I had a crush on someone but i found out that my best friend likes him so i shipped her with my crush but i never told her or anyone i had a crush on him we were Classmates but now were separated Because we graduated i was only 8 years old at that time tho and i dont have a crush on him anymore i like fictional characters now.
I'm so fucked. I'm nearly 40 and only worked a full year in my life. This is so because I have depression since I was 17 and my mother sheltered me too much. Now I have no work experience or resume to show for. No one will employ me. I've tried getting job in two places and both rejected me last week.
I don't know if I want sex or i'm just afraid of women. Guess all the mocking I endured by girls when I went through school didn't help
nothing matters anymore, I just want to be left alone.
how to manage angr my cousin called me a nigger and were both blk btw but i havent swen or heard from him in 6 years our mothers thwn yell at each other and my nana now know amd says that my aunt *my cousins mom* has been body shaming family members my nana said "missy is making exuse for her son being rude tk his cousin who 14 for asking to get kn touch amd body shaming my daughter*my mom* and other family member and trying to make exuses for callljng my grand baby the n word! im gonna beat her ass" *btw my family is mostly white except for my uncle and my cousin and me* should i aid my nana in beating my aunt *her sister ass*
I learned long ago to never let the world see you beaten. If you're broken, don't show it. Hold your head high and push on. In public, I am able to portray confidence, charm and humor like nothing. My wit is quick and my thinking quicker. When im alone though, my face hurts from putting on the show. im tired. I hate myself. I hate how much of a chameleon I am. I bury my sensitivities and shortcomings. the only time my real face got shown, if only briefly was when I wore a tanktop and someone saw all the scars on my forearm. He asked idly and I gave him a curt and cold dismissive response. I don't want to talk about myself. I can't trust anybody anymore. Relationships shoving my past in my face, reminding me of how bad a person I actually am. people I called friends only showing their true nature as backstabbing serpents. Being played the fool over and over again. Not anymore.
I'm always helping people get through there problems but what about me I'm constantly going under and I have to put on a smile for everyone I can't even hate in peace because I always have to be the stable one each day I'm slowly dying on the inside and I didn't realize how bad it was until I had to pray to die I need help but it's no use what,do I do
how does someone get to know and love themselves and how do you know what you truly want in life
are people who are bisexual just going through a phase to become fully gay? i'm worried that my bf will become fully gay and leave me for a man
The woman who sexually abused me as a child sent me an envelope sealed with gold tape in the mail. In the living room, I opened it. A letter and eight photographs spilled out. Photographs of me, and her, and my sister, when she used to take care of me. Photographs of her with her arm around me at DisneyLand, Photographs of her with her hands on my shoulders a family picnic. I felt nauseous. I laced my hands behind my head and sat on the sofa. On the wallpaper in front of me, roses appeared to drift, rotate, swap places. I went out the backdoor, into the forest and trudged through ice and snow. I pressed my forehead against the trunk of a tree, and the memories came: her holding me down on my bed, her hands on my throat, on my wrists, on my privates; her hands on my mouth when I cried too loudly; my little hands pushing at her chin, pushing her face away from me, trying to get up off the bed, and her violently forcing me back down. In the forest, I slumped onto the ground and hyperventilated. I pulled at my hair, then hugged myself to keep my hands from hurting myself. I trembled and trembled. I can't keep living like this. I need help. I need a restraining order. But I'm afraid of the police, afraid of the questions they'll ask me. I cannot stay in the past, and I cannot move forward.