 PM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

Well, IMAJ may not have done it, but I did it last night--took WW back that is. Maybe I need a 2x4 or maybe I'm chump of the year. She's supposed to be ending it with OM right now. They're talking face to face. She says she loves him but is choosing me. She says she doesn't want to lose me or our family. Am I crazy for trying again after DD#4?

Oblivious: As others have said, be careful with this one. Personally, I wouldn't take her back unless she fulfills some conditions that have been mentioned throughout this site (NC, IC/MC, etc.) if a legit R were to work. This business of "she says she loves him" is a non-starter - 100% guaranteed. A marriage is b/w 2 people - not 3. She HAS to be rid of him in every regard if anything is to work b/w you 2. Until she does this, it's lip service. Frankly, after DD#4 and she's still telling you this stuff, I don't think she's being real remorseful.

Me: BH (Mid 30s)
Her: WW (Mid 30s)
Married 10 years, together 15.
2 kids under 4.
DDay: Jan-2010
4 false Rs with varying degrees of "trying" - same result
Dec-started mediation process.

Posts: 250 | Registered: Oct 2010
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Default  Posted: 6:01 PM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

hurts))) man, strength to you. You're looking in the right direction; within.
You can win. Get through with scars, We wouldn't be here if we thought we couldn't. Praying for your strength, for all of us.

Posts: 6020 | Registered: Dec 2007 | From: texas
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Default  Posted: 6:38 PM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

Again thanks guys.

I am not currently in IC, thought about it again, but I was there for years, thought I had a handle on most of it, took the journey, but you know, even then I could never come to find it in me to forgive me.It was a long process and it doesn't seem to know an end. I happen to be a church going man and have even addressed it in that arena also, with the same results. I can hear the logic, but just can't find the application to me, I just have never felt worthy to either ask for or to recieve any kind of forgiveness.

I think what really poured salt into the wound was the A. Just as has been discussed here many tmes is the loss of any esteem one might have had for ones self. Really guts ya. I can feel the battle that is in the current conversation, I don't have to worry about taking her back, I never left, and as with several of the guys here, just hanging in there. But nothing I see in any of these conflicts do anything to bring oneself back up to some kind of value within.

The question always seems to be to find that fingerhold in the chasam to work our way back up, and to be able to maintain that hold while enduring the tempest.

I'll let you know this, I find much strength here, I see you guys in all the various stages, success' and failures - and yet here you still are, clinging on and breathing at the same time. Cool. Hoping for the positive and dealing with whatever comes.

Kudos guys.

I worry that I keep finding myself on the same path in life. Is this where I am suppose to be or is it for me to find that different path. I like where I am at mostly, just wish I could avoid the low hangers that keep trying to knock me off.

Oh well, such as it is. I appreciate the oppurtunity to vent out a bit, it is a release I needed.

Thanks guys.

Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, "Where have I gone wrong?"
Then a voice says to me, "This is going to take more than one night."
--- Charles M. Schulz
SO if I check my pulse, and it is not there, do I get the day off?

Posts: 8381 | Registered: Jan 2006 | From: At Home
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Default  Posted: 11:52 PM, January 6th (Thursday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

I just have never felt worthy to either ask for or to recieve any kind of forgiveness


None of us are worthy of forgiveness. We are not entitled to grace, but yet we all have it, whether we like it or not.

So many of us work so hard, try so hard, and nevertheless fail to find that holy grail. We make the mistake of thinking that we can find salvation through the merit of our good deeds and accomplishments, so we constantly reach upwards, with the belief in our potency to create our own reward. Yet we come up short, or even empty, standing alone. Life throws us curves, tragedies, we age, and we die.

By letting go and accepting that we are frail and undeserving, we allow grace to enter our hearts. Only then can we find what was there all along. To accept that gift is the bravest, most honest thing that we can do.

This is my recollection of last week's sermon, which shook me, and shook me hard.

[This message edited by OnceInALifetime at 1:24 AM, January 7th (Friday)]

BH, now divorced

Posts: 3012 | Registered: Oct 2009
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Default  Posted: 1:24 AM, January 7th (Friday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

Hey I hear ya man, I do have a fair understanding of the comcepts. I just can't get past the applicablity part.

