I miss my math teacher in junior high school :(
I'm an 18 year old female and a senior in high school, just to clarify. So last night I had a dream about getting really intimate with my anatomy teacher. Like, it wasn't full on sex, just a lot of touching and kissing and all that. I've always found him attractive, but he's 37 and married and he's got a kid. I have no fucking idea what that dream was supposed to mean, but og my God it was probably one of the best dreams I've ever had.
The realization that now I have less than a month left to do all my assignments and study for exams...
It's been my turn to write my part of a group project. I don't think I've done any good but I've yet to come up with a way to make it better. I'm worried that I just made the whole thing worse and I'm afraid to show it to others. It's much easier to do independent projects where I don't have to worry about dragging other people down with my shitty writing. When working alone, I can just scrape together whatever I can and submit it like "whatever, the teacher is the only one who'll see it and it won't affect anyone but me". And yeah, I'll be honest: I'm also scared of talking to other people. That's another thing that makes group work difficult.
I have 7 papers coming up and I'll be done with my major exams😆
I don’t have any close friends at all, I don’t really have that big of a desire to make any either though. I have two people I talk to outside of school every other day or so about school not personal stuff but apart from that I talk to hardly anyone else and I don’t really feel any desire to. I don’t really like any of the people I would call friends or acquaintances but we talk at school so I don’t have to look like strange sat on my own, I can make conversation as well as your average person but I just don’t seem to make any good friends. I wonder what it’s like though to have good friends that you feel you can talk about anything and that you want to see outside of school.
Take it off my chest: I'm getting too stressed out with my Biology exam. Honestly, it's already the make up test and I still feel like not studying it. I love science very much it's my passion but I don't actually understand why the spark just died with me. I lost interest in it. I honestly don't know if its my depression that makes me feel like this or its because I've been isolated at home. I'm soo distracted with everything I can't focus. I'm loosing my shit. I don't know if I have another underlying other mental situation happening to me. Whether I also have anxiety disorder or PTSD. I'm going crazy I just want to run but these legs, I cannot run. I could've just wished I have legs that actually run that can walk. I wish I have them so that I can cope with stress of my studies. Or at least I could've wished I have no depression. I coudl've wished I'm gifted to be strong so that I focus and move on. I can study and I can be happy. I want to put my shit together but it's soo hard. I'm soo distracted. I'm scared of the future when I'm not sure what it will be. I can't let go of my past and every memory I have. I swear it's hard to forget. I can't do this anymore... I actually don't know what's happening to me. I just wan to die. So that I don't have to think about these things anymore. My disability, my mental illness, my stress and the difficulty to catch with my passion and be that person I'll be. I might not be that person and I can be anything but ti's too much for me. I want to escape but I cannot. I really cannot run. What I mean it both metaphorically and literally. People care or do they? I want answers to my problems. I don't know why I can't find them. I don't know I can't solve them. I don't know anything about my life. why is this heavy? Why is this weird? People said it gets better. NO it gets harder. WHile I'm still the same. I can't stand up. My heart it literally heavy. I feel alone not just these studies in my Biology. It's other things more why I can't focus on this. Fuck this I don't know.... a;udfh asdoifhasdoifasfoiadsu'oasidujgads;oigujadsogijadsoia gadsoi'jf asd'oijf apsiudf adsijf ads'ijf asidjf aseiodjfasdiojf adsiofj asdiojf asdifj asdifij asdi'jf adisjf adsoijf asoiejf dsaoijf ads'ifj aweirf ew'pfua werifuaw r9ieu ae9foi aeifj aweiuwef 'ou''''''''''''''''''''''''''ofiaesf;kj adifj adddddddd
I’m just messing around, you said when we were at your house and you wouldn’t let me use the bathroom so I ended up peeing my pants. I’m just messing around, you said, and I believed you because I didn’t know any better. You drowned me. At the pool, you held me under the surface so long I started inhaling the water. I was just playing games, you said. You tied my hands behind my back and started taking off my clothes one by one until I broke into a puddle of tears. I’m just having a little fun, you said. In the boy’s locker room, you yelled at me to stop trying to grab your butt when I was only putting on my shirt and everyone stared at me with looks of disgust. It was a joke, you said. After that, I started avoiding you. I stopped sitting with you during lunch. I took different routes throughout the school just so I wouldn’t have to see you. You noticed this. Then, in math class, when I asked to go to the restroom, you said you needed to go, too. So the teacher told us to go at the same time. I didn’t look at you or speak to you during the walk down the hall. When we went inside the restroom, you immediately grabbed me and slammed me against the concrete wall and