Moral Arguments Were Always a Waste of Time

This was really difficult to get through. As angry as I get just speaking these words, they don’t express a fraction of my true feelings. I don’t know if there are words for that. I don’t know if this will help, but I feel helpless, so I’m using my platform, which is something most people don’t have. At first, I wondered if it conflicted with my previous video, but after some contemplation, I realized that it doesn’t. My previous video never advocated disregarding injustice and atrocity. It never advocated abdicating righteous indignation. It was an anti-hate video. On the contrary, my commitment against hatred is what compelled me to make this video.

I think I’m done trying to make moral arguments. They all feel like bad faith now, like a waste of time. I guess if I ever do bring them up again, I’ll really have to consider who exactly I’m trying to convince, because some people have proven to be so completely delusional or dishonest, that it would be useless to argue – like talking to a tree.

Two videos about my abuse, about my current sleep issues, and about me trying to help a fellow survivor

Hi everyone. I spent the late morning / early afternoon making a couple videos. I was talking about what was keeping me busy and occupied the last couple of weeks. But these videos touch on my hurts, my pain, not news. One is shorter because when Ron came to the door, I meant to hit the pause button but hit the stop recording one. I am using new equipment, so if there is any sound or video issues, please let me know. Hugs. Scottie

I talk about my own childhood abuse and helping a friend with his own abuse issues first part.

Me speaking about my abuse and trying to help a friend who was abused also. I also explain my time management issues.

This is what happened to me.

The below is my response to a thread on the Male Survivor site where people were talking about intervening if they saw something suspicious but not outright abuse with a child. One guy commented that what if the adult later took it out on the child. Sorry but these are the memories and never seeming to stop thoughts I am dealing with right now. Hugs. Scottie

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Hi. That is what happened to me. I was driving my snowmobile to a basket making shop to cut up cardboard for the owner. It was a job a kid could do and earn a little money. The owner was friends with my parents. I hit ice, couldn’t completely stop in time, bumped the bumper of a large car. No damage to the car but the cowling / hood of the snowmobile was broken badly. That meant I had to call my AF (the male of the couple who adopted me, the woman is AM, their children are the hell spawn) who showed up at the place while I was inside cutting the cardboard in a separate area of the shop. He came in and started to beat me. My AF is a large man with huge arms and shoulders who was a barroom brawler when younger. The man who owned the shop was a former Marine and taller than the AF but maybe as strong. He heard my cries and AF swearing at me, rushed in to the area I was being beaten, grabbed the AF and pushed him to the wall away from me. It might have got worse but the other workers were now watching. I never saw what happened as very quickly someone grabbed me and took me to the other part of the shop and got me calmed down. I was so relieved. The owner came to tell me that the AF had left and they were going to fix my machine at the shop, so someone would drop me off at home. Then came the time I had to go home.

There was no one there to protect me. I walked through the door and closed it, and the fist smashed into my face throwing me back into the door. He picked me up and slammed me into the door, then turned around still holding me and threw me down on the floor. He was furious raging about me embarrassing him, and he would teach me not to go crying to others. Had I not learned it before never to tell, take like the … I was. The beating was bad with slaps, punches, and kicks, the sexual torture horrible starting with oral and going to hurt rape anal, and the humiliating thing he made me do after he finished in me was just more salt in my wounds. At least after he finished I knew it would be over, he had spent his rage but his anger would simmer until the next time. I was in bed in my little tiny room hardly big enough for a small bunk bed having been warned to keep my sniveling quiet so the AM wouldn’t be upset when she got home. I was told not to come out or let him see me again that day / night. I heard him yelling telling the AM that I was grounded and wouldn’t get supper for smashing the snowmobile and disobeying him. He told her only that he punished me. She never checked on me. The next day trying to move and get up was horrible. The AM seen me and told me to stay home from school. I was terrified because the AF would be home from work soon as he worked nights. As soon as she left I took a small pack with water / soda and stole snacks from the pantry and went into the woods to hide for the day. After the weekend I went back to school. Same story, I got hurt fighting with other kids, or fell off my bike going very fast, or one of the other ones I was practiced at telling such as fell down the stairs in a home that had no stairs. I was terrified to touch the snowmobile after that.

Unless you can get the child or abused person away from the abuser intervening might make it much worse for them when no one is there to stand up for them. Best wishes. Scottie

Best Wishes and Hugs,

Scottie

Scottiesplaytime.com

Protect the children from this

damnable stuff, finally! It’s well past time!

REPORT: Feds Investigate SC GOP Rep For Child Porn

I am struggling

Hi. I am torn up right now with memories. I am not sure what to do. I wrote one of them to Jill telling her some of my abuse because she has told me it is ok to do that. Still it bothered me. My mind won’t release. I am having one of those times that the vortex of dark despair is hovering me right outside me. I am trying to distract my self. Damn it! I am 61 now, my last rapes happened in my early 20s. I am safe. I am happy. I have a wonderful husband who is even now making ravioli baked in the red sauce I made. Yet the memories come over me in waves. I want to forget, I want to not feel it like I did when it happened. But … but … Oh hell, I am going to do comments to help my mind settle. But today my emotions are raw and I have memories that hurt. At what point in my life do they go away? Really I am 61. I am safe, it is water under the bridge. Yet …. OK hug. Scottie