I don't think I am trying to get ahead with good deeds, heck I am not sure what that would involve, obviously much more than anything I do. Me, I am just trying to get by with minimal impact or increased damage to the inner regions. I always figured that when the time comes, if it ain't too much, they'll need someone to swab the decks or muck out the stall. I hear I am pretty good at tossing it around by the shovel load.

Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, "Where have I gone wrong?"
Then a voice says to me, "This is going to take more than one night."
--- Charles M. Schulz
SO if I check my pulse, and it is not there, do I get the day off?

Posts: 8381 | Registered: Jan 2006 | From: At Home
♂ Member
Member # 26023
Default  Posted: 1:35 AM, January 7th (Friday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

It's a work in progress for me as well. The thought gives me consolation, especially when I start to feel especially down.

But no, I'm not there yet.

I guess much of the thrust from Christianity of late has been about striving upwards, ascending, which, when you think about it, just sets you up for a fall. That's why this message, which is in fact a very old message, struck me as so novel.

[This message edited by OnceInALifetime at 1:36 AM, January 7th (Friday)]

BH, now divorced

Posts: 3012 | Registered: Oct 2009
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Member # 9444
Default  Posted: 1:42 AM, January 7th (Friday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

I hear ya, a broken and contrite spirit.

I've found the broken part, been there for years. It is the contrite part that sticks me, am I teachable, guess not.

Guess I still got more miles to go, wow, that really blows.

Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, "Where have I gone wrong?"
Then a voice says to me, "This is going to take more than one night."
--- Charles M. Schulz
SO if I check my pulse, and it is not there, do I get the day off?

Posts: 8381 | Registered: Jan 2006 | From: At Home
Mr. Kite
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Member # 28840
Default  Posted: 4:02 AM, January 7th (Friday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

Don't know how applicable the following is to anyone reading here but it definitely wrenched at my heart. To those broken to the point of suicide, whether due to infidelity, sexual molestation, or some other reason, 27 year old computer programmer Bill Zeller once again reminds us not to hide our pain from others. It's a long and agonizing suicide note but well worth the read.

The Agonizing Last Words of Programmer Bill Zeller

"I have the urge to declare my sanity and justify my actions, but I assume I'll never be able to convince anyone that this was the right decision. Maybe it's true that anyone who does this is insane by definition, but I can at least explain my reasoning.

I considered not writing any of this because of how personal it is, but I like tying up loose ends and don't want people to wonder why I did this. Since I've never spoken to anyone about what happened to me, people would likely draw the wrong conclusions.

My first memories as a child are of being raped, repeatedly. This has affected every aspect of my life. This darkness, which is the only way I can describe it, has followed me like a fog, but at times intensified and overwhelmed me, usually triggered by a distinct situation.

In kindergarten I couldn't use the bathroom and would stand petrified whenever I needed to, which started a trend of awkward and unexplained social behavior. The damage that was done to my body still prevents me from using the bathroom normally, but now it's less of a physical impediment than a daily reminder of what was done to me.

This darkness followed me as I grew up. I remember spending hours playing with legos, having my world consist of me and a box of cold, plastic blocks. Just waiting for everything to end. It's the same thing I do now, but instead of legos it's surfing the web or reading or listening to a baseball game. Most of my life has been spent feeling dead inside, waiting for my body to catch up.

At times growing up I would feel inconsolable rage, but I never connected this to what happened until puberty. I was able to keep the darkness at bay for a few hours at a time by doing things that required intense concentration, but it would always come back. Programming appealed to me for this reason.

I was never particularly fond of computers or mathematically inclined, but the temporary peace it would provide was like a drug. But the darkness always returned and built up something like a tolerance, because programming has become less and less of a refuge.

The darkness is with me nearly every time I wake up. I feel like a grime is covering me. I feel like I'm trapped in a contaminated body that no amount of washing will clean. Whenever I think about what happened I feel manic and itchy and can't concentrate on anything else. It manifests itself in hours of eating or staying up for days at a time or sleeping for sixteen hours straight or week long programming binges or constantly going to the gym. I'm exhausted from feeling like this every hour of every day.

Three to four nights a week I have nightmares about what happened. It makes me avoid sleep and constantly tired, because sleeping with what feels like hours of nightmares is not restful. I wake up sweaty and furious. I'm reminded every morning of what was done to me and the control it has over my life.

