careers

and their destruction by sexual violence and self deception

i am going to spread the following video online, and wanted to complement it with something i wrote about sexual violence.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ZbyOcrcMUc

I have lost 2 careers to sexual violence. The first was a direct result of rape. the second was a consequence of my breakdown, the final loss of all self confidence and unmanageable flashbacks. In the background of the following is the tormented thread of childhood sexual violence, a thread that I was unable to speak, even to myself, until 2018.

In 2005 I went to massage school in new Mexico. I chose the program because it was more focused on anatomy, physiology and clinical practice than the sort of woo-woo stuff that is common in that field. I had always valued massage and exchanged it with others although I lacked confidence with my skills. I was aware of the very positive impact it had on me. Going through that program was a wonderful gift. I had tremendous teachers and fantastic classmates. We worked well together and had fun outside of class. It was a beautiful moment. I learned a lot, and I changed as well. Reflecting back, the most significant change was becoming aware of unconscious sexual impulses. I learned to breathe through and relax an erection while working. I learned not to care if I got an erection on the table because my fellow students and I were all aware that it was just physiology.

Hurricane Katrina made landfall in Louisiana on august 29th, 2005. I graduated around that day, and began thinking about going. Some days after landfall there was a quote that I read. What follows is the best I am able to find now, 18 years later.

“This place is going to look like Little Somalia,” Brig. Gen. Gary Jones, commander of the Louisiana National Guard’s Joint Task Force told Army Times Friday as hundreds of armed troops under his charge prepared to launch a massive citywide security mission from a staging area outside the Louisiana Superdome. “We’re going to go out and take this city back. This will be a combat operation to get this city under control.” -Army Times

Reading this made me determined to help the people there. I fund raised selling some baked goods, collected food and medicine donations and hauled off in my truck. I ended up working with the common ground health clinic. It was an extraordinary experience. I worked with competent professionals in a multidisciplinary clinic. There were regular experiments in the provision of care. The city, the neighborhood and the work all taught me a great deal.

Afterwards I sought to continue my massage practice in a clinical way that also comported with the ethics of our clinic in New Orleans. I tried to focus my practice towards under served populations with a ‘donations accepted not requested’ payment policy. I sought out work with couples who had chronic health issues and taught them how to practically treat each other, intentionally working myself out of patients. I particularly enjoyed the minimal practice with pregnant couples, the few times I managed to make that happen they were so grateful. I eventually worked up a 120 hour free massage course that I taught once at the neighborhood house here in Madison.

The practice of massage was not just the beginnings of a functional, ethical career for me. It was also a gift to my spirit and heart. There were stress related issues that I had been dealing with since childhood, and going through massage school was a big change in my experience of what I came to think of as ‘managing my nervous system’. The regular practice of massage, and the daily maintenance of my body, mind and spirit required to do so were a balm to my soul. I have been lucky to lead a life where I have received many unusual gifts from unusual people, but intentional and safe human touch was the greatest.

Between 2006 and 2009 I developed a sort of slowness practice for the morning and evening. There was meditation, self massage, yoga, bicycling, etc. As I became more self-aware regarding my sexual impulses, I learned how to set them down more easily. Every morning and evening I would spend 1-2 hours moving slowly, and throughout the day I would practice breathing exercises or movement to help keep me focused. I sought other massage practitioners to trade with and support this practice of ‘managing my nervous system’ so that I could continue to participate in society. It was a big change from needing to spend all my time in the bush to avoid engaging in shit behavior, mostly drug and alcohol related. Despite all of this self awareness, I had still not acknowledged my denied memories from childhood, nor their daily impact in my life.

During those years I would frequently look for people to trade massage with. It was so much more effective than the self massage that I was constantly on the lookout for someone to trade with. I traded with all kinds of people practicing different styles. It was a wonderful opportunity to keep learning while also continuing to heal. One of the best parts was that it meant I did not have organize my entire life around my morning and evening routines. So much less time and more flexibility to participate in the life of the world.

I was aware that I would often get erections on the table, and so I made it a point to inform the other person that I would almost certainly get an erection, but that I was not interested in sex. Please, just ignore it and it will go away eventually. It became a rigid habit to say this, because some women did not respect my words. Over those years I was raped 4 times exactly this way. I would lie there, face up, and they would start touching me and I would disassociate. I would turn my head to the side, trying to avoid eye contact and disappear.

I had no language or conceptual ability to identify what had happened as rape, so internalized the experiences as my fault. Women don’t rape men, right? Consent is important, right? All of these women were left wing or progressive or whatever the correct term is. I must have wanted it? Women don’t rape men. I have to do a better job controlling my impulses, its my fault. I will meditate more, my practice of setting down my sexual impulses must become more disciplined, I will go to the bush more often to have focused practice. Violence goes from men to women, right? Women don’t rape men.

