There is help -- and hope -- out there

AP Photo/Pennsylvania Office of Attorney General/Commonwealth Media Services
The Jerry Sandusky allegations have shone light on child sexual abuse and revealed stories of survival.
For the last seven days, my inbox has been full of horror and hope -- personal stories of childhood sexual abuse -- following my column "Remember the Children" about the Penn State/Jerry Sandusky scandal.

If ex-assistant coach Sandusky really did molest eight boys over 15 years, as charged, then he has left in his wake a pool of young men who will feel ruined, alone and potentially suicidal.

"I wake up from [nightmares] and my wife is scared because I'm throwing punches in my sleep," one man wrote from Des Moines, IA. "What happened to me over 20 years ago affects every decision I make, every breath I breathe."

And yet every victim who wrote me -- men who were assaulted by coaches, fathers and priests in bathrooms, bedrooms and cars -- ended by saying the same thing: Help is out there. When they don't get it, a life of misery and loathing lies ahead. When they do, they feel so freed that they often wind up helping kids who have endured similar atrocities.


•   •   •

Gary Thompson was 6 when he says his father started sexually molesting him. But in a home wallpapered with violence, flying dishes and pointed guns, who could he tell?
"If I told," Thompson remembers thinking, "the outcome seemed pretty clear. My father would be dead at the hands of my mother. My mother would go to prison. And I and my siblings would be split up and sent off to relatives or foster homes. You tell yourself that keeping your mouth shut is the best thing for everyone."

So for the next five years, he lived in his own muted hell.


•   •   •

Many men who were sexually abused as children have ruinous relationships with women. They begin to think they are dirty to the core, shameful and dangerous to women. They're terrified they can't be trusted not to hurt women, so they run from them.

"Dan" was 10 when he began to be molested repeatedly by his older brother. When their mother caught on, she acted like nothing happened.

"The only time it was 'discussed' was by my father," Dan wrote. "He whipped me with his leather belt ... and told me I should be ashamed. ... I can clearly see his face in my memory, as he glared at me from over his reading glasses. 'That is something adults do. I am ashamed of you.'"

Dan felt desperately alone and, worse, as if he deserved his loneliness. "I was a God fearing church boy, so I thought I would burn in hell, that I was dirty, I was ugly ... I was a bad person. I felt like someone had poured acid all over me."

He considered suicide a hundred times, then one day he met a woman who stumbled onto the truth by accident.

"She confronted me," Dan wrote. "I told her as I cried uncontrollably, shook uncontrollably. Then she hugged me, and told me she loved me, unconditionally. Now -- only now -- my memories no longer have any power over me."


•   •   •

The sexual torture Gary Thompson says he endured at the hands of his father
seemed to worsen with each episode.
Finally, at 11, when the molestation was at its worst, his mother filed for divorce and left with the kids. Gary still hadn't told her.

And then, one day, his worst nightmare rang the doorbell.

It was his father, telling his ex-wife he'd like to take Gary's 6-year-old brother "away" for the weekend. "Spend some time with him," his father said.

"AlI I could do was just stand there," Gary remembers. "I wanted to scream ... but, literally, my mouth and jaws were completely frozen. The secret I had guarded so fiercely ... wouldn't come out of my mouth to save my baby brother. And I watched them drive away."


•   •   •

Two reactions welled up in victims last week as they read about Sandusky and Penn State. One is the anger from their childhood erupted again from hidden places. "In the wake of the PSU scandal," wrote one victim, "I find myself reliving everything I went through."

"It brought back many bad memories of my abused childhood which I too have chosen to try and forget," wrote a victim from Minnesota. "The pain never does go away."

Witnesses, speak up. The last thing childhood sexual abuse victims need is a moment of silence. They need you to tell a cop, tell the county, or tell a teacher when you see something suspicious between an adult and a child. No matter who it is. Pedophiles work hard at appearing trustworthy.
The second is that the healed are grateful to have spoken up and gotten help and wish they could tell the Penn State boys to seek that same help.
A man molested by a neighbor from age 4 to 8: "I was president of my class in high school, captain of the football team, the most popular kid in school. I am also an alcoholic ... I cannot trust, love, and I am constantly running to avoid the pain. Luckily, I have been able to address many of these things through therapy and the love and support of family and friends."

A man abused by his father and his uncles: "After 36 years of drug and alcohol abuse, I have finally found a recovery group where I can be honest about my past."

Abused at 10: "I finally spoke to a professional doctor and she helped me deal with my molestation. I wasn't afraid anymore, I told my wife, I told my friends, I told my family.......and guess what? They still loved me."