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Alisha is my 2 year old headmate. Being a 2 year old she has a lot of tantrums.... And also the fact that she exsists reminds me that when the body was 2 I was already being sexually abused..... So I feel resentment for a 2 year old, which I feel bad for , I feel like that makes me like my father . And I don't remember what 2 year old me liked , so it's harder to take care of her then lily.
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Been having a hard time. Just feel unhappy, confused and hurt.
Want to buy this and that and make more money. I'm trying but I feel like crap when my mom says that I don't work. Wtf? So I guess my new part time job doesn't mean anything? Or the fact that I've been published a few times this summer? Yeah, sure some aren't paid but fauck I want to be a writer so I got to do what I got to do.
Just frustrated since I work too hard to get comments like that.
And I understand that my mom is hurting but Jesus did she forget that I loss my stepdad too?
Maybe I'm mad too because my mom has to downgrade now that stepdad (her husband is gone). She wanted a house, but now has to move into a condo. She has been dealing with all the paperwork and whatnot.
I feel like a failure in-between. Like I suck at everything I do.
Just a lot on my mind and a lot to do.
I am terrified financially. I am just frustrated for, yet again, not getting paid for two weeks. I get that you don't usually get paid the first week but ugh just annoyed and scared. I just want a break sometimes, but can't with realtor, who sold mom and stepdad this house, coming back this week to take pictures in order to put the house up for sale.
Maybe it's because so much has happened from 05/15/16 until now--losing stepdad, losing best friend's little sister literally no more than 24 hours after stepdad's service, a potential romance with a friend from college--who've I liked forever--fizzling out fast, losing a friend (although we talk again, but I keep them at arms length), and my so called best friend/colleague basically distancing herself when it comes to what I'm going through (can you believe she told me just days after his death to just "put your pain into your work").
Yeah, so this just sucks. Like it can't get any worst, then it does.
Hi to anyone who reads this and thankyou for taking the time. I recently went to the doctor and he touched me in sucha caring way it woke something up inside me that was now ready to start being worked on. its been really confusing as it is my sexuality that has come to the surface and is trying to unravel itself. it makes no sence to me its like there is different parts. all i can seem to make sence of is that i feel an overwhelming need to be cared for and for someone to give me permission to care for myself and i also get aroused by men being dominant in films. i have always known that part and i have always know that there was alot of confusion and pain around it.
Ive been thinking about how i can be cared for in a way tha tis safe but is not a relationhip as i am not ready to have one in a trusting sence but also i dont know what i want in a relationship. i was thinking about going for a massage to feel cared for and to help my sore back but i am afriad of being touched and im afriad it would release soemthing emotional buried deep in the muscles. also would it be correct to be going for a massage if i was feeling any sexual feelings/? would that be like abusing what the service is for? do i want to feel sexual feelings? im to afriad to even have a woman massure touch me. ive been watching alot of chiropractic clips online by a doctor ian. there is something about it that makes me feel safe. the man is caring, the touch is not harmful or invasive. the touch is to heal. he cares aout the wellbeing of the people and tries to reasure them if they feel upset. then there is the more sexual feelings as he uses his body, leaning over the person and applying pressure to move the joints. im trying to make sence of this but im not getting very far.
recently i began to allow myself to let my mind fantasise sexually. i was having therapy and we were talking about sexual thoughts and sh gave me the name of a book called *my secret garden* it is a list of sexual fantasies that women have submitted and it really helped me to realize that i am not dirty, my sexual thougths are not dirty and no matter what sexual thoughts i have I AM NOT LIKE HIM. This was a huge thing to know but i did not feel the affects of it until that doctor touched my neck. i felt like he moved energy, i felt tingling all down my neck and i sort of got lost in the sensation for a moment and when i came back i realized my shoulders were relaxing so i helped them along a bit as they are always so tense.
