I'm addicted to online porn and have been for the last 11 years. I am 25, going to be 26 and just started my rehabilitation. Its tough because I have done it so long its hard to stop. Just needed to get this out. -STD
Does my mom really not believe? I often wonder about that. I was not a kid who lied. Not about things that mattered. Why would a thirteen-year-old lie about something so sick? What could I have possibly gained? I didn’t even have the words yet to name what her friend did to me behind closed doors. I only knew that she made me feel so disgusting and perverted. She would do things to me, things that I didn’t want and didn’t really understand. And by the time it was over, I had started crying. Sometimes, I’d be crying before it even began and she would look at my crying face like it disgusted her. But other times she would look at my crying face with pride in her eyes like my tears were her accomplishment and she was proud.
M/20. At first i was going to write about all my problems. but then i relised at the moment the only thing thats really troubling me is the death of my grandfather. true, we werent that close, but it seems to me like we are more similar than me and my father. Our taste in instruments, the need to create, alcohol (which is a very touchy subject because of alcoholism), and in general the way we handly things; being short fused in terms of what nonsense other people talk about. And most importantly the way he died. The main reason was a car accident, but how it happened is still a riddle for me, my family, and even the police. He could have passed out on his motorcycle because of the heat (which i dont like very much either, i hate summer and sunshine), or he commited suicide by driving into the oncoming traffic (which is a thing i would most likely do too) because he had a tumor in his heart, throat and lung i think. But in the end, i dont really care how he died. the decision was up to him. And now, every once in a while, i think about what kind of person he was, and as mentioned, how similiar we are. We drink, we make, we hate. and in the end, we are going to die the same way. leaving slightly different stories behind. And now i am left behind making his tombstone, because i follow his footsteps in some kind of way. and i cry.
I need opinions if I'm mentally ill or not. I've been through alot in life and was with my ex(first boyfriend) for about 4 going on 5 years. he hurt me and did alot of horrible things to me but because I never actually acknowledged them...they have started to affect me lately. we have been broken up for 3 years now. he died in 2015...and raped me before he died...i blurred out the memory and pretended it didn't happen...after he died he kind of ruined my reputation to everyone. he made me.out to be a horrible person and a whore and I've never been with anyone but.him. I would literally give him the clothes off my back. not saying I'm perfect but I definitely treated him better than I treated myself and most likely everyone else. I prayed about it and thought I had moved on but it still bothers me. he also had his side chick stalking me at the time way b4 he died(at the time I didn't know she was his side chick). her and one of the other girl he was seeing during the time we were together started taunting me and spreading horrible rumors and lies about me.i. ignored them. his friends who tried to hit on me and I ignored then turned on me also. I held alot of resentment towards all of them for a while. for his side chick bothering me, and his friends spreading lies, saw him cheating, laughing in my face,letting him use their car to cheat,etc I always felt the need to destroy all of them and get my revenge but I know karma will take care of that. sometimes I feel a little psycho because whenever a female gets too close to my current bf or does something I feel inappropriate,I feel rate inside and I don't want to feel that way.its not that I'm insecure but I just don't want to lose someone precious...i have no one else :/
I'm feeling more and more depressed lately...to the point where I don't know if I can even feel anymore or if I'm just imagining it. maybe I don't want to die...maybe I just want the pain to end....
I want to die because I want to get rid of all the shame I feel, and that makes me all the more ashamed because suicide is for the weak.
When I was still in school, I had a lot of sick days because I needed a break from it all a lot. Sometimes I'd fake an illness, sometimes I exaggerated a light cold, I always stayed home as long as the doctor wrote me my sick note even if I felt better sooner. I just needed a break every month, every two months, depending on how bad the year was. I always thought this was quite okay, I had very good grades and as long as I didn't get behind or missed tests, I thought that school wasn't so important that I should put my mental health in second place for it. I always believed that I just needed those breaks because i hate the school system, how you have to learn things you don't want to learn, and that it would become much better when I finally had a job I love. Well, now I'm out of school and have had a job for only 6 weeks. I do love it, but I already need a break. I'm currently at home because my doctor wrote me a sick note for 2 weeks even though I felt bad for only one, but I'm taking the full 2 weeks. I feel like garbage for doing this, but at the same time I feel like I'd collapse if I went back to work. The reason why I went home was that I did have a break down because it became too much for me. After only six weeks. Not because the job is so stressful, it's just that doing anything at all is stressful for me. I have no idea how I'm supposed to be able to ever have a life if I need a break so often. I know I have to become stronger, but how?
Heavy heart Emotionally unstable I don't usually feel like this But every time I did, i always want to drop everything and leave and do nothing But i didn't because I'm a coward
Somehow I wish karma existed so I could just do a bunch of really nice things and then the bad stuff that keeps happening to me stops. Or maybe I'm wrong and it does exist and I just don't notice that I'm a horrible person who gets what they deserve.
Ah damn, I actually rely on imaginary friends to try and feel less lonely.