I've never been able to stop thinking about what happened to me and this hampered my social interactions. I would be angry and lost in thought and then be interrupted by someone saying "Hi" or making small talk, unable to understand why I seemed cold and distant. I walked around, viewing the outside world from a distant portal behind my eyes, unable to perform normal human niceties.

I wondered what it would be like to take to other people without what happened constantly on my mind, and I wondered if other people had similar experiences that they were better able to mask.

Alcohol was also something that let me escape the darkness. It would always find me later, though, and it was always angry that I managed to escape and it made me pay. Many of the irresponsible things I did were the result of the darkness. Obviously I'm responsible for every decision and action, including this one, but there are reasons why things happen the way they do.

Alcohol and other drugs provided a way to ignore the realities of my situation. It was easy to spend the night drinking and forget that I had no future to look forward to. I never liked what alcohol did to me, but it was better than facing my existence honestly. I haven't touched alcohol or any other drug in over seven months (and no drugs or alcohol will be involved when I do this) and this has forced me to evaluate my life in an honest and clear way. There's no future here. The darkness will always be with me.

I used to think if I solved some problem or achieved some goal, maybe he would leave. It was comforting to identify tangible issues as the source of my problems instead of something that I'll never be able to change. I thought that if I got into to a good college, or a good grad school, or lost weight, or went to the gym nearly every day for a year, or created programs that millions of people used, or spent a summer or California or New York or published papers that I was proud of, then maybe I would feel some peace and not be constantly haunted and unhappy.

But nothing I did made a dent in how depressed I was on a daily basis and nothing was in any way fulfilling. I'm not sure why I ever thought that would change anything.

I didn't realize how deep a hold he had on me and my life until my first relationship. I stupidly assumed that no matter how the darkness affected me personally, my romantic relationships would somehow be separated and protected.

Growing up I viewed my future relationships as a possible escape from this thing that haunts me every day, but I began to realize how entangled it was with every aspect of my life and how it is never going to release me. Instead of being an escape, relationships and romantic contact with other people only intensified everything about him that I couldn't stand. I will never be able to have a relationship in which he is not the focus, affecting every aspect of my romantic interactions.

Relationships always started out fine and I'd be able to ignore him for a few weeks. But as we got closer emotionally the darkness would return and every night it'd be me, her and the darkness in a black and gruesome threesome. He would surround me and penetrate me and the more we did the more intense it became.

It made me hate being touched, because as long as we were separated I could view her like an outsider viewing something good and kind and untainted. Once we touched, the darkness would envelope her too and take her over and the evil inside me would surround her. I always felt like I was infecting anyone I was with.

Relationships didn't work. No one I dated was the right match, and I thought that maybe if I found the right person it would overwhelm him. Part of me knew that finding the right person wouldn't help, so I became interested in girls who obviously had no interest in me. For a while I thought I was gay. I convinced myself that it wasn't the darkness at all, but rather my orientation, because this would give me control over why things didn't feel "right".

The fact that the darkness affected sexual matters most intensely made this idea make some sense and I convinced myself of this for a number of years, starting in college after my first relationship ended. I told people I was gay (at Trinity, not at Princeton), even though I wasn't attracted to men and kept finding myself interested in girls. Because if being gay wasn't the answer, then what was?

People thought I was avoiding my orientation, but I was actually avoiding the truth, which is that while I'm straight, I will never be content with anyone. I know now that the darkness will never leave.

Last spring I met someone who was unlike anyone else I'd ever met. Someone who showed me just how well two people could get along and how much I could care about another human being. Someone I know I could be with and love for the rest of my life, if I weren't so fucked up. Amazingly, she liked me. She liked the shell of the man the darkness had left behind. But it didn't matter because I couldn't be alone with her. It was never just the two of us, it was always the three of us: her, me and the darkness.

The closer we got, the more intensely I'd feel the darkness, like some evil mirror of my emotions. All the closeness we had and I loved was complemented by agony that I couldn't stand, from him. I realized that I would never be able to give her, or anyone, all of me or only me. She could never have me without the darkness and evil inside me.