anyway, so i have been allowing myself to let my mind wander in a sexual way. i have been talking to men online to do sexual role plays which seems to help me figure out what turns me on and what doesnt althught i still have a way to go in undertanding this. how do you know what part of fantasies you want in real life if any? are all fantasys just in your head and are meant to remain there? in a fantasy and in films i really love dominant men but does that mean in real life i want that sort of relationship? do i want to be a sub? or do i just want the sensation of being with someone who can arouse me? also if i did want to be a submissive how do you know who to trust and how can you learn how to trust? then there is the part of me which just wants to be cared for. i have been speaking to a man online about what i want. it seems so silly but that part of me just wants to be cared for in a sort of dominant way. i want him to tell me to go for a walk, to apmper myself, to go to a meditation class basically to do with care. but are there sexual undertones to that? im not sure , and if their are is that ok? am i ok with that? does that make me a little? he calls himself a *daddy*. right now i want none sexual care from him but i dont know if eventually those two parts will meet and how messed up is that if they do? wanting to have an online sexual relationship with someone you call daddy when you actually were raped by your own dad!? i dont call him daddy because it makes me feel uncomfortable and i dont even know if thats the sort of thing im asking him to do. is it? i recently have also been in touch with my inner child and im wondering if somehow i have got confused and think that part of her wanting to be cared for is connected to the sexual side. or maybe the healing part is the fact the two parts now dont ever meet? or maybe its that the two parts need to meet and have a safe sexual relationship? what would that look like in real life? would i be a sub? a little? a mix of the two? or would i need a constant online daddy to take care of me none sexually and have a real relationship with a vanilla guy or a dom? or is everything i am thinking just stuff i need to work around and then get to a *normal* relationship.
when i was with my last partner i thught of him like a father and was not really interested in sexual stuff but my first partner was very much a boyfriend who i was more attracted to. maybe i just need a real life relationship with someone i am actually attracted to who can provide the feelings i need of being safe and also cared for and loved?
recently becasue i have been talking to my inner child i wanted to give her something, so i went out and bougth the little mermaid on dvd and also a top with the characters on. but then im like what if its not for her what if it was for me becasue iam now more confortable with being alittle?
wow i am so freaking confused. also should i be talking to this guy online? my therapist said that any bdsm relationship should take place withing a loving relationship but if you dont know what you want how do you go out and find it. also if your not ready or dont want a real life relationship are you meant to never have your needs or being cared for forfilled? and how are you meant to find out what you like and dont like? she said the care online would not be real. and i know they could be lying about who they are and im not wanting to be inlove or anything and i keep myself safe by not giving out informations or photos of myself but all i WANT right now is simulated care. if someone actually cared that much for me i would freak out. i even *pathetically* looked in to talking to a chat bot who could give me commands about what to eat and how to take care of myself. tell me which colour top to wear etc. but im also thinking if the care is not real from the online person then can i fully get what i need from it? does it need to be with a real life relationship and person to make it mean anything? im afraid that i will get confused and lose myself, think that i want to act out fantasys and go and meet ppl of the internet. i dont think i have any intention of doing that and im so overly cautious about using apps to connect with online ppl and online safety that i dont think i would actually put myself in any danger but im still afriad that somehow i will learn to trust this perosn and then they are not who they say they are and that they will hurt me some how. i think the thought of trusting anyone with my care is hard even if it is from a distance and annonymous. i even looked in to professional male dominants, i found one where you can pay to have them email you with commands, ive looked in to professional huggers! ive looked in to everything. i feel overwhelmed and lost
wow im sorry for going on and on thank you so much if you have read this far and can anyone make any sence out of it? Has anyone had experience of d/s lil/big etc and online chating/roleplay? is it healthy for people like us or anyone? aggghh someone help???
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So it wouldn't let me post in the Sexual assault at a very young age forum and I have something to say so in the mean time I'm posting it here.
Why did I play with his penis? I was only 4 but I had never seen a penis before then so I should have known better. Especially after the first time I should have known better. After then I knew I didn't like him ejaculating on my hand. I feel so stupid. Struggling with self-blame tonight. Dealing even more with self-blame because I'm aroused writing this.
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The past month has been eventful, to say the least. As I've been socializing more, I've become friends with a group of other women who live very close by. We've been doing all kinds of things together: watching the meteor shower at the observatory, going shopping, taking our dogs for walks together, that sort of thing. We've been getting to know each other over the past few months, but we started doing a lot more things together very recently. Last Friday, one of my friends (Amy) wanted to go clubbing. I had never been clubbing before in my life! I had no idea what to wear, how to do my makeup, or anything else. Yes, I went to college, but I never did anything like that. I was too busy working, going to school, and recovering between hospital visits.
I went out with Monica, who also had never been clubbing before. We went to Charlotte Rousse, which (thank God for me) has a decent plus size section. She bought a cute top, and I bought an adorable dress. That dress was another first for me: it shows some cleavage. Not a lot, just a little. It certainly wasn't indecent, just more revealing than I usually wear. I did my makeup, dark eyeshadow and eyeliner, with dramatic lipstick. I've seen enough movies to know the lighting would be dark, and I would need dark makeup to have it seen at all. Most of my friends are thin, and much closer to the stereotypical female ideal than I am. I fully expected to be ignored by any of the men.
