One of our problems being victims of priest sexual abuse is most of us resort to substance abuse to deal with the pain and horror we have to hide.

To understand our pain, you would have to understand the betrayal that was perpetrated upon us.

I was born and raised in the Roman Catholic Church, attending St Charles Catholic Church in Dover NH. I received my First Communion and Confession there. I also went to a catholic school until we had to start going to Horne Street because the school burned down. It is drilled into your head from the very beginning that the priest, nuns and all the officials of the Roman Catholic Church are like speaking directly to God himself. Those punishments of the penguins you hear about, the rapping of the knuckles with the rulers, or sitting in the corner with a dunce cap on are all true. They controlled your life, you believed EVERYTHING they said to you and if you questioned them……well you just did not question them.

I will not get into it but I left home at the age of 13. I went from one group home to a couple of foster homes. The last foster home I was in was an incredibly abusive uptight, right wing southern baptist bible thumpers. I only stayed a week or so and ran away. I spent the night with two girls I grew up with and the next day the police department bought me to St Thomas Moore’s church in Durham until the social worker they had assigned me to got me into Teen Haven group home in Rochester NH the next day.

That night changed my life forever. I will not get into the particulars of the rape, except to say he made me perform oral and receive anal and oral from him. What I will talk about is the psychology of the rape. All the while he was assaulting me, he kept telling me to say the Our Father and the Hail Mary. He also told me over and over again that no one would believe me over his word as a priest. Then he told me if I ever did tell anyone I would die and go to hell. He gave me the reason for doing this to me was to cleanse me of breaking the commandment of honoring my mother and my father. I remember the whole time he was raping me I was screaming inside for God and Jesus Christ to stop him, I begged them to make him stop, but they did not hear my cries of pain and shame. Now can you imagine this being done to you?

Here you are, confused, scared because even before I got to the church I was scared outta my wits because I did not know if they were going to send me to juvie in Manchester. Also I knew very well what he was saying was true. No one would ever believe me what he was doing to me. As for my going to hell, well, again, hell was VERY REAL to me even at that age. I grew up in the 60’s, imagine the reality of hell to a young roman catholic boy. Dante’s Inferno was real to me. Now I was being raped by a priest who was supposed to protect me for one single night, but he allowed his perversions and sexual needs to overcome his common sense.

This priest took total control of my heart, my soul, my body and my mind.

I want to share with you one of the nightmares I started suffering right after I did tell a friend at the boarding school I eventually ended up at.

I am walking through the mist and woods and find myself coming to a cemetery. I hear moaning but I think it is more the wind I hear going through the trees around me. I see a shadow, then another one, glimpses of ragged shapes in the fog and mist around me. All of a sudden I feel something brush against my right calf. Then something grabs both of my feet and pull them out from under me. I land in some type of stinky goop, not really mud, almost smelling like an well used outhouse. As I struggle to get out of it, I only sink more into it, it is almost like quick sand but the harder I try to fight it, the more I sink into the stink. As I do these dead, decayed arms reach out of it and grab around me. My legs, my waist, my arms and shoulders and head are pinned and slowly they start to pull me deeper into the goop.I remember looking up trying to take a deep breath for my lungs and as I do a few half rotten skulls come out of the goop and start to laugh this hysterical laugh. All I hear over their laughing is you are going to hell in the air around me.

I am dragged deeper and deeper into the goop. My nostrils, mouth and throat starts to fill with it. I am gagging and trying to breath but I can’t. I am not dying though, I know this, but I cannot breath and I only wish to die. It goes on for what seems like minutes. Eventually I come out of the bottom of the goop, straight into the very pits of hell itself. I am gasping for breath but all I get is heated air from the pit. There is fire and screaming and moaning and pain. I can feel it in every part of my being. My heart goes out to the pain and suffering I hear. My soul weeps for it all. I hear all kinds of sounds that scare the living daylights out of me. Sounds of torture and screams and cries of why, why?

I am seeing even children being tortured, all of them screaming and crying out for God and Jesus Christ to save them, just like I had done while the priest was raping me, yet even here too, these beings we all believed in and prayed to did not hear these young innocent cries of the children. I wept for them like I had never wept for anyone before. My tears are all hot from the fires and pain and horrors I am witnessing.

The heat of the fires are scorching me but not burning me. In a way the goop that is all over me protects me from the full heat of the blaze. All of a sudden three demons dressed as priests grab me and drag me to a room. There is an assembly of men, all of them from the rulers of the roman catholic church.

I cannot repeat the things they say to me or the things they did to me in that room. Suffice it to say that it is ten thousand times worse than what the priest did to me. I can only say think of the tortures and sadism of the Inquisitions That is just a small idea of what these perverts of religion did to me for speaking out against the evil they do. I still cannot deal with some of these nightmares. I think though you can use your own imagination with what I have already told you to understand why I cannot tell this part of the nightmare. It is still too painful, even after 34 years, they are still too painful to deal with yet.

When I wake up from one of these nightmares, I am covered in sweat and just twisted. The nightmares are very real to me. It is no wonder that I turned to drugs and alcohol to block these nightmares because it seemed these were the only substances that I could use to block them? Most of us victims of these priests do. It takes a lot of therapy to learn how to deal with nightmares like I have….and I know many other victims have of these perverted priests.

For decades I took any and all drugs and drank anything I could. My poisons were mostly weed, crown royal and molson ale. I remember some friend and I counted all the blue bags I had saved from the crown royal I drank in one year. It was over 200 bags. That is a lot of alcohol if you ask me considering I normally drank about a six pack or a 12 pack of molson with it. Plus all the weed I used to smoke. I prided myself on being able to out smoke and put anyone under the table. I remember smoking through a quarter pound of really boss herb in ten days and buying two more ounces and smoking that within another week.

I am now pretty much clean and sober. I really no longer drink. Maybe a six pack if I am lucky every four or so months. Heck I bought a bottle of smirnoff and peach snapps two new years ago and they still sit half drank in my fridge. I learned through my nature and wildlife photography, my love of nature and backpacking, that I can find other ways of “escaping” the pains of the past and looking at beauty again.

I lived in ugliness for many many decades. Through my nature and wildlife photography I have started finding the real beauty of the world around me again.

I also would love to ask his High Unholiness Papal Bullshitter Pope Benedict, or many of the bishops and arch bishops and priests who did this to us children and teens, how they would feel to have even ONE of my nightmares, let alone where you have these kinds of nightmares over and over again for weeks at a time. Is it no wonder I became an insomniac? Is it no wonder why I turned to drugs and alcohol to deal with all of this?

Right after this priest raped me I became a pyromaniac. I burned a lot of things. I even got arrested at 14, about two or three weeks later for burning a box truck at the railroad tracks right down from the Teen Haven group home which got me sent to Austin Cate Academy in Center Strafford New Hampshire.

I would also love to hear how sorry the Papal Bullshitter is right to my face. Yet he is too punk and believes that child pornography and sex between an adult and child is considered normal, his very own words he gave in his christmas address. If you do not believe this, just google it and you will see I am right.

So Papal Bullshitter, Pope Benedict, what do you say? Care to have a couple of my nightmares? Oh no I already know what your doom is. Seeing you protected those who harmed innocent children. Seeing you allowed these perversions to happen and covered it up. Seeing you do not care about the suffering of us children. Well you are going to be spending a long eternity in the very hell of the nightmares I have had to endure in my life. I see you in the goop Unhonorable Papal Bullshitter, with your bishops and priests all around you, getting more than pitchforks shoved up your anal cavities.