I could never have just her, without the darkness being a part of all of our interactions. I will never be able to be at peace or content or in a healthy relationship. I realized the futility of the romantic part of my life. If I had never met her, I would have realized this as soon as I met someone else who I meshed similarly well with. It's likely that things wouldn't have worked out with her and we would have broken up (with our relationship ending, like the majority of relationships do) even if I didn't have this problem, since we only dated for a short time.

But I will face exactly the same problems with the darkness with anyone else. Despite my hopes, love and compatability is not enough. Nothing is enough. There's no way I can fix this or even push the darkness down far enough to make a relationship or any type of intimacy feasible.

So I watched as things fell apart between us. I had put an explicit time limit on our relationship, since I knew it couldn't last because of the darkness and didn't want to hold her back, and this caused a variety of problems. She was put in an unnatural situation that she never should have been a part of.

It must have been very hard for her, not knowing what was actually going on with me, but this is not something I've ever been able to talk about with anyone. Losing her was very hard for me as well. Not because of her (I got over our relationship relatively quickly), but because of the realization that I would never have another relationship and because it signified the last true, exclusive personal connection I could ever have.

This wasn't apparent to other people, because I could never talk about the real reasons for my sadness. I was very sad in the summer and fall, but it was not because of her, it was because I will never escape the darkness with anyone. She was so loving and kind to me and gave me everything I could have asked for under the circumstances. I'll never forget how much happiness she brought me in those briefs moments when I could ignore the darkness.

I had originally planned to kill myself last winter but never got around to it. (Parts of this letter were written over a year ago, other parts days before doing this.) It was wrong of me to involve myself in her life if this were a possibility and I should have just left her alone, even though we only dated for a few months and things ended a long time ago. She's just one more person in a long list of people I've hurt.

I could spend pages talking about the other relationships I've had that were ruined because of my problems and my confusion related to the darkness. I've hurt so many great people because of who I am and my inability to experience what needs to be experienced. All I can say is that I tried to be honest with people about what I thought was true.

I've spent my life hurting people. Today will be the last time.

I've told different people a lot of things, but I've never told anyone about what happened to me, ever, for obvious reasons. It took me a while to realize that no matter how close you are to someone or how much they claim to love you, people simply cannot keep secrets. I learned this a few years ago when I thought I was gay and told people.

The more harmful the secret, the juicier the gossip and the more likely you are to be betrayed. People don't care about their word or what they've promised, they just do whatever the fuck they want and justify it later. It feels incredibly lonely to realize you can never share something with someone and have it be between just the two of you. I don't blame anyone in particular, I guess it's just how people are. Even if I felt like this is something I could have shared, I have no interest in being part of a friendship or relationship where the other person views me as the damaged and contaminated person that I am.

So even if I were able to trust someone, I probably would not have told them about what happened to me. At this point I simply don't care who knows.

I feel an evil inside me. An evil that makes me want to end life. I need to stop this. I need to make sure I don't kill someone, which is not something that can be easily undone. I don't know if this is related to what happened to me or something different. I recognize the irony of killing myself to prevent myself from killing someone else, but this decision should indicate what I'm capable of.

So I've realized I will never escape the darkness or misery associated with it and I have a responsibility to stop myself from physically harming others.

I'm just a broken, miserable shell of a human being. Being molested has defined me as a person and shaped me as a human being and it has made me the monster I am and there's nothing I can do to escape it. I don't know any other existence. I don't know what life feels like where I'm apart from any of this. I actively despise the person I am. I just feel fundamentally broken, almost non-human. I feel like an animal that woke up one day in a human body, trying to make sense of a foreign world, living among creatures it doesn't understand and can't connect with.

I have accepted that the darkness will never allow me to be in a relationship. I will never go to sleep with someone in my arms, feeling the comfort of their hands around me. I will never know what uncontaminated intimacy is like. I will never have an exclusive bond with someone, someone who can be the recipient of all the love I have to give. I will never have children, and I wanted to be a father so badly. I think I would have made a good dad.

And even if I had fought through the darkness and married and had children all while being unable to feel intimacy, I could have never done that if suicide were a possibility. I did try to minimize pain, although I know that this decision will hurt many of you. If this hurts you, I hope that you can at least forget about me quickly.

There's no point in identifying who molested me, so I'm just going to leave it at that. I doubt the word of a dead guy with no evidence about something that happened over twenty years ago would have much sway.

