I am very tired of hiding and living in isolation and inner fear.
I am tired of inner shame that never seems to go away.
I am tired of thinking that I don’t deserve to be happy.
I am tired of carrying the burden of blaming myself for what happened, resulting in living a life of self-punishment, self-shame & all the pain.
I want to be free and unashamed!
“My name is Lang, and this is my life, but also the lives of so many others who have been sexually abused, traumatized, and who have been damaged, who have been destroyed.”~Lang Martinez
We process this damage by destroying and self-sabotaging ourselves in so many ways. We continue to ask ourselves, “What part did I play in this? Am I responsible? Am I accountable?” We feel, in some crazy way, that I somehow chose to participate in this act of violation, that it must be my fault when in truth, it was the innocence of trust taken away by a monster.
After 39 years of living a life of self-destruction, I began remembering what had been done to me in my past adolescence. Hence, I began the journey of dealing with the emotions & coming to grips with the rape and trauma I endured from this. After asking myself the same questions over and over again, the conclusion is, “it was not my fault, I am not responsible or accountable for what happened to me, and neither are you. Those may still be suffering in silence.”
I was barely 17, still considered a teen, and the monster was 35 and a grown man who had no right to do what he did to me. Our young lives were not important to those that took our innocence away. We became damaged children because of the crimes committed against us. Keeping the secrets of shame and lies that destroyed us as a child should have never happened. They surely would never want to be told the secrets of the manipulation that took place. Our lives have been brutally and tragically altered. We ask ourselves how can they be successful and happy in their lives, how can they flourish with their families knowing what they did?
It’s because the monsters have no conscious, no regret. The monster has no remorse or empathy. To them, it’s like it never happened, and they did nothing wrong. But those of us who are suffering ask ourselves why haven’t they been held accountable. I’m with you, and I feel your pain. Accountability is due, but it’s God who has to make them accountable. We need to forgive them, as hard as it might be, as well as ourselves. There is a kind of love that God only knows, and it’s God who only knows the real you.
My story began in 1980; I was starting the 11th grade at Westchester High School. I had just turned 17. My life was complete, playing baseball, racing BMXs, and even being sponsored by the bicycle shop where I worked, called “Action Cycle” in Playa Del Rey. I had a girlfriend who lived in the Valley in Northridge, CA.
I had a cool car, a 1969 Chevelle, that I was proud of. I would say besides all the drama I had gone through in my childhood, I thought I was happy, but that’s a whole other story you will have to wait for. Growing up in the beach area, I would have to say, most teenagers looked forward to the weekends to hang out at the beach, and with any luck, someone’s parents were going away for the weekend, which meant the PARTY WAS ON!
Now once you had the 411, it was time to get your stories straight with your friends on what lie you were going to tell your parents. You didn’t want to come home Friday night; you needed time to recuperate from the partying. At that time in the ’80s, it was all about the brewskies, it was either Micheloba, Löwenbräus, Mickey’s Big Mouths, and if you had the money and wanted to make a statement, it was the dollar beers because they were the color of money– Heinekens. Also, the teenagers had to find out who had the best bud (weed) back then.
Just teen, adolescent stuff we did.
The ’80s said goodbye to the commercial bunk weed for which you paid ten dollars a lid (an ounce). It had to be some good Sesamia with red or purple hairs on it or good hash. If you really wanted to take the party to the next level, there was always someone with the” 714s, the Lemons, the Quaaludes” that would make you toast. Yes, I never said I was a perfect teen! If you wanted to stay up for a day or two and feel the hairs standing up on your head, it was the “Black Beauties or cross tops” you searched for.
Now, if you were looking to go on an excellent high and trip out, then you can not forget the acid or some good mushrooms the teenagers did back then. And then there was the cocaine, that good cocaine, the” Peruvian Flake” that was so good everyone called it “nose candy.” You have to remember that back then, it was like $2500.00 a once or broken down to $100.00 a gram. That was a lot of money for any teenager back then, so they would have to get together and come up with a game plan on how to could come up with the funds.
When done, it was a special occasion, and only those who invested got to participate in doing some lines; it was almost ceremonial. However, it was rare when I would partake in the parting. Like I said earlier, I was busy with my job, playing ball, racing BMXs, spending time with my girlfriend, or making my ride the ultimate cruiser. There was a day when I did attend one of these parties and where I was told about this place a couple of friends worked at.
The conversation that took place was about this job and how I should take it. The deal was closed when I heard you get to party at work and still get paid! Hey, I was a teen, and like all other teens, it sounded great, almost too good to be true. Little did I, or the other teen boys, realize that was what our ‘monster’ wanted. He threw out the bait and lured us in. This was ultimately the worst decision I had ever made, but at the time, I thought it was my best. I never said I was really bright to catch on before it was too late.
The monster that owned the business was also known back then as a notorious cocaine dealer, and he didn’t just sell cocaine to his employees; he was also connected to the who’s who in Hollywood, CA. If you wanted some cocaine, he would deduct it from your paycheck. I, myself, never had money deducted. I wanted to make as much money as I could to keep my car looking good, pay for my sports needs, and take my girlfriend out to lovely places.