started beating me up. You were always bigger, stronger. I fell to the ground and suddenly your hand was around my throat. You told me that if I kept ignoring you, you would kill me. You asked me if I understood. I nodded. And then the hand that was around my throat started moving down my body. You put your hand on my dick and gave it a firm squeeze. Then you left. I cried there on the bathroom floor. After that, I started to hang out with you again because, well, did I really even have a choice? I would go to your house whenever you told me to, because if I didn’t you’d beat me up at school. There was that one time we were at your house playing a board game; out of nowhere, you flipped the board off the table and started punching me and kicking me real hard. Then you yanked me to your face by the collar of my shirt and started kissing me. Sort of. It was more like you were slobbering your lips all over mine. I wanted so, so badly for you to stop but I was too afraid to say or do anything. You told me to leave after that, so I left. I didn’t understand why you had kissed me like that. I didn’t care if you were gay or whatever but I couldn’t stand you doing that stuff to me. I hated it. I HATED IT! You started doing weird stuff like that to me all the time. You also started beating me up more often, sometimes for no reason at all. And you started spreading rumors about me. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I started to avoid you again. Then a few days later you followed me into the bathroom again. I started crying as soon as you came in. Like, really ugly pathetic sobbing because I knew you were just going to beat me up and threaten me again and I just couldn’t take any more of it. But you grabbed my shoulders and asked me why I was crying, and I told you that I was crying because I fucking hated you. I was crying because since the day I first hung out with you my life had been nothing but hell. I was crying because I just didn’t understand any of this. I didn’t understand why you beat me up and threatened me and then did things to me that only people who are in love with each other are supposed to do. After I said that, you leaned in and tried to kiss me and I pushed you away and screamed at you not to fucking do that. You told me to calm down but I couldn’t. I was absolutely hysterical. You grabbed me again and confessed that you were gay and that you’ve had feelings for me since the time we first started hanging out. You said you didn’t want to be gay, so you treated me like shit to try to convince yourself that you didn't have feelings for me. And you said you were sorry for everything you did. I said that I already suspected you were gay and that I didn’t care about that. I said all I wanted was for you to leave me alone. I said that if you didn’t leave me alone I would tell everyone you were gay, including your parents, because it was the one and only thing I could use against you. After that, you stopped bothering me. You stopped beating me up, stopped spreading rumors about me, stopped talking to me altogether. You don’t even look at me in halls anymore. And I sometimes wonder if I’m a bad person for using your sexual orientation against you, but you left me with no other choice. And despite everything you did to me, I still sincerely hope you’re doing okay.
Hi, How are you? It's been a long time since we had some fun time together. I just came back home a couple weeks ago. Congratulation for new your girlfriend. I hope you're happy with her. I'm sorry I cant be a girl you want to be. I cant even be by your side. I'm not beauty, rich and perfectly perfect. I'm sorry to beg you too much. I realize that I'm not even your typical. Wherever you are now, I hope you're fine. I hope we meet again in next year in the same place. I'm planning to take same major as yours next year. See you in the next year! :)
This is my #MeToo story. I was sexually assaulted, but not nearly as bad as most people, so I feel bad sharing and have never really told anyone, not in detail. When I was in high school, I had a friend who was going through a bad breakup. He asked if I would kiss him just to get his mind off of her. He thought it might help him stop thinking of her. So I, wanting to help him, agreed to kiss him once. But a few days later he kissed me again, even though I told him I only wanted to do it the one time. He kissed me again a week or two after the second time, and he started using his tongue and groping my breasts. I wanted to hit him, to scream, to do anything to stop him, but I just couldn't. I couldn't move, couldn't speak. It was like I was frozen. And he took my silence to mean that it was okay. He even stuck his hand down my shirt to further fondle my breasts. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his pants so I could feel his erection. But he didn't go any farther because we were in my driveway, in his car, and my dad came outside to smoke. I went in my house acting like nothing happened because I felt ashamed and I blamed myself for not saying no. To this day, only my closest friends know it even happened, and no one knows the details. But I'm sharing it here. I feel the need to tell someone even though it's too late to do anything, even though it's not as bad as some stories. I want people to know that silence does not mean yes. SILENCE DOES NOT MEAN YES. Not saying no does not make something okay, and people need to hear that message. If someone does not consent and say yes/it's okay, THE ANSWER IS NO.