Amy and I didn't have anything to drink (we both have medical issues, so we can't drink), and no one else went too crazy in our group. When we hit the dance floor, I wasn't sure how to dance, so I just made something up. I figured what the heck? I might as well make a fool of myself, because no one would pay attention to me anyway. I was in for a big surprise! A ton of guys flirted with me, and not because they were drunk either. One of them was very nice. We talked for a while, and I gave him my number at the end of the night. That was on Friday night, and he texted me this morning. I didn't see it at first, so I didn't reply for several hours. I'll start with texting to get to know him a little bit, a phone call if that goes well, and possibly go to meet him somewhere. If I do, I'm taking precautions: I'm not drinking, nor will I leave my iced tea unattended. I drive my own vehicle, and I tell my friends where I am going and when I expect to be back.
My therapist says this is a milestone. He urges caution, of course, both for safety and to prevent me from being overwhelmed. I think this is a good idea, because I am nervous about all of this (I haven't dated in six years), and I don't know this guy. He's a virtual stranger, and I don't want to do anything reckless. Nevertheless, I'll see where this goes.
One thing first: PANDYS IS UP AND RUNNING AGAIN!!!
I did not realize how much I love pandys until it was gone forever and ever. The downtime coincided with a huge jump in therapy and I had nowhere to talk about it! However, I know that usually when there is a problem of the sort I heard of with these boards, an IT company will usually erase it and start from scratch and that didn't happen here. So a humongous THANK YOU to those who made it possible to keep it around! If I could meet y'all in person there would be a whole lot of hugging and crying and I'm not even a touchy person. I avoid hugs like the plague.
So now on to the exciting (to me anyway) progress I've finally made in T, and at home in general.
I finally convinced T to let me write out what I remember instead of focusing on saying it right away. We'll get there but I wanted to start gentle. She finally agreed when I explained properly what I was thinking. So I did. And it was awful, disgusting and icky to write. But she read it and was calm and comforting about it and I felt better. Then I burned it so it's not readable ever again.
She had the exact thought I did: that what I remember doesn't match me as I am now. The things that scare me, the way I react to different situations just doesn't fit. She (as am I) is sure that there's something my 7 year old self is holding back. She equates it to remembering simply touching a stove with fingertips but having an entire arm scarred and scorched. It doesn't add up. So we're now working on getting ahold of that 7 year old me and getting her to tell me. Which I was so resistant and skeptical about for the longest time. But I decided to trust her and go with it for one minute. It's the oddest feeling. She'll direct questions to the imaginary 7 year old version of myself and I know immediately how she would answer. It's like I can actually feel a little girl in there, like I am a little girl. I'm terrified this will fracture me completely into DID but she said I already am fractured just because I react like I'm still 7 in grocery stores, around strange men, etc. That if I can talk down the little me, it will help big me too. Which makes a little sense, and I'm honestly just going with it out of trust for now. She chose this method over EMDR because it's a little gentler and I can be in more control without losing time or not knowing what's happening.
I also finally told my husband details. He knew generalities but nothing specific. He was so kind about it. He didn't flinch, or avoid touching me acting disgusted like I thought. He just hugged me tighter and said nothing. One step closer to being able to speak about it without squirming or fear.
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Hmm...well it's almost the end of the summer and I have been relagated to my apartment since February..trying to hold it together...everyday...On top of feeling like a complete loser and hating myself, I am very lonely..my ex-girlfriend from Florida is going to visit me in a couple of weeks and I'm looking forward to seeing her in person...I've been so desparate for human contact or companionship that I accepted a date with a woman that I wasn't attracted to or into at all..it was a lame date...and I'm glad that I decided not to lie to her to keep her in my life...I couldn't do it...I have been looking for transgender women on the side though too, which I feel bad about..I've heard from two potential people, but nothing has transpired into a meeting..I'm glad too!! I think that that is God's way of saying "NO!" I have decided that I'm not going to pursue that avenue, no matter how desparate or lonely I am right now in life...I know things will eventually change, but I'm tired of just existing in life, I wanna live. I deserve to be happy and not depressed or feeling like shit because of my past or illness..I applied to this agency that is going to help me find a job. They help people with mental illness get work or job training...I've been looking for work since June and haven't found a match at all. So, it seems like I will go a few days without showering or keeping up with my apartment and then, a day like today happens and I feel like I've had enough and I start to move forward again. It's a depressing cycle..that I'm sick and tired of doing over and over again...It seems like other people I know have it so much more easier than me.