One day this man pulled me aside and asked me if I wanted to learn the cocaine business and make lots of money, more money than I could imagine. You have to remember, I was just 17, working there was a full-time party, I’d have all the money I needed for my car, sports, girl, and so my mind was thinking Hollywood and movie stars, and I said, “Yes!” So I learned the trade on how to be a drug dealer. What I failed to realize was that I was being groomed and used. I was a minor, and if the shit went down, I was schooled that I would take responsibility by pinning it on myself.
“You’ll be released,” I was told because I wasn’t 18 yet. Yes, I sold to those that I will not and can not mention and sold to the who’s who in Hollywood. I was there right in the middle of it all. Cocaine was the drug that everyone wanted and used in the 80s; everyone was snowblind. He, my monster, eventually took me out of high school by being a part of all this. Separating me from life, I no longer played baseball or road BMX, and I had to leave home. How fast my life changed. I had a mother who loved me with all her heart and was willing to die for me, but the thrill in a 17-year-old boy’s eyes at that time meant more.
In another article, I wrote and was featured in “Nobody Knows But Me, “God Did” Part 3, Link (https://www.citizensjournal.us/nobody-knows-but-me-god-did-my-story-about-being-homeless-on-the-streets-of-oxnard-part-3/), I share that I have maintained sobriety 3 times and 5 years.
I always get asked: “Lang, why is it that you always relapse after five years?” My answer has always been the same,” I could no longer take the pain.” After asking God to save my life, I didn’t know or remember what kind of pain continued to haunt me, that I continued to do this to myself. Then not too long ago, I finally remembered something that was so repressed in my mind that I didn’t want to believe that it had happened to me, and yet it did. I was RAPED.
That was 39 years ago that I was sexually assaulted, molested – “raped.”
I finally knew where that pain was coming from. What happened to me was so horrific, and how it happened. It traumatized me over the next 39 years! Now, at the age of 56, I had to accept I was a victim of child molestation. I was “Raped”! I realized I either had to accept what was and deal with this situation, or relapse was inevitable. I knew if I relapsed this time, I would surely die.
On July 25, 2018, I finally got myself back into Rehab. I had to get a foundation and get it right because I knew I would surely die if I didn’t. Each time I relapsed, I stepped closer and closer into the grave. What I had to get in my head was no matter what, there was no next time, that God had worked overtime on me for 55 years, and I had to get it right. Only through my Lord and Savior would this happen.
When I got out of Rehab in September 2018, I went to work for the same man that saved my life when I was homeless in Oxnard, CA. Every day in the program, I thought about what happened to me and how it happened. When I got out of rehab, the first thing I did was to ask someone if they could do a search for this individual, this monster who raped me, but we could not find any information about him, so I assumed that he was dead. It was possible; he would now be in his 70’s.
Because I lied to myself by telling myself that this individual was dead, I could finally sleep without the nightmares. How wrong I was because I still have nightmares, and I continually remember other events that happened. I knew I needed much more than working a twelve-step program and attending church. I needed to talk to someone. So, I put myself in therapy, but the anger was overwhelming until finally, I went to Mission Church, and there was a service being shared about anger; I finally understood!
I would like to share this video on anger with you for those it may help: https://vimeo.com/293957005 …
I would also like to share with you a little about the service. It’s about those who did the things they did to us, and they’re dead, so they will never apologize. It was also about those that are still alive, and I don’t know if they do or don’t realize what they did, and they will never tell you that they are sorry. It was the beginning of my healing up until recently.
In October, a friend I trusted and who knows my story asked me what the name of the man who molested me was. Lo and behold, my friend found that individual on Facebook. There was a picture of him from years past, a face I will never forget. It also said the name of a company that he owned. So, I had to get the number of the company. I needed to make that call. I wanted to know if this man would remember what he had done to me. Would he ever be accountable? would he apologize?
I just needed to know. I made the call. The receptionist answered the phone. I asked if he was there, and she said, “Yes.” She asked my name, and I said say it’s Lang. At that point, the emotions were overwhelming. I was going to talk about the monster who ruined my childhood, who ruined my life.
The phone was answered on the first ring. I heard a familiar voice, “Is this Lang, Lang Hough”? I said, “Yes.” He said, “Lang, what have you been doing? I’ve been thinking about you for 37 years.” I said, “No, it’s actually been 39 years, and I believe I’ve been thinking about you also.” I can’t share all the details of that call, but there has been more than one conversation I had with this sick man.
Actually, there is one part in that first conversation I will share with you that I remembered happened back then.
I said to him, “Do you remember when my Mother put that gun to your forehead and was going to kill you because she said she wanted her property back”? His response, “Yes, I do, Lang! Your Mother was crazy!”
I said to him, “No, my Mother loved me; she was trying to protect me!” I realize now that my Mother knew for all those years what had happened to me and not just my pain but the pain she carried in her heart knowing what happened to her little boy …The Story Continues.
Lang Martinez is a Trauma Survivor, Unconventional Advocate, Recovery Mentor, Speaker, and Hope Dealer.
God Only Knows or King & Country
“Wide awake while the world is sound a sleepin.’
Too afraid of what might show up while you’re dreamin.’
Nobody, nobody, nobody sees you
Nobody, nobody would believe you
Every day you try to pick up all the pieces.
All the memories that somehow never leave you.
You keep a cover over every single secret.
So afraid if someone saw them, they would leave.
For the lonely, the ashamed, the misunderstood, and
the ONES TO BLAME…
What if we could start over.
We can start over!