After a tragic childhood, P.M. Leonard built up a shell, but he’s finding a way to see the light again.
As a child, my shell protected me from dangerous situations such as the alcoholic rage from parents. Those rages led to rape, incest, and beatings. My shell hid my expressions too, like a mask hiding my identity from the world. I felt safely isolated inside. I could not be harmed, but neither could I be held and comforted. I was a prisoner and I was the warden. I can’t remember how I got in here and I am scared that I won’t be able to find my way out. Where are those breadcrumbs?
I am 64 years old and I still think that if I let my guard down, my wounded heart will stop and I will die. Sometimes when I cry, my heart feels like the hand of god is squeezing it, wringing it out like a wet washcloth. God, that hurts! Does he know how painful that it is? Does he care?
As I grew into adulthood, I moved out of the shell and became the lone wolf, preferring to act without the help of others. For several decades, I functioned as a normal citizen accountant (self-employed) with a wife, 3 children, a dog, a station wagon, and a house with dormers in the suburbs. Life was good. I didn’t have employees or a supervisor to interact with. I didn’t give myself the opportunity to recreate my family-of-origin in the workplace.
I loved being a dad. What I wanted most in life was to be a good dad. It’s clear now that I was trying to make up for the one I did not have. Although, right now my children and I are somewhat at odds, they know my story and are grateful that I stopped the cycle of abuse. (That’s how my oldest daughter puts it.) Some of my saddest moments today are when I realize that I am no longer invited into their lives as often as I once was. My recent memories of being raped and beaten unconscious have altered my behavior to the point where my family has ‘taken a step back’ from me. They are giving me a chance to heal … alone. Ironic, huh?
♦◊♦
When I entered The Meadows, a hospital in Arizona, I was a half-inch away from falling headlong into the abyss. I had worked out how I would do it. Most importantly, I would not leave a mess for someone to find and have to clean up. I had one final trek into the Olympic Mountains planned with a sweet bottle of Southern Comfort and enough Vicodin to do the job without the alcohol. I would become cougar meat, never to be found.
At the Meadows, I discovered that I was depressed and suffering from PTSD. I had never sought help or medication for how I felt because I didn’t feel. In some ways, I was still in my shell, even as an adult. I just kept it in, and I just kept going. I also discovered how precious life really is. I still have a tough time with those concepts. When the two immature adults were finished with me, they tossed be aside. How is that precious? I still can’t look at myself in the mirror for more that a few seconds and I can’t tell someone, “I am a good man.” But I am working on that.
I was one day away from the mountains when I agreed to go to treatment. One more day and I would not be writing these words. Since my return, I have had two, maybe three incidents, that, prior to the Meadows, would have pushed me over the edge into oblivion. Suicide is no longer an option.
Thank you Janelle, Loretta and the incredibly patient and understanding staff. And a truly heartfelt thank you to the peers that held me when I just melted into unmanageable shame and guilt. I am a very private and proud man. To emote hysterically in the presence of others was both humiliating and curiously uplifting. In my entire adult life, I did not laugh too hard nor experience too much sadness. At the Meadows, I finally did both.
♦◊♦
I don’t remember the physical pain of being raped and I can’t imagine it, thankfully. I was 10 the first time. The ripping and tearing of being sodomized by a full grown male must have been excruciating. When the recollections began to haunt me in my mid-to-late 50s, I thought I was depraved and wicked. But then the memories became more real, the fog was lifted, and my vision became clear. I am not a therapist, but I eventually figured out why I felt like an outcast. I understood why I was the lone wolf, circling the social order but never quite part of it.
Today I deal with emotional pain. My expectation of how life should be between me and my children has been destroyed. That is an enormous disappointment in my life. The way I was treated often causes me to breakdown. I have tried to befriend the little boy who didn’t have a childhood, but he doesn’t trust me, or anyone. But life goes on (long after the thrill of living is gone), and I wake each day, wondering what drops of joy will I experience today. And then I smile.
I have not talked about the incest experience. I have a great deal of trouble with that one. The rapist, who was actually a pedophile, was my mother’s third husband. Sometimes I can almost grok his ‘need’ to abuse me. But mom? I can’t get my head around that one. I do forgive both. In Meadow’s speak, they too were precious.
Sometimes when I look back at my life, I shudder. I think that the sun should have turned dark, and the world should stop spinning. But it didn’t, and I survived.
—Photo Sreejith K/Flickr
Thanks for stepping up and sharing your story. I’m at a similar point in my life. Not sure how the family is going to to after all of these years living in the shell. It takes a brave man to step out of that shell. May God bless your efforts.
Please keep on the path to healing.
In my opinion.. if you were able to break that cycle of abuse with your own children, regardless of what other difficulties arose, you have earned and deserve the title of Good Man.
100% agreed.
Triple agree. And has Katy said, I am also humbled by your story P.M. It takes a huge amount of courage to put yourself out there like you did to share your story. Keep believing in yourself. You’ve come this far and that relationship you desire with your kids isn’t impossible. I’ve seen so many relationships make positive changes where once you might not have ever believed it could have been possible.
I am humbled reading this, thank you. By sharing you have given a gift to others.
It is courageous of you to speak out and share, I hope your healing journey continues and that you can find some peace.
I want to hug that little boy, he deserves so much love and attention. He most certainly did not deserve what was done to him
I hope you find some comfort from the comments of fellow survivors, we journey alongside you.
Best Wishes to you sir.
Kath
@sheepfoldcarer!
I’m greatly inspired by the courage it took to write your heart-ful story, P.M. As you probably witnessed at The Meadows, when we’re brave enough to tell our own shame-filled stories, we not only free ourselves from carrying that bag of rocks around into eternity, but in so doing, we give someone else who might be too terrified to speak, the courage to follow suit. And thus the world heals, one soul at a time. I pray your words will illuminate the path for someone else now. If I may be so bold as to ask you: what impetus prompted… Read more »
Thank you for opening yourself and sharing your suffering Mr. Leonard. Anyone who can associate with it is helped with removing the stones that weigh down their own hearts. I associate with very much here, I even had to pause to realize that I did not write this, I even lived in Santa Cruz until ’95. My abusers were 4 evil, older, semi-step sisters that beat and sexually tortured me. I now realize that they only did what was done to them when they were very young. What I see as interesting is the Totem animal that you chose to… Read more »
Thank you for this amazingly courageous and inspiring story.
Thank you PM. Love, Strength & Courage are soul building and qualities that make us whole.
This is astoishing — that it happened, that you survived, that you write about it so beautifully. I’m so sorry it happened, but glad you wrote about it, and glad you found help at the Meadows. I’ve heard good things about that place.
Thanks for sharing parts of your story! It takes a tremendous amount of courage to face pain and to talk about it publicly. Kudos to you. And, all the best as you find your way forward with yourself and your children.