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I am trying to process some stuff that comes from something someone said to me recently (thank you) on here about the abuse from my brother.
It was about revenge. Abuse being something to do with my brother wanting to revenge himself on me for something.
Almost instantly a few things fell into place.
First, why he might want to revenge himself on me: at a time of major upheaval in his life, I was not having to go through any of what he had to, but was instead effectively protected from it by my parents. So (and this is pure speculation) because he was unable to express his frustration and unhappiness any other way he did it by revenging himself on the vulnerable person he was jealous of, who had what he considered his.
This makes it very much a deliberate act - that shred of intent, the bit that's always bothered me about what it was that tipped him over the edge, that I've read about, that there has to be something that overcomes your natural inhibition to do something like what he did.
(The irony is that if my parents knew more about this they would be even more on his side - would be able to express how awful it was for him at that time - it would make them even swifter to excuse him. This was what my mum was saying about him being in a difficult position. 'I can shed some more light on this,' was what she said after I disclosed abuse, and she told me about his medical issue (which I knew about). I remember feeling a faint, disappointed 'oh' when she said that. Somehow I wanted it to be about me, perhaps something she had noticed (no, I hid it too well, except asking for a key for my room (waste of time as she shouted at me when I locked the door overnight) and I insisted on having a separate room from my brother when we went on holiday a few years later) but no, it was all about what things excused his behaviour. No, they might have built up a picture but didn't excuse it, because they explained why he felt disaffected but then abuse was his choice of how to respond.)
Second, that meant that the hypervigilance and freezing was very much a proportionate response to what he did.
Third, that hypervigilance and freezing are not necessary around someone who is not abusive.
After first confronting this 'revenge' issue, for the first time for a long time I found the hypervigilance around DH spontaneously lift - we had a drink in the garden and for about twenty minutes it felt 'easy', like there was just some kind of barrier not there any more. Then the anxiety built up again, lifted the barrier screens back into place. If I can do it once, though, I can do it again I hope.
I talked things through with T before I came away on holiday. I explained the circumstances in the years leading up to abuse and she said it was very significant and that I hadn't mentioned it before. I know I had to oldT but probably felt I knew enough about it all to need to explain it as clearly to newT. I suppose I'd seen why brother might be unsettled but not appreciated that extra ingredient, of why he might react in the way I did.
So. His life was entirely out of his control because of family circumstances (boarding school,house move, moving school) and approaching adolescence. There was even an issue with his body that was out of control, requiring surgery. It was established that strong emotions were unacceptable to my parents, so he had no way of expressing them, and there was no way to blame them for his feelings (although they were the ones who were responsible for dealing with the consequences of their choices). There was one person, however, whom he could feel angry towards - his little sister, who had not had to deal with any of this and who was sailing through her life with ease.
So, he found revenge on her and on his parents and found a way at last to control something in his life, in a way that no one would ever find out about.
Abuse is about control.
He abused his little sister and there he had control back in his life.
This is bringing up all sorts of feelings inside.
There's something more. When I first confronted my brother and we talked, he said he was sorry to me and he also said something I didn't understand about how if we told our parents he wanted to be the one to do it, and he said he felt he had let them down because they trusted him to look after me.
It's that bit I find a bit sickening. I think because it gives a window into this revenge issue, it's like it shines a spotlight onto it. Because, if he felt that need to say sorry to them, it makes it about him and them and not at all about me. He abused me to get back at them and to give himself some control. By looking for their forgiveness (freely given) and understanding it makes it clear that was where the dynamic was most important for him. I was an unfortunate casualty of something more important.
I think that's how I've been treated. As if the important part is my brother and that my responsibility is not to make such a fuss but just do as I'm told and get better. The real tragedy is how my brother felt and if he's not making a fuss about it then I shouldn't.
I first confronted all of this about ten days ago and I've thought a bit about what this meant to me but it's only writing it out like this that it's done something to me. I feel sort of sick to my core.
It's like it's all joined up.
I mean, the story, but also my head and body.
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This past two weeks have been tough.
I started working on something with my T two sessions ago and still have not finished 'processing' them (in EMDR terms). So I've been very sensitive and vulnerable.
I get angry when I see other people's lives: everyone seems happy, loved, gorgeous and succesful. That at the same time makes me feel a loser. And I get upset at myself because I know that everybody is human and everybody has some sort of difficulties. And I know that my life is pretty nice too (nice family and everyone doing OK). And then I feel guilty for not appreciating all my blessings.
But I am so hurt, and so sad inside.