You may wonder why I didn't just talk to a professional about this. I've seen a number of doctors since I was a teenager to talk about other issues and I'm positive that another doctor would not have helped. I was never given one piece of actionable advice, ever. More than a few spent a large part of the session reading their notes to remember who I was.

And I have no interest in talking about being raped as a child, both because I know it wouldn't help and because I have no confidence it would remain secret. I know the legal and practical limits of doctor/patient confidentiality, growing up in a house where we'd hear stories about the various mental illnesses of famous people, stories that were passed down through generations.

All it takes is one doctor who thinks my story is interesting enough to share or a doctor who thinks it's her right or responsibility to contact the authorities and have me identify the molestor (justifying her decision by telling herself that someone else might be in danger).

All it takes is a single doctor who violates my trust, just like the "friends" who I told I was gay did, and everything would be made public and I'd be forced to live in a world where people would know how fucked up I am. And yes, I realize this indicates that I have severe trust issues, but they're based on a large number of experiences with people who have shown a profound disrepect for their word and the privacy of others.

People say suicide is selfish. I think it's selfish to ask people to continue living painful and miserable lives, just so you possibly won't feel sad for a week or two. Suicide may be a permanent solution to a temporary problem, but it's also a permanent solution to a ~23 year-old problem that grows more intense and overwhelming every day.

Some people are just dealt bad hands in this life. I know many people have it worse than I do, and maybe I'm just not a strong person, but I really did try to deal with this. I've tried to deal with this every day for the last 23 years and I just can't fucking take it anymore.

I often wonder what life must be like for other people. People who can feel the love from others and give it back unadulterated, people who can experience sex as an intimate and joyous experience, people who can experience the colors and happenings of this world without constant misery. I wonder who I'd be if things had been different or if I were a stronger person. It sounds pretty great.

I'm prepared for death. I'm prepared for the pain and I am ready to no longer exist. Thanks to the strictness of New Jersey gun laws this will probably be much more painful than it needs to be, but what can you do. My only fear at this point is messing something up and surviving.


I'd also like to address my family, if you can call them that. I despise everything they stand for and I truly hate them, in a non-emotional, dispassionate and what I believe is a healthy way. The world will be a better place when they're dead—one with less hatred and intolerance.

If you're unfamiliar with the situation, my parents are fundamentalist Christians who kicked me out of their house and cut me off financially when I was 19 because I refused to attend seven hours of church a week.

They live in a black and white reality they've constructed for themselves. They partition the world into good and evil and survive by hating everything they fear or misunderstand and calling it love. They don't understand that good and decent people exist all around us, "saved" or not, and that evil and cruel people occupy a large percentage of their church. They take advantage of people looking for hope by teaching them to practice the same hatred they practice.

A random example:

"I am personally convinced that if a Muslim truly believes and obeys the Koran, he will be a terrorist." - George Zeller, August 24, 2010.

If you choose to follow a religion where, for example, devout Catholics who are trying to be good people are all going to Hell but child molestors go to Heaven (as long as they were "saved" at some point), that's your choice, but it's fucked up. Maybe a God who operates by those rules does exist. If so, fuck Him.

Their church was always more important than the members of their family and they happily sacrificed whatever necessary in order to satisfy their contrived beliefs about who they should be.

I grew up in a house where love was proxied through a God I could never believe in. A house where the love of music with any sort of a beat was literally beaten out of me. A house full of hatred and intolerance, run by two people who were experts at appearing kind and warm when others were around. Parents who tell an eight year old that his grandmother is going to Hell because she's Catholic. Parents who claim not to be racist but then talk about the horrors of miscegenation. I could list hundreds of other examples, but it's tiring.

Since being kicked out, I've interacted with them in relatively normal ways. I talk to them on the phone like nothing happened. I'm not sure why. Maybe because I like pretending I have a family. Maybe I like having people I can talk to about what's been going on in my life. Whatever the reason, it's not real and it feels like a sham. I should have never allowed this reconnection to happen.

I wrote the above a while ago, and I do feel like that much of the time. At other times, though, I feel less hateful. I know my parents honestly believe the crap they believe in. I know that my mom, at least, loved me very much and tried her best. One reason I put this off for so long is because I know how much pain it will cause her. She has been sad since she found out I wasn't "saved", since she believes I'm going to Hell, which is not a sadness for which I am responsible.

