What is Therapy Like?

Aug 15

How therapy for adult male survivors of childhood sexual abuse can save your life

Like I mentioned in the post about “Why now?”, I knew that the abuse was presenting itself in my life as I grew up; depression, anger, fear of men, dissociation, fear of intimacy, risky behaviours. But it didn’t really explode until later, when I had a kid of my own.

This shame and stress didn’t translate to a marriage very well, either. When we went to talk to someone about it, we decided after the first session that the time was better spent working on me.

Even then, it was weird talking to a stranger about it in a one-on-one session. But at the same time liberating. The slow discovery of how it had been affecting me over the years was like a light bulb. Unfortunately, the bulb illuminated some pretty dark shit, so I retreated for a while. Back to “why the fuck would anyone ever want to unearth this shit?”

I finished up the individual therapy sessions that we got covered under our employee assistance plan, and left it alone. About a year later, after some of my own research - I couldn’t get it out of my head - I found I needed and wanted more specific help or guidance. Oddly enough, the place I ended up was where, a year or more before, the first therapist had recommended I go next. I even found the number she gave me, stuck to my notes that I reviewed before going. At the time, I just knew I was “done”, muffled a thanks, and shoved the number into my notebook so I could get the hell out of there.

The Circle Completes

That place was The BC Society for Male Survivors of Sexual Abuse (BCSMSSA). I signed up, and went in looking for a cure. Seriously. Something like, “Awesome, you guys are experts in this, please remove all these thoughts from my head right now. Just grab one and pull, it should come out easily. I’m sure it won’t take the full 12 weeks. Zippity do dah, thanks. Mission accomplished!”

I ended up doing three of those 12-week rotations of group therapy sessions there.

Yes, I signed up and paid for more. Two-and-a-half hours for 36 weeks, spread over a year and a half, with a group of kick ass guys and a phenomenal session leader. And I probably could have done more. Unpacking 40 years of shit from your brain is a lot of work.

But it was worth it and has probably saved my life.

Getting to Know Groups

It was easy to get over the newness of it and find out it was a safe space. We all met each other, this group of eight to ten guys, some of whom had been there before and several newbies. The sessions were led by the group’s founder, Don Wright. Most nights, Mr. Wright led the sessions while others were participant-led if there was a pressing issue or concern. We had good conversations, asked questions, had some highs and had some lows.

My mind set when I started into the sessions was, why is this taking so long and why are there people who have come back? It didn’t take long to realize that it is not quick. And it is not a piece of me I could peel off like a leech or unplug and discard. It was intertwined with a whole lot of other stuff: you are a whole person and it affects your whole person

There were occasional, short exercises we did in the group, too, as well, that were meant to unleash ‘this’, and tap into ‘that’. Now, I am not a fan of woo, and can’t stand adult games during meetings and conferences. BUT do these! What seemed on the surface to be an overly simple writing exercise was one of the most powerful things I did there. I still remember it and refer back to it often.

I realized that the people in the room had an incredible amount of tenacity and courage to be there and face it. I also realized that there were so many more guys NOT in the room, dealing with it on their own, perhaps through addictions. They had no less tenacity and courage, just not the right means, or hand up, or connection, sometimes coupled with an albatross around their neck.

The biggest thing I was able to take away was a greater understanding of the bigger picture: we are all hot messes in our own ways. I got explanations to some of the reasons why stuff is the way it is, and took away tools I could use to move the fuck forward. It was like coming out of fog.

So, no, I didn’t get my “cure”. I did get some tools to help cope. And I’m still looking to learn ways to live instead of just survive.

Ripping Off Band-Aids

It does take work, mentally. Some nights I would leave pumped because someone had a breakthrough. Sometimes I would be in a funk because I realized something about myself, or my mind went back to those abusive events. Sometimes it wouldn’t hit me for two days and I would find myself misted up, wondering why I was thinking about something.

I used to drive everywhere with my iPod plugged into my radio so I always had rockin tunes blaring. One night, on my way back from a particularly challenging session, I realized I didn’t have my music with me. So it was just me and my mind for 45 minutes of highway driving. Within 10 minutes of me and brainiac, I had to pull over, I was so overwhelmed with emotion. I hadn’t realized how much of a barrier I used my music as. A distraction for my mind. It was completely terrifying, if not also a little cathartic.

Ripping a Band-Aid off your mind is quite a bit more intense than one from a hairy leg. It revealed a blind spot: that I avoid spending time in my head, keeping things at bay with distractions. Interestingly, Twenty-One Pilots’ song “Car Radio” which came out a few of years after this experience, deals with the same silence and it was a haunting reminder of my own experience, years earlier:

I have these thoughts, so often I ought
To replace that slot with what I once bought
'Cause somebody stole my car radio
And now I just sit in silence …

I hate this car that I'm driving
There's no hiding for me
I'm forced to deal with what I feel
There is no distraction to mask what is real.
I could pull the steering wheel …

From this experience, if you do go into therapy, talk to the counsellor about how best to have someone to connect back to, whether that is in the organization, in the group, or in your life. During those years, it was exactly like learning to walk again, but with emotions. Sometimes a laugh would be hysterics, or a slight would generate an outburst, or a memory would mean hiding an ugly cry-face.

The organization also has resources for those people in your life that know what you are doing and going through, so they will be able to understand you, the effects abuse has on survivors, and how to support you better.

Individual Therapy

During the trial process, I was offered access to some Victim Services funding for additional therapy, so I returned to BCSMSSA, this time for individual, one-on-one therapy, which also opened up a whole new world for me and that I write about in other posts.

I found I did a lot of the learning and unpacking in the group sessions, so I was able to be a bit more focused and pragmatic in the one-on-one sessions.

Some people also do it the other way around; individual therapy to help unpack some of the large boulders, followed by group therapy to help smooth the edges.

I would recommend therapy to anyone who has access to it. Most local groups or even professionals in your area should be able to help accommodate your needs or refer you to someone who can. Many have financing options available, if money is a concern. I would hope that perhaps more rural people could access more resources through more online options, now that we’ve been through it with the pandemic.

The goal though, really, is to just start talking. I will try to list some key sources of resources on this page as I go.

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