This unresolved thing involves my mom. She has been always there for me, she has been loving and dedicated. She has been funny, supporting...... I am sure she would give me her heart if I needed one.
But I just cannot let go of the tought that she was not there when I was abused as a child. And that she did not do 'more' when I told her about the abuse (besides stopping it). I don't blame her. Under her circumstances I don't know if I had done better. But it just hurts too much, and makes me feel unloved, not worthy of any attention or happiness.
And I really want to be happy because I have a beautiful family of my own to be happy with and for.
I just hope these waters will settle and that I can overcome this hurdle.
My T says I will overcome all this. And be a new, better person. But I just want to be my happy old self. Confident, strong, not caring what others tought....
I feel like I'm late with.. everything. I feel like my university years were wasted. Like I had to high hopes and dreams and should have chosen something else. That I was being unrealistic. I feel like I should have come further in life. But I also know that the time I've spent, I've learned a lot. But I've not learned mainstream stuff, I guess. I've learned about psychological problems, about designing, about people. My teachers liked me when I went to the university. I got a lot of praise by a lot of different people. My problem is that I have doubt. I doubt myself. That's why it's not working out. Because I have doubt.
Maybe it'll work out until I stop doubting. I guess I'll just try to progress until I've learned how to not doubt myself.
I just feel.. my friends are so calm, and here I am standing in a storm. But I guess all people have storms in their lives. Maybe my storm is now. I don't want to be late. I'm usually in the front. I'm the fast learner, the one who gets things done, the good example for people to follow. Now I'm the back of the row. The one who needs extra attention and help all the time. The one who has to learn from everybody else. It's making me feel stupid.
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I have been on here on and off for a long time and I hoping to get back to writing my thoughts regularly because it was so helpful at the time.
I feel like I am still trying to make changes and still processing things and my life moves forward and years go by and I am still trying to make the same changes and process the same things and maybe it is because my illusion that one day I will be free from all of this and the past will be the past and gone and the years of therapy and thinking and dealing with my abusive family who I have not lived with with over 20 years was worth it because in the end I will somehow be expunged from my past or my past will be expunged from me.
And maybe the last few years of me saying fuck it to the world and not really giving a shit about anything because what was the fucking point, was me just fighting the fact that my parents and my family are psychopathic assholes who abused me and then all disowned me when I spoke out and there will never be retribution or justice or kharma and no amount of time or therapy or drinking or drugs or messed up relationships will change that.
And so I am trying to accept things and despite knowing the "tools" that facilitate acceptance, its hard! and now that I think about it, I think my first post on here over 5 years ago probably sounded a whole lot like this one...
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Story in the news about first maternity ward for r* survivors set up in the UK (what a difference that might have made for me)
Another story about a huge CSA case in Scotland
Just now, a scene in Ferris Bueller (which I thought I should probably watch) where girl lies she is being picked up by her dad, gets to Ferris who asks, 'do you have a kiss for your dad?', she smiles and French kisses him, and the watching teacher (here the trigger) says, 'so THAT'S how it is in that family' and cranes his neck for a better view (all kinds of wrong.
My head is fuzzy, I'm a bit dissociated, just not really here, and I'm knackered, I think from all the adrenaline. Being at work today was hard; I noticed on Monday after my week off that I was hypervigilant, checking every person who looked a bit like my old T and it reaffirmed my decision to quit, but after the appearance comment yesterday, I'm on edge on the lookout for the people in the office next to me.
Here's the thing: if someone says to you in a bar, 'have you worked as a model?', it's a cheesy line you laugh off. In the street, it's a little weird. In the office, 99.9% of people would know that that is inappropriate so if you don't or if you choose to ignore it, and if you persist once the person you're addressing tells you they find it inappropriate, then it's most definitely not a compliment, it's behaviour that raises the question of what other boundaries you might not perceive or might not respect.
Yep, massively on edge. I've not felt so hypervigilant before except very briefly during PE. Like every nerve is ringing. Ugh. New sympathy or rather empathy for those whose PTSD takes them in this direction. Want to ring my T and cry . But feel silly as there is no danger, and my husband is here.
So very, very tired. Think I prefer depression exhaustion...
i have failed. i dont know. i think i tried to take care of myself, try to stop worrying over everything and try to trust that things will work out. it resulted in two irreparable damages.
so, now i have three (with an older one) things to prove that im not capable of dealing with life. if i try and feel compassion with myself i can see im a little girl who breaks down every time shes forced to take adult responsibility. everyone who looks at me see how capable i am in their standards. analysing, assessing, predicting outcomes and finding solutions. all of that should make me able to make desicions and take responsibility.
i am convinced that my credibility relies solely on getting it right. if i dont ive proved that you cant trust anything i do or say and anyone can discredit or disregard me with no effort by pointing out how wrong i get it. i can be blamed for everything and ill have no way of protecting myself, no way to defend myself. im powerless, so very literally powerless.
and hyper vigilance kicks in when i type this.
i betrayed myself by silencing the song of my heart. my biggest failure, irreparable.
