A letter from Troy

A reader shares his experiences as an abused child.

Hi Amy and Brent,

As an abused child myself,I was bizarre to read the chronicles from Mr. Bren’t childhood. For years after being beaten,sexually and emotionally abused it was clear to me that society is in part to blame for ignoring obviously beaten child when they are right in front of their face in either a school setting or the emergency room. But getting discovered can lead to heightened abuse a home far from the police station.

After coming to school with a bleeding broken nose my second grade teacher turned me over to the nurse whom phoned the police. Well they pretended to be my friends and got me to tell the truth. Within hours i was back home with my abusive step-dad madder than hell that his secret had been exposed. From the time I was 8 I never trusted another adult and began to live in my own world.

Wonder why most of the abused don’t come forward? They have usually through this before and realize that they end up right back where they came from;the absers are angrier and can’t wait to take their sickness out on you,in this case a small child who weighed 60 pounds. #2 Uprooting them and being put into foster care puts an already timid kid into a place where you have no protection. Although homelike sucks it is the one they know. I’ve met several persons at support groups whom have been placed in foster care,only to be sexually or physically abused. 3. Call it Stocholm syndrome but although it sounds sick it is common for the childeren to love these maniacs. They begin to see bad attention as any attention,sadly they learn to love their abusers. 3.)My step-father who beat me constantly,knocking me unconcios etc…was never taken to court in anyway. It was the 70’s when sadly children were seen as their property and statistically unless you kill a strangers white child no one really wants to get involved to help these children. The cops in my case had several photos of my numerous interactions with them.

A friend of mine in high school finally had enough abuse and shot his father to death. We always thought that had his father done these things to a neighbor or a stranger he would have been in jail. But it seems that you,as a child,have no rights in the eye of the law. Often when you do try to get help the athoraties are dubious to interceded the confines of a family home.

Anyway, I grew up angry and alone until we moved to a different state and my abusive stepdad left my mother who was six months pregnant. Then I turned into a bully and stated to be a monster. Then one day it just stopped less than a year later. Instead I turned to drugs and alcohol to numb my pain which I didn’t stop until I was 35.

Amy you are right! Lots has to change in dealings with children of abuse. We need a revoulution in how we handle these cases or not be suprised when people like Brent act out. After years of someone four times  your size beats you almost daily you come out damaged . Who knows if Brent’s dad didn’t knock something loose in his head?

Thanks for this forum

Best,Troy

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Like sucks some days

The funk has rendered me depressed. Honestly i don’t really feel like writing, eating, watching T.V., showering. Just Sleeping. But i know better…There is a hill about 600 yards out from here, i keep hoping some sniper would put me down. I know Fat chance. Just how i am feeling don’t worry. Just Missing contact ya know. That and trying not to let some of those staff get under my Skin. Inmate thats a given, but when the staff especialy the ones with authority make a point of screwing with me it gets irritating…But i keep my peace. I really want not to be like i used to be. Even when they treat me like Shit i still say please and thank you, Yes sirs/maems/No Sirs/Maems. Ask politely and don’t let them Goad me into anything. One put the cuffs on so tight the other day the pain in my wrist damn near caused me to pass out. But i just caught my balance went to the shower and Never said a word. Like sucks some days.

-Brent Brents 7-18-10 430/p.m.

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Keepin my peace

I’m glad i got that sleep today. Cause it don’t look like i am going to get my for awhile. Not my fault. These two motor mouth little Lets get justice female c/os made sure of that today. Ya know i get hating me but don’t be a two faced cunt. All nice to my face then turn around and stab me by telling your little buddy in here who i am and how you feel i should die. Nothing like a bitch cop playing on the sympathies of an inmate who wants to fuck you. At least the other guards have balls enough to front me face to face. That i can respect and handle without feeling hate or bitterness. But then thats what i have to learn to deal w/ without letting the rage take over. I’m ok though. Keepin my peace.

-Brent Brents 7-16-10 10/ p.m.

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All i feel is boiling hatred

I realy try not to act on how i feel But fuck there just no way to ignore the ignorance. There used to be rules (Inmate Rules) that kept everything in check and Now days its a fuckin free for all on stupidity. My very first day in prison years ago I flushed my toilet after 10:30 p.m. I had been told by the older cons Not (one of the common curtesy rules.) The Next Morning a little 5′ 2″ neighbor of mine knocked on my door and when i slid it open BLAM! Hits me right in the mouth. Please don’t flush your toilet After 10:30 p.m. he asks then leaves. I could have taken him apart but i got the message No yelling after 10, No toilet flushing or sink running No Banging or talkin to your neighbor Keep your T.V. volume and radio volume in your own cell etc. You could have heard a mouse piss in the cellhouses after 10:30. Even the cops tried to be super quiet because they weren’t exempt from the rules. All pods here are loud like this it’s just plain insanity…Man i need help because All i feel is boiling hatred. I guess thats how people feel about me to. So much for being a good steward of faith today. Sorry Amy this place eats at my soul. And its difficult to see any good through the fog of hatred.