That was never going to change, and presumably she believes the state of my physical body is much less important than the state of my soul. Still, I cannot intellectually justify this decision, knowing how much it will hurt her. Maybe my ability to take my own life, knowing how much pain it will cause, shows that I am a monster who doesn't deserve to live. All I know is that I can't deal with this pain any longer and I'm am truly sorry I couldn't wait until my family and everyone I knew died so this could be done without hurting anyone.

For years I've wished that I'd be hit by a bus or die while saving a baby from drowning so my death might be more acceptable, but I was never so lucky.


To those of you who have shown me love, thank you for putting up with all my shittiness and moodiness and arbitrariness. I was never the person I wanted to be. Maybe without the darkness I would have been a better person, maybe not. I did try to be a good person, but I realize I never got very far.

I'm sorry for the pain this causes. I really do wish I had another option. I hope this letter explains why I needed to do this. If you can't understand this decision, I hope you can at least forgive me.

Bill Zeller

Please save this letter and repost it if gets deleted. I don't want people to wonder why I did this. I disseminated it more widely than I might have otherwise because I'm worried that my family might try to restrict access to it. I don't mind if this letter is made public. In fact, I'd prefer it be made public to people being unable to read it and drawing their own conclusions.

Feel free to republish this letter, but only if it is reproduced in its entirety."

Posts: 900 | Registered: Jun 2010 | From: Mid-Atlantic
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Default  Posted: 10:00 AM, January 7th (Friday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage


Thanks for posting this. I have similar issues in my past and the betrayal of my FWW made me think that suicide would some how finally make all the pain go away. I tried it and failed but I still have moments where it seems like a solution, reasonable or not.

I even get upset at my postings. I used to be a reasonably articulate writer and speaker who could get my message through to whomever it was addressed. Now I feel like I'm just writing aimlessly. I would like to believe my past made me compassionate in my communications but now with the betrayal I feel like a shell with no emotions far to many days.

The last few days I've been down at the bottom of the roller-coaster. Reading this letter today was very thought provoking and helpful. There was a relative who recently committed suicide with no explanation and I've seen the damage it has done first hand. My heart doesn't believe that even such a well written statement as you have posted, would make the pain for those left, any less.

Thanks again.

Posts: 269 | Registered: Aug 2009
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Default  Posted: 11:43 AM, January 7th (Friday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

It's all inside, man. It's you battling you. What our wives did, our parents did, our kids do/did, none of that is the problem; how we view it, and deal with it, is the problem. And by contrast, the solution.

The old glass half empty, half full thing.

I personally don't give a flying fuck anymore. I get up, do the best I can, and go to bed. I'm not going to break my back for a living anymore, I'm not going to do without because my adult kids are lazy, and I'm not going to risk heartbreak ever again. That's how I live, right, wrong, or indifferent; I don't give a fuck.

You've got nowhere to fall, when your back's to the wall.

Posts: 5524 | Registered: Jun 2006 | From: Niagara
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Default  Posted: 11:58 AM, January 7th (Friday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

I'm w/Jimi-all giving a fuck did is cause me grief. My house sure shows it now-I no longer weedeat, mow, maintain the house, trim trees, nothing-fuckitall. Kids can do whatever the fuck, I no longer care.

I always wondered about those folks w/shitty-looking places, now I have one. Best case scenario I gotta pay her half-so why make it worth any more? Actually it's better for me if it's worth less.

time wounds all heels

Posts: 5359 | Registered: Mar 2008 | From: deliverance land
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Default  Posted: 12:11 PM, January 7th (Friday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

LOL @ Fleetside!! You old dawg!! I love my lawn, or cutting it at least; fire up the lawntractor, throw on the Ipod, pour a tall glass of Beam, and go.

You've got nowhere to fall, when your back's to the wall.

Posts: 5524 | Registered: Jun 2006 | From: Niagara
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Default  Posted: 3:17 PM, January 7th (Friday), 2011View ProfileEdit MessagePrivate MessageHomepage

I make my 10 y/o boy mow now-he does a shitty job, but like I said-I don't care. At first I would do all the trimming & clean up what he missed, now I just don't care.

time wounds all heels

Posts: 5359 | Registered: Mar 2008 | From: deliverance land
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