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I was 18 years old, 115 lbs. and fresh out of boot camp and on my way to Japan to be assigned to my first ship. I was nervous, scared and most of all excited. When I arrived on the ship in mid Aug of 1992 the whole world was a new place for me and I could not wait to hit the ground running and exceed my dreams. As I walked around the ship checking in, I was greeted by many people and quickly made friends ome who were from my home state.
That first month was great! I went places and did so many things call home and telling my family all about it. Then I was invited to a house party by the HM2 on the ship. I had checked in with him when I first arrived on the ship and thought that he was a standup guy. He took my medical record and gave it a quick once over. He then told me that he would need to do a quick physical exam of me having me strip down to my underwear. He checked the normal things like breathing, reflexes, eye sight, ears, mouth, etc. As I stood in my underwear he said he needed to check me for a hernia so I proceeded to lower my underwear turn my head and cough. He then said me needed to check my prostate and assured me that this was normal for new check-ins on the ship. So I pulled down my underwear, turned around and bent over. After that was done I proceeded to get dressed and went on my way never realizing that he was the one who would sodomize me and take away my dignity, pride, ability to love, have male friends, my self-worth and my man hood.
As the weeks went on I would go out and have drinks with friends and co-workers. We would go do tours and I would call home telling my family all about it. Then on October 9th I was out drinking by myself and ran into the HM2 from my ship at a bar called Soul Harlem. This bar was mainly frequented by the black sailors in Yokosuka and since I was out by myself I decided to see if any of my black friends where around and maybe have a few drinks with them before going back to the ship for the night. As I entered I saw HM2 inside with a few others guys. He saw me as well and gestured for me to join them. I walked over and introduced myself and proceeded to have a few drinks and hang out. As the night wore on HM2 invited me back to his house for a house party. Since being a junior sailor I was not allowed to live of the ship so this was a welcomed gesture and a break from the nosy berthing. At his house we all continued to drink and I was at the point that I could no longer drink anymore and was getting ready to stumble back to the ship. HM2 offered me to stay at his place to sleep off the effects of alcohol since I wasn’t really able to stand. He showed me to a “guess room” which had an air mattress which I laid down on and passed out. Sometime later, I awoke to HM2 on top of me penetrating me from behind. I was still drunk, but quickly sobering up when pure fear and uncertainty took control of my body. I froze and did nothing letting him have his way with me in an act that is not normal or right. It seemed as if it went on forever until he finally finished and went to take a shower. During that time I got up and found that he had put a pair of girl’s panties on me with a bra which I took off and grabbed my clothes getting dressed as I stumbled to the door. I left his house as fast as I could. As I ran towards the base I stopped off at a public restroom by the train station and locked myself in a stall. At first I curled up into a ball and begin crying, thinking to myself, how did this happen to me? Did I instigate this? Why did I have an erection and cum while he was doing this to me. The pain from my ass and throat was now evident and I quickly stood up and lowered my pants grabbing as much toilet paper that I could a trying to clean myself. All I remember is the blood with each wipe. After I regained my composure I want back to the ship took a shower and went to my rack (bed) where I stayed to the remainder of the weekend only getting out using the bath room. I was scared and all alone in a foreign country and I did not know what to do. I still do not know if the others guys raped me as well or not.
