Comboni Missionaries – They still control me. I’m still at Mirfield

Comboni Missionaries

This was sent to us anonymously by Boy X. In pevious articles he has told us of his time at the Comboni Missionaries (then Verona Fathers) seminary at Mirfield in Yourkshire. He claims to have been tormented by Bishop Lorenzo Ceresoli, who was then Father Lorenzo Ceresoli, and chased into the hands of serial paedophile Father John Pinkman. A previous article also explains how he met Father Pinkman again in King’s Cross or Waterloo station, where he now plied his trade as a rent boy.

Here he tells us about his feeling of sadness at Christmas and the man he should have become.

Boy X’s Christmas Story

I’ve always found Christmas particularly depressing and have to force myself to pretend all is well especially for the sake of those close to me. Christmas should be a happy time and maybe that’s what brings the unbearable sadness to the front , making it almost impossible to hide.

There have been times I’ve felt like I am standing on the edge of the abyss, having asked all the questions and finding all the answers and with that realizing there is no meaning and purpose to anything.

All there is is complete emptineess and despair. But something has always held me back from taking that final step into oblivion. That damned religion still lingers there. Fear maybe,in the sense as Hamlet said ‘Conscience makes cowards of us all’. The fear in the possibility of hellfire. Also there is guilt knowing the pain caused to others, those I care about most. I don’t know.

Mirfield Has Haunted Him Forever

Consumed always with guilt. A hundred good things done, do not assuage the guilt of one bad thing done. It haults forever. Guilt about finding comfort in the caress of someone who was destroying me. Someone who I thought cared for me. Even after the sexual abuse started, rape I would call it, I would run towards that abuser to escape what i felt to be a worse fate.

The complete indifference , far more than that, the humiliation and ridicule heaped upon me by another, the complete feeling of utter sadness and fear I felt because of it, driving me further towards a more subtle abuser.

What an idiot. What worse fate could there have been than being victim to the unnatural affection of the one who destroyed me for ever out of his own need for self gratification.

With Me Forever

The way I feel right now, I don’t know if I have moved forward or not. Right now, I don’t want to see their faces anymore. I buried them most of my life but now they are here, vivid and real. I don’t want to even write their names or say their names but maybe that is silly and trivial considering their presence is forever.

Maybe I was right in what I said when I first had something posted on the blog. the acknowledment to myself that I am still there. in Mirfield, after all these years . I will always be there. It’s where something precious was stolen from me, that something being , me. The person I was before it all happened, the person I would have become.

To read about Boy X’s abuse at the hands of Comboni Missionary Paedophiles click on Boy X’s Story of Abuse