I hope i am alone on new years eve this time. why am i forced to celebrate with other people? every year it feels just like a routine, so annoying.
i hate my dad to the point that i am wanting to change my name
Google should fuck itself with a rusty nailbat
Withdrawal from meds + period = everything hurts and I'm so fucking mad
I hate people who intentionally give someone with anxiety the silent treatment as a form of punishment. They know it drives them insane with worry and self-hate, yet they do it anyway. And it's almost always people who claim to love them. That's not love. It's abuse.
the escalation of my sexual abuse: It started out small. I was thirteen. She was my babysitter. First, it was the inappropriate jokes, the whispering in my ear. Then one day when I ran to the kitchen for a snack she grabbed my wrist and forced me to touch her breasts. I looked at the ground and didn't move until she let go of me. She started to kiss me on the lips, calling me handsome, pretending like this was normal. She would make me help out when she was cooking meals. She'd stand behind me press her breasts onto my back, touching my arms and hands even when it was unnecessary. Lots of whispering in my ear and stroking my hair. Then one day she came into my bedroom without knocking. I was standing in front of my desk and she came up behind me and started to jerk me off. It was very painful and when she stopped and I fell to my knees and started to cry from both pain and shame in equal amounts. A few days later she came to my room again while I was napping. I woke up to her running her hand up and down my stomach. When she touched my penis I kicked her in the gut and tried to leave but she grabbed my arm and dragged me back to the bed. I kept fighting her so she started to suffocate me with a pillow, and with her free hand, she molested me. She would make me kiss and touch parts of her body. She would strip me naked and make me lay down and she would take photographs. If I tried to cover my face or my penis she would hit me. I was crying every time she took pictures of me, and she told me that if I didn't do what she said she would post them online. She drugged me and when I woke up my private parts would be sore. It didn't stop until I convinced my mom that I didn't need a babysitter anymore, which was five months later. I can't take pictures of myself anymore. I can't be intimate with my partner. I can't really masturbate without feeling ashamed. I have nightmares about this, about her. I cried while writing this.
That annoying SJW is in the same class as me again... She makes every goddamn discussion about politics! Seriously, don't you ever take a fucking break?
I can't stand being around, looking at or even thinking of mentally retarded people. I know the common argument of "well, they're people too" or "I understand but not all mentally challenged people are bad" I agree with the first statement, yes, they indeed are people that doesn't mean I have to like them it's actually the opposite. I also can't stand the way they're coddled by society, schools etc...People often say "Don't call them retarded its not nice." Well I'm sorry but the truth hurts and the truth is they're retarded and there's no way to change it. I also believe they do not belong in public schools or at least do not belong in a classroom with normal students. My experience in school was like other's: Show up, do work, socialize, more work, repeat. Throughout the schools I've been to none of them seem to have a place for the Retards, no specialized spot on campus other than small classroom that they'd spend a little time in and then go to other classes with other students where they would often cause scenes distracting the students that will actually end up do something with their lives from work. Currently in my class (I will not disclose grade level, age or names) there is a retarded kid who sits in class making unneeded, distracting, repulsive noises and movements. I often find myself clenching my fists in class, and restraining myself from standing up and going ballistic on the kid with a textbook. I'm not the only who has a problem with the kid, many females in my class don't like being around him due to the fact that he doesn't understand social queues , or personal boundaries and the men in my class have a problem with him because they see him making inappropriate comments and advances towards either girl friends, significant others or mutual friends and my Teacher often shrugs it off and ignores the fact that he is making people very uncomfortable and angry. Now, I would never act on violent impulses towards anyone as a matter a fact simply because, "assault and battery" don't look good on your record but there is nothing that stops me from thinking about it. I could care less about them honestly, and I'm not going to lie, if someone came onto my campus with a gun and intended to cause harm to students one of those things is getting used as a shield, I'm sorry, I know it hurts to hear, it's because you have been told that these people are special and they need special coddling and extra love and care when that is far from the truth. When you're retarded and you don't bring anything table meaning, you don't and won't contribute to society, I'm sorry but I have more sympathy for the Axis forces in WW2 than for you.
I'm so fucking sick of how much my own thoughts mess up my concentration. Especially when I'm driving or reading! I'm scared that I crash my car some day. It's always the same thought that pops in my head:"YOU HAVE TO BE GRATEFUL THAT YOU GET TO [do whatever I'm doing in that moment]! YOU HAVE TO SAY THANK YOU RIGHT NOW OR SOMETHING BAD WILL HAPPEN TO YOU!" Well it's not those WORDS that come to my head, but the idea. And then I just repeat "thank you thank you thank you" in my head because I just feel like I have to. And sometimes I feel like those thank-yous are wrong because I wasn't sincere enough when I said them so I have to apologize as many times. Sometimes I feel like I have to say either of those words out loud too. Even if I know that this makes no sense and nobody else is really telling me to do these things, I just can't stop.
My mom was raped at 13 and had me...didn't raise me...a family member did...but told lies of a different sort even about who conceived me...as cover-up. Her hate fueled more and those around her and permeated my life with destruction....so much horror she inflicted.