As the weeks went by and before we deployed I avoided medical like the plague. I became isolated and withdrawn from the people whom I had been close to before. Anytime someone made a joke about fags I would think automatically they were talking about me and I would withdraw even more. I would go out drinking by myself in the park away from others getting so drunk that I would black out and wake up on the ship not knowing how I got back. It didn’t matter if it was a Monday or a Friday, I was drunk. I stopped calling my family and when I did I was drunk all of the time. This was how I coped with what happened to me and then he cornered me. He made the remark that I liked it because when he when back to the room he saw that I had cummed on the sheets and because I did not tell anyone about it. I tried to push my way through him, but at only 115 lbs. I was unable to. He told me that if I did not want people to know what I did that I need to come to his house that night which I agreed to just to keep him quiet and let me go. I meet him on the pier and we drove to his place where a few of his friends we waiting. As he parked the car I got out and tried to go back to the base, but was stopped by him and his friends. They pushed me into the house and told me to stop resisting or they would tell people that I was a fag and liked being a bitch. They instructed me to remove my clothes which I did reluctantly as they too removed theirs. I remember stand they shaking and scared looking at these four naked black men touching themselves as they looked at me. HM2 walked over to me and put his hand on my face telling me that it is going to be fun and I will like it. One of the other guys who was a massive sized guy walked up behind me and slapped my ass as hard as he could saying something. I remember how badly it hurt and that I did not want to cry, especially in front of them. He then push me down to my knees as HM2 walked towards me touching himself as the others stood by laughing as they touch themselves. I remember him rubbing his penis on my lips telling me to open my mouth and my refusal to do so ended with the guy who slapped me grabbing my head and telling me to open up. I opened my mouth and HM2 put his penis in my mouth telling me not to bite it or they would fuck me up. The guy who was holding my head was moving it back and forth on the penis. The others started drinking and put on a porno as I was sucking on HM2. They all eventually had me suck their penises while they watched straight porn. The rest of the events that evening was them acting out on me what they were seeing on the television, spanking me while fucking me with the final act of me sucking them, cumming in my mouth and me swallowing. I left and went back to the ship, showered and went to my rack where I cried as quietly as I could until I feel asleep. (I did this with those same guys at least 10 times.)
We soon deployed ( I got a tattoo on my back of a cross with a guy kneeling and his hands are to God in hope that if they saw this they would not be able to what they were doing to me, but that did not work and it was away for me to see how God had forsaken me. I hated God so much) and during that time I would go to his office, which was medical, when called after working hours when Chief was not in and service him either orally or anally and sometimes both. He liked to degrade me while he did this to me calling me his slut, white bitch, underway hoe or whatever it was. During this time I meet my ex-wife and saw this as an opportunity to show I was a man and not a fag. I guess it was because of all that I was going through and had endured that I wanted to get married and maybe that would stop it all. So during that deployment I would write to her and act as if I was happy and normal, but I wasn’t and that sucked. We came back to Yokosuka (1993) and he had me go with him to his house again. On the way there, he picked up on of his friends from before having me get in the back seat with him and perform oral sex on him while he drove around base. I was not allowed to use my hands for anything as HM2 taught me and I had to swallow so there would be no mess to clean up. When I had finished we dropped him off and went to HM2s house where he then had sex with me as normal, cumming inside of me. Sometime later HM2 did the same thing to a few of the new guys on the ship and thank God! one of them reported him. I remember that day so clearly and they ask if anyone else had been molested by him. I wanted to come forward, but my pride and dignity which I had none would not allow me to. I have been servicing him and his friends for 6 months and not reported it. How would that look? In my mind I was a fag an active participant who liked being sodomized, sucking penis and swallowing cum. I kept silent and buried the pain, guilt, shame and regret deep inside the back of my brain.
I married November of that year with the hopes and aspirations of having a great family that would be always happy despite a few ups and downs. I did my best to suppress the feelings that were going through me which I did not understand. I loved my wife at the time and we were expecting our first child, a son and I was so happy and excited. I deployed again and my wife went home to give birth and the day he was born was the greatest day over and then six days later and two years it was the 9th all over again in my mind. The year before on this date I acted out by searching for a black male to perform oral sex on to be used. I did eventually find a guy and I proceed to suck him. At first he wasn’t too sure about it as a married man, but soon gave in as soon as I said I swallow, I guess all black guys like to have their cum swallowed I thought. He was quick to unzip his pants and expose his penis to me. I took into my mouth and slowing began to suck him feeling him grow in my mouth made me feel sexy and in power. I was now in control and not the other way around. I sucked and sucked deep throating him which I could tell he liked by him moans and precum that was now filling my mouth. I few thrust to the back of my throat he came and I swallowed it all with ease. I looked up at him and he said, I will never for this, “you suck a mean cock bitch!” With that we parted ways and I went out drinking. But this 9th of October was different. I was out to sea and had no one to have control over, I had no power. I did everything I could to cope with what had happened before. The following year we pulled into where my wife and new born son where at. I took leave and enjoyed to warmth and comfort of being with my family where I was safe. We soon all came back to Japan; got a place and settled into our family and I began to reconnect with my family back in the states. Things were going well until I started to relapse and doubt who and what I was. The ship would go out to sea from time to time and we would pull into different ports. While in these ports I would met women and have sex with them as a way to say I am normal and I am a guy. It did not matter who they were, how they looked as long as I could tell myself that I was normal, that is all that mattered. When in Japan I would find myself out at night once in a while looking to hook up with a black male to regain my control to change the outcome of what had happened to me.
