After much thinking I decided to write my story. After reading it, some may call it dramatic; professionals will call it traumatic but to me and others who have gone through this road will say its pure horror. I am sharing it with the world, so others may learn something and I hope it will prevent others from this horror.
I am writing this with a tremendous amount of pain. Not an hour went by in the last 20 years that I wasn’t thinking about my sexual abuse. I live a life of pain, shame, humiliation and above all a tremendous amount of guilt. I feel guilty that I caused my father and siblings so much pain while never telling them what’s going on so they can act on it and stop it. I feel very guilty that I got married to the most beautiful woman and not telling her at the time that I was abused. She is holding me strong while she is suffering a great deal. Worst of all I can never forgive myself for not running to the police. I had the power to stop my abuse. How can I ever face the other victims who were so viciously violated by my abuser? If I would only be given the right guidance by the rebbe that I told of the abuse or by the other rabbyim he told it thereafter he would have been stopped. I can forgive them for not knowing what to do. I will never forgive them for not listening. I will never forgive them for not wanting to know. I will never forgive them for not asking more questions. I understand that you don’t have to believe right away an accusation but how am I allowed to forgive him for calling me a liar and not investigating after I was sexually abused in the most horrific way possible, after I was beaten and threatened with my life all while I didn’t have a mother to cry to. I am going to sleep every single night thinking of the victims I could have prevented. I have nightmares that they will never forgive me for what I have not done to save them. So I am writing my story and hopefully it will ease a little bit of my pain hoping it will save at least one child in the future.
Here is my story:
.
My name is Pinny. I grew up in a very chasidish family in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY. I was the sixth of nine children. I was always considered the happiest of the bunch, always joked around and friends with everyone. My mother always showered us with love. She was soft spoken; she was everything you can wish from a mom. My father loved us just as much, but he was very chasidish, frum and strict.
When I was 10 years old my mother fell ill to colon cancer. While she was fighting her life battle, she was always strong and taught us to be strong, never to give up. She was fighting her cancer until a month and a half before my Bar Mitzvah, when she passed away. My bar mitzvah of course was very different then others but it were the happiest day for me.
After the bar mitzvah I continued learning in the same yeshiva in Williamsburg since nursery until the age of 14, Pasach 1989. On the advice from a few good men helping our family, I was sent to Israel to yeshiva. They decided that since we have a large family and no mother it will be easier for my father and me if I am abroad in a structured environment. I was very excided going to Israel to yeshiva but after a month or so I felt very homesick. My mother passed away a year ago and here I am away from my family. I insisted on coming back home for the next zman. For the following winter zman I was placed in a yeshiva in Boro Park. It was a pretty average chasidish yeshiva. I adjusted well and made friends right away. As a matter of fact I quickly became one of the more popular kids.[rest to be published in Abuse Book]
I am writing this with a tremendous amount of pain. Not an hour went by in the last 20 years that I wasn’t thinking about my sexual abuse. I live a life of pain, shame, humiliation and above all a tremendous amount of guilt. I feel guilty that I caused my father and siblings so much pain while never telling them what’s going on so they can act on it and stop it. I feel very guilty that I got married to the most beautiful woman and not telling her at the time that I was abused. She is holding me strong while she is suffering a great deal. Worst of all I can never forgive myself for not running to the police. I had the power to stop my abuse. How can I ever face the other victims who were so viciously violated by my abuser? If I would only be given the right guidance by the rebbe that I told of the abuse or by the other rabbyim he told it thereafter he would have been stopped. I can forgive them for not knowing what to do. I will never forgive them for not listening. I will never forgive them for not wanting to know. I will never forgive them for not asking more questions. I understand that you don’t have to believe right away an accusation but how am I allowed to forgive him for calling me a liar and not investigating after I was sexually abused in the most horrific way possible, after I was beaten and threatened with my life all while I didn’t have a mother to cry to. I am going to sleep every single night thinking of the victims I could have prevented. I have nightmares that they will never forgive me for what I have not done to save them. So I am writing my story and hopefully it will ease a little bit of my pain hoping it will save at least one child in the future.
Here is my story:
.
My name is Pinny. I grew up in a very chasidish family in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY. I was the sixth of nine children. I was always considered the happiest of the bunch, always joked around and friends with everyone. My mother always showered us with love. She was soft spoken; she was everything you can wish from a mom. My father loved us just as much, but he was very chasidish, frum and strict.
When I was 10 years old my mother fell ill to colon cancer. While she was fighting her life battle, she was always strong and taught us to be strong, never to give up. She was fighting her cancer until a month and a half before my Bar Mitzvah, when she passed away. My bar mitzvah of course was very different then others but it were the happiest day for me.
After the bar mitzvah I continued learning in the same yeshiva in Williamsburg since nursery until the age of 14, Pasach 1989. On the advice from a few good men helping our family, I was sent to Israel to yeshiva. They decided that since we have a large family and no mother it will be easier for my father and me if I am abroad in a structured environment. I was very excided going to Israel to yeshiva but after a month or so I felt very homesick. My mother passed away a year ago and here I am away from my family. I insisted on coming back home for the next zman. For the following winter zman I was placed in a yeshiva in Boro Park. It was a pretty average chasidish yeshiva. I adjusted well and made friends right away. As a matter of fact I quickly became one of the more popular kids.[rest to be published in Abuse Book]
Where does the Abuse Story continue?
ReplyDeleteI am assuming there is more that was dropped in this posting. I looked for a link to a full version but could not find it?
ReplyDeletethis is one of the essays that will be part of my book. I am simply providing samples.
ReplyDeleteThis is just to whet our appetite, so that we should buy the book.
ReplyDeleteOf course, you take the most "croustillant" samples to whet the appetite...
This is called a teaser.
ReplyDeleteלא יפה
Good blogging practices dictate that if this is a teaser or excerpt, you preface the post with a notice saying that this is the case.
ReplyDeleteJust putting up half a story makes for a bad blog post.
Rabbi Eidensohn,
ReplyDeleteI suggest you indicate that this is just the beginning of the essay, up front.
Perhaps people didn't realize that all the essays from the abuse book posted here up to this point have been truncated clips from the beginning of essays, and not the essays in their entirety. I did realize that, and I think it is a good way to get people interested and want to buy it to read the rest.
ReplyDeleteThanks, now I might want to buy the book! when / where and how much?
ReplyDelete