Needless to say, as my self-deception regrew out of my inability to acknowledge what was happening there was a corresponding decrease in my ability to practice. My denial of what was going on led to other experiences that severely limited my ability to practice, with that capacity eventually ending in 2013. I slowly dropped my regulars as I became more and more dissociated. I kept trying to rebuild my practice, to get back this gift that had been the balm of my soul, but it never worked. If I wanted to practice, every part of my life had to be dedicated to overcoming those self-deceptions that I could not even acknowledge I was telling myself. I was unable to ‘manage my nervous system’. It was too much dissonance, and I slowly drifted into my dissociation and accepted that safe, non-sexual human touch was not a part of my life.

The second career I lost was that of an arborist. This also had been a gift. I was removing buckthorn in the park down the street when a man introduced himself, and we realized that we had done volunteer work together. He offered me a tool for buckthorn removal, and then a job. The first steady work I had been able to even think about in years. I was so excited.

It went well. I like working, and especially with plants and trees. For a time my garden had more than 120 different species, some endangered. I remove garlic mustard and buckthorn for fun. Tree work was a great fit. I also had a bit of a background of rock climbing. I slowly came back from the place where I had given up on life, beginning to move my body again. I did not need to work so hard at ‘managing my nervous system’, I was wearing thick clothes and head gear that covered me and enabled me to live and work with my shame. I was happy.

I had to limit my employment to maintain my state health care, because therapy was critical for me at that time. I was dealing with a variety of physical symptoms due to my history of sexual violence, other abuse and various traumatic experiences. I still could not name what was happening, but the symptoms were debilitating. I blamed them on experiences like I had in New Orleans or the wisconsin state capitol building in 2011, where I coordinated medical support for the protesters.

I still pushed forward with my work as an apprentice arborist. I learned and developed my skills, and built relatively healthy relationships with my coworkers. They clearly valued my competency and hard work, and I was beginning to rebuild my life.

Then in 2018 I had a nervous breakdown. That is a different story, one I am unwilling to tell now. I finally came to the awareness of my abuse as a child, and the way that thread had warped every aspect of my development as a human being. I named the rape and abuse that had been done to me as and adult. I became able to reflect on my life as my life, instead of a group of dissociated events that I sometimes participated in. it needed to happen, and I am grateful it did, but it destroyed my ability to work.

The consequences were immediate and substantial. I desperately tried to avoid destroying everything in my life by avoiding them, while descending into drug and alcohol use that had not been a part of my life since 2006. I did destroy many things. I mostly stopped speaking. I stopped working. I put myself in very stupid situations. I was avoiding almost all human beings, including my dearest friends. I was attempting to study predators and child sexual abuse, but obviously could not get organized. It was a chaotic and self-destructive time.

All the good things in my life, from relationships to projects to work, got thrown away as I tried to protect everything good in my life from myself. Eventually, after 3 months, I collected myself, built a much more disciplined practice and therapeutic support structure, and began to drag myself out of that hole. I started working again, 1 or 2 days a week depending on my therapy schedule. I was doing it, I was totally dedicated. I was very fortunate that at that time my sister had just had a daughter, and she inspired me. The thought of participating in my nieces life was the corner stone of my rebuilding.

I kept getting better, becoming more able to participate in life. Then I had several experiences in 2020 that finished off the breakdown. I ended up abandoning work altogether. I moved to a cabin in the north woods for the winter, and focused on dealing with my problems and attempting to organize the raft project. But my final breakdown wouldn't finish until September of 2021, when I got off the raft. It was then that I realized that it wasn't just me I had been deceiving myself about, but the entire social network I had built.

I have done some tree work since 2020. I have climbed and done some felling and piece removals. I have even worked with my old crew a bit. But I cannot focus enough. Too often, the terror of the past imposes itself on my mind and I panic and make mistakes. Stupid mistakes that are not life threatening yet. Just obvious lapses. Tree work is not something that can afford lapses though. If I work I mostly work alone, the thought of endangering others because I cant get over some selfish woman who raped me is devastating and leads to constantly second-guessing myself. I can live with crippling or killing myself, but I wont ask anyone else to subject themselves to those dangerous weaknesses.

There are moments where I think that I will be able to go back to tree work. I would love to work with my crew again. they are amazing, compassionate human beings who were genuinely interested in building me back up through all of this. Maybe I will get there. I have done a little massage over the last 2 years. I sometimes think that I will pursue that again. Right now, this is what I have to contribute, despite the terror I feel when writing.