-Brent Brents 7-12-10 230/ p.m.

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What’s inside Brent’s brain?

Clearly, his choices landed him in the situation where he is now–and yet I wonder what factors affected those choices.

There is no doubt in my mind he does not function like most people, and he would often tell me of “blacking out” and waking up to find himself in the midst of attacking someone. There is a common pattern to these blackouts, such as what he described to me in a letter dated earlier this month, on July 9:

I had another seizure thing about an hour ago. It’s not so bad ya know accept for the stupid headache that comes at the beginning. The headache is like, Blinding. Sudden Burning intense pain. The rest is easy peasy because its a Euphoric Confusion and some numbness in my jaw and tongue with odd tastes and smells and my favorite part the eyeball dance as i now call it. Wow Dude! Thats some Good Shit Man! Ok the end of em suck because that confusion is real bad. Like who am i, where am i type shit.

A friend of mine sent me this interesting story that ran on NPR about the brains of sociopaths. According to the expert, people with little activity in the orbital cortex, which is an area in the front of the brain behind the eyes, have little impulse control. This can affect their moral decision-making process, and as a result, dark behaviors can take over, such as ones linked to violence and rage.

In some people, the article says, the orbital cortex doesn’t work properly. The reasons? Maybe they had a brain injury. Or maybe they were born that way?

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Am I helping or hurting?

I am feeling sad for the state of our country, probably because i am surrounded by its ugliest right now. Am i wrong? Are they programed to Drugs, gangs and violence and sexual exploitation because thats what they saw growing up. Was i programed to be encapable of love and compasion because of my upbringing? I know i certainly knew right from wrong. But what happens mentaly to shut that off. If you know selling this mother of 3 the meth or crack is going to get her or her kids raped or killed then how come you still do it. If i know raping this woman is wrong why do it. Why spray bullets in a house full of women and children..How do we stop us from getting there in the first place.

I look back and think man how absolutely powerless i really felt in life. Literaly small and insignificant. It’s taken a long time to realize its ok to feel the helplessness, and vulnerability. It sucks yes. But it can be dealt with. I wonder had i learned this as a child would i have developed in a different manner? Rape is sadly to easy for me up an upclose and personal crime. Its slavery at its worst i think. One forever owns his victims. An absent master of sorts. After the rape i go away, on to my life non the worse for wear but the victims forever remember me, And suffer my terror upon them, a slave to the damage i did. I have to own that a a responsibility Now. I own those scars upon their spirits. Only they can heal them but i must somehow try to prevent more men and boys from doing these things. I think about how constantly. It will probably become my insanity. How can i make a difference. What can i do now. Are there more Janes? Am i helping or hurting?

-Brent Brents 6-25-10 945 /p.m.

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I feel like the leper

Ya know i have said maybe 10 words in Four days to anyone. Probably less because most were yes, no please and Thank you. Not that i want to make friends in here. But when you hear people conversing all around you. Laughing and enjoying themselves, and No one will speak to you. It’s so lonely. Locked away with only my own thoughts for company. Now aint that grand. I wonder if anyone has ever died of loneliness. It’s to bad i am not a complete narcisist then i could be happy with just myself. But i am Not. Just to hear someone say something nice or kind to me would make my day. Sure once a while they say your welcome or a thank you. But Seldom. I feel like the Leper. At some point i am going to have to learn to forgive myself but thats along way off, i think. So not only am i isolated, understandably paranoid, Lonely, hated and a bit mentaly unstable, i loath myself deeply. So hey it’s a grand life. Am i having a pity party? NO. Just really down and alone. No one should feel this way, it sucks! Plus i am pretty Scared about having to adjust to population again. Prison can be a raw ugly beast with rules only an animal could live by and i don’t want to be an animal any more.


–Brent Brents

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Intervention

It’s been more than 25 years, and I still haven’t forgotten it.

I was eating dinner at a crowded Wendy’s restaurant when a woman seated nearby with a child suddenly reached across the table and slapped him, hard. He was about 8 or 9. He started sobbing, which only made her angrier, and so she began to scream at him to shut up. Then she slapped him again. She looked practiced at it. He cried quietly, his head down.

Everyone stared.

None of us did anything.

I couldn’t eat anymore. I started shaking my head, and the guy I was with–and I would later wonder at his own history that prompted his perspective–saw it coming and started saying to me, “Don’t you do anything. Don’t you say anything. It will only make it worse.”

I stood up, unable to finish my meal, and threw it away. Then I walked over to her and quietly said, “If you keep this up, someday, someone will report you.”

I felt disgusted with myself as I said it because I knew it wasn’t going to be me.

