I was the kind of six-year-old kid who was quite happy getting lost in his own imagination. I never had or wanted toys that needed batteries. I would spend hours and hours on the rug in my Mum and Dad's lounge room, playing with my soldiers, cars, Lego and Star Wars toys. I was a happy go lucky little fella who didn't have a care in the world.
It still saddens me to think that someone would sexually assault such an innocent little boy.
I stayed at my friend's house and his sister, who was 13-14, sexually assaulted me on three separate occasions. Of course, at the time my young mind didn't understand why she did the things she did to me. I felt so scared and she told me that I mustn't ever tell anyone or I would get into a lot of trouble.
I continued to be a happy little boy and buried those incidents deep inside. Fortunately, it wasn't long after that my family and I moved here to Australia from England.
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I forgot about the girl, or so I thought I did, until I started going through puberty at about fourteen. When I started having normal sexual thoughts I felt sick, physically sick. I felt ashamed for even having sexual thoughts. I started having horrible nightmares where the things I had been made to do were even worse. I started to develop a loathing for myself. I felt angry, lost, ashamed and disgusted. The loathing manifested into a pure hatred and it wasn't long before I turned to self-harm as a form of punishment.
I started experimentally at first by scraping a metal compass down my upper arm and then pushing the point into my flesh and piercing the skin.
The pain felt good. I felt I deserved nothing less than the pain I inflicted upon myself. There was always blood. I wouldn't stop until I saw the blood and when I did I felt a sense of relief but the hatred remained.
I continued like this for several years. It wasn't a nightly thing or even a weekly thing. It was when I felt particularly low and couldn't get the hurt and hatred out in any other way. No one knew my secret and that's the way it would be kept for many years. At about eighteen I stopped for a while but I found other things to ease the pain such as alcohol, marijuana and other drugs. I never wanted to die. Funnily enough I loved life, I just didn't love myself.
In my early twenties, I moved in with a wonderful girl but we both had our fair amount of baggage. Needless to say, we clashed and I could not articulate myself well enough in any argument we had. I could not express my own feelings. The hatred and anger, which had never really left me, took control of me once more and came out in ways that were very out of character for me. I punched walls and mirrors, smashed things and was just generally very destructive. I never physically hurt anyone. However, I became so scared that I would, that I turned back to hurting myself instead. Unlike before, where I planned the self-harm, this time round it was very reactionary.
My partner, at the time, and I would argue and I'd skulk away and draw a knife, scissors and even broken glass across my chest, arms and legs. I was quite vicious. Straight after the self-harm I would feel very calm. So much so, that even my heart rate would slow. I would feel ok to talk to my partner calmly and happily. I somehow managed to keep the self-harm a secret from everyone, including my partner.
In my moments of clarity, I felt so ashamed and embarrassed that I self-harmed. I knew what I was doing was wrong. However, I felt that if I kept my secret it could never affect anyone and would continue to help me. Like when I was younger, the need to see the blood was always there. I felt so relieved and satisfied that I had done enough damage for me to function just like any other person I knew.
On the outside I was confident, happy, funny and engaging but on the inside I felt like I was suffering a slow death.
Inevitably, the day came when my partner found a blood stained T-shirt of mine that I thought I'd hidden. I made her promise she wouldn't tell anyone. She did the right thing and told my Dad.
My Dad is one of my heroes. If I'd had a choice back then, he would have been one of the last people I would have wanted knowing my secret. Just like a true hero, he came to my rescue.
LISTEN: Insight's Jenny Brockie speaks with SBS Radio
While I was home alone one day, fresh wounds on my chest under my jumper, my Dad came to see me. I found it strange that he turned up unexpectedly. I started making us both a coffee and he suddenly asked if I had a steak knife that he could borrow. My Dad is big on jokes, so I simply thought it was going to be a prop for one of his anecdotes. I handed him the knife, smirking at him, and he asked me, “How would you feel if I slashed this across my chest?”
At that moment, my secret world came crashing down around me. I was speechless, he knew! He told me he was taking me to see my Mum. I felt so nervous and so ashamed. I always wanted to be the golden boy in my parents' eyes. When we got to my parents' house I could see that Mum had been crying. I sat down beside her, my head hanging low, my heart in my throat and my wounds stinging like Hell. My Mum simply pointed at a scar on her hand and I instantly knew what it was.
The realisation was like a punch in the throat. Tears streamed down my cheeks for the first time in a long time and my heart ached. My Mum had self-harmed and the thought of her doing that to herself crushed me. I have always been, and always will be, a Mummy's boy and I am very protective of her.
Suddenly, I felt how she must have felt at the thought of her baby boy hurting himself. My heart broke for my Mum that day. We held each other and I made a promise to her, to my Dad and to myself. A promise I have kept for the last 11-12 years. A promise I will keep forever. “I will never do it again.”
It wasn't until several years later that I found the right counsellor who helped me resolve the many issues I had buried. He made me see how angry I was at what had happened to me as a child. He made me realise why I felt I had to keep it all in. He made me see that it's ok to love yourself and that once you truly start doing that then you can truly love others. Today I not only show those around me a happy, confident and content man but I feel like one too. I am also the biggest kid you'll ever find. I will never let go of that six-year-old little boy playing with his toys and being lost in his own imagination.
Luke is a guest on SBS's Insight program tonight, 8.30pm on SBS ONE, which looks at people who self-harm and why.
For help, call Lifeline 13 11 14, Mensline 1300 78 99 78 or Kids helpline 1800 55 1800. For more help and support services, please click here.
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