It happened when I was 15; 44 years ago. I awoke from a deep sleep to unimaginable pain. A pain so hot, so gruesome I don't have words to describe it. Awareness brought the full horror to my mind - I was being raped - by my twin brother. That awareness brought shame. My father had warned us boys about "those men" who like men and boys. He warned that they did unspeakable things. Until that moment I never knew exactly what he was talking about.

When it was over I got up, got dressed, and went to the barn. There I tried to hang myself, but failed. So I went back inside, lay on the sofa, and slept with one eye open until dawn, and my father, arose.

Over the next 16 months my brother raped me about a dozen times. He whispered that I like it, that it was my fault it was happening, that if I told anyone he would swear I started everything. I bought into his lies.

For 40 years I carried this secret with me. Then my brother died and all the terrible pain, the memories, the haunting nightmares, came back with a vengeance. Within eight years my marriage fell apart. I couldn't relate to anyone and tried to hide my loneliness and despair by acting out sexually. I married when I wasn't ready and that marriage fell apart in 6 months.

Now I know, doctors tell me it is Chronic PTSD. The battle is now joined.