Then I looked at the little boy, who had lifted his head and was staring at me with wide eyes, and I said to him, “This is not your fault.”

I now know so much more than my 20-year-old self, and I know that bystander intervention is a complicated, complex situation that can indeed make things worse if it’s done with anger and blame and an attitude that leads to more violence.

But I also know I will never again stand by and watch someone being hurt.

How many opportunities did people have to help Brent Brents when he was still an abused child, before he was a predator?

How many opportunities do people have to speak up about suspected abuse in some way, and yet they do and say nothing?

It doesn’t have to be this way. We don’t have to be this way. There are lots of resources out there to guide folks through the process of being a Good Samaritan, and not simply a bystander. We can try to diffuse an escalating situation with humor, we can ask others to help us for moral support, we can leave the area and quietly and safely call 911.

This guide, for example, focuses on child abuse.

And this one focuses on adult violence intervention.

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Alot on the brain

From Brents:

As for me, well Alot on the brain. I have Jane’s letter here. I have been thinking about how i have changed in five years. I think i am a better person in alot of respects. But Still struggle daily with sexual violence as a tool of torture. Especialy in this type of situation where i am Constantly stressed. I don’t like the rage or how it makes me feel, Not like before. Before i nurtured the rage, hatred and bitterness. Now i feel guilty and saddened when it comes on. I don’t urge sexualy as i once did, its more a violence begets the rush type thinking but when it gets bad it’s a sexual violence that races in my mind. But i have a different mind set now.

I don’t have to have the release or the extreme need for the adrenaline high. And i am softer as a person mentaly and emotionaly. I don’t feel the need to be so rigid and powerful. I am able to accept that things are just the way they are. Plus i realy see people now Amy. Before they were objects to be judged and categorized according to my needs. Now i do try to see them without objectives. Just as people. But i will be very sincerely honest. I still can’t deal well with people….I just don’t have the mental capacity to expand in that way. I like the website. I can be 100% real without hurting someone accidentaly. I can be genuine and be alone with my tears of grief and guilt and sorry and bitter self hatred.

Brent Brents, 6-17-10 11:05 A.M.

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How do we help the Margarets of the world?

When producers with Investigation Discovery called Margaret for an interview, she told them she would feel more comfortable if I was there. I had interviewed Margaret for a story in February 2005, shortly after she was raped and beaten by Brent Brents in her home. He had stalked her for three days, and attacked her as she returned home from a walk. At the time of that first interview, she still had bruises on her face and throat from where he hit and choked her.

Margaret and I talked often while her case wound its way through the court system. During a hearing in Aurora in July 2005, Brents pleaded guilty to Margaret’s attack and also to molesting a little boy.

The day of the hearing, Margaret astounded me when she asked me to deliver a message to Brents for her: “Tell him I forgive him.”

After it all ended, we would call each other from from time to time, and she would update me on her life since the assault. It’s been a constant struggle. I have tried to help Margaret in small ways–by lending an ear, offering encouragement or helping her find resources, such as how to get her dog recognized as an emotional support dog because she needs him to be able to go out in public.

I don’t think most people, unless they are a survivor themselves, ever truly realize how hard it can be to piece one’s life back together after a sexual assault. So here are Margaret’s words that I wrote down before that interview with her a few weeks ago, describing the hell she’s been through and her own personal journey to try to not hate the man who took so much from her:

Now I feel like I should crawl in a hole and hide my face. One advocate told me that she’d been raped at 15. She fussed at me that I should help my husband pack up our things because I didn’t want to stay in the house anymore. One victim advocate told me that the way I looked caused him to attack me–that I was small, vulnerable. I felt like after that it was my fault. She told me, ‘You’re going overboard with this.’ I started crying, ‘I’m sorry, this is the way I feel right now, I can’t help it.’ I felt like I was just a monster, too.

Someone told my husband, ‘What was she thinking taking the RTD (bus)?’ It was my fault for looking dumb and short and small. That I look like a victim.

I’m not feeling bad for the man who tried to kill me but for the little boy who had the same thing that happened to him.

I’m always scared. Always jumpy. I’m treated differently everywhere I go.

I’m not the same person any more.

In my dreams, it’s like I have to save him.  It wasn’t the way he was born. What can a little boy do when his mother and father treat him that way?

I never think that little boy says, ‘This is what I want to do for the rest of my life.’ I’m sure he wasn’t doing that because it made him happy. And he’s still a person. I’m not going to say he’s an animal.

If it was me, I would want people to try to help me or try to listen to me and not look at me like I’m an animal or a monster.

When you hate somebody, it’s always there, torturing you. I’m not about to be judging anybody.

What would I say to other victims? Stay busy. Forgive. Forget. Because if you hate somebody, you’re never gonna get cured, ever. The best thing to do is forgive.

Hating is not hard. If I go on hating the person for what happened to me I will never get over it. I have to forgive in order to forget and move on.

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