Soon it was time for me to transfer and I wanted to get away from Japan. I took orders to Iceland which is about as far as anyone can get from Japan. I also tried out for special programs in the navy and failed so I did security as indicted in my orders and during this time I found out that my wife at the time was pregnant with our second child. I finished school and spent some time back home in Colorado with my While in Iceland she gave birth to our daughter who to me was the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen in my life. She was perfect! Life was hard because my wife was going through the baby blues and I did not know what to do, but I did all I could. We fought and fought hard hurting each other and in turn that hurt the kids. I soon found myself thinking about having sex with black men again when with just my luck a family where the husband was black moved in across from us. I soon friended him and began hanging out from time to time which soon lead to me fantasizing about me sucking his penis and maybe having him fuck my ass. I soon was withdrawing from my family despite my love for them. I worked shift work so I would come home to find my wife and son asleep in bed and my daughter in her crib soaking wet. I would take her out, clean her up and we would lay on the floor falling asleep. Soon the internet came out and that really opened a new world to me. Porn was now at my finger tips and so was the ability to meet random black guys and women at the click of a mouse. Soon I found myself on the computer late at night looking at black on white gay porn which showed scenes of what I was doing with black men before. I would masturbate watching it while taking the biggest sausages I could find, slipping a condom on them and suck on it as if it was a real penis. I would also take it and shove it deep into my ass using it to make myself cum like those guys did to me. This went on for some time until I was able to find a guy on base that was into other guys.
I would go to the barracks while at work and go to his room where he would be waiting naked. I would go in and suck him off and swallow which went on until the day I ended it. We would do other things as well which he enjoyed and I felt empowered by because I was in control and not him. I remember bending over the desk which was in his room while he was fucking me and looking at the picture of his wife and thinking to myself that I have the power of this pervert and not you! When I did not come by he would call and plead with me to service him which caused me to be very aroused and more in power. I wanted to see how far he would go so I asked him to kiss me which he eagerly did. I had kissed guys before when this all first happened, but something was different and I did not know what. I felt sick to my stomach after that and did not do that again. I guess he was getting feelings for me and asked if I could “be with him” when I said no and that this needs to end he asked if I can at least blow him one last time which I did and allowed him to take a picture of it so he can remember.
We transferred back to Japan and I was back on a ship again. It was taught because I had to quickly get a place for my wife and kids and get ready to set out to sea on deployment. During that deployment I fucked every girl I could to make myself feel normal. My wife and kids made do and soon I returned home in time to move them into base housing. The base had an internet café which I would visit regularly and such the net for more black men to seduce and empower me. Soon I had a steady flow of guys whom I could pick and choose. This is when I found out that a lot of black “straight” men were secretly on the “DL” (down low) and liked having guys service them. Most if not all were married men and they all complained that their wives would no longer go down on them and never swallowed. I would meet them at random places on base or they would pick me up and I would suck them while they drove until they cummed. Some I would go to the office that they worked at and they you bend me over and fuck me as hard as they could. Some would cum in my ass while others cummed in my mouth. I noticed that while they felt empowered it was me who had the real power because I could have just stopped and walked away. That within its self was empowering to me and I had control of the outcome and not them.
As time went on while stationed on the ship I became more and more bold, adventurous and riskier. I took chances going down this rabbit hole that I was in. I posted adds on all kinds of gay hook up sites and even went as far as posting pictures of myself in lude and compromising positions. Maybe a picture with a black cock in my mouth while jacking one in my hand or one of me being a “piggy” in a pig roast by having a cock in my ass and one in my mouth. I did not care who saw or who knew about what I was doing just only cared that I was in control and had power. At one point in time I was sucking 5 to 7 cocks a day allowing them to be abusive to me and degrade me. Some took pictures while other made videos. One guy liked to go to a site where he found me and use a web cam so other people could watch me being a good bitch slut choking on his huge uncut cock or it spreading open my ass going balls deep as I moaned because it was so big. We only did that when his wife was gone visiting family with his kids and his house was empty. Most, 97% of the guys that I hooked up with where married and I found out that they chose me over women because no drama and they knew I could not get knocked up. So it was safe for them and they had someone that they could act out rough hard sex on and believe me they all liked it rough to the point that to them it was rape.
I also dabbled in crossdressing during this time which I was not good at in my eyes, but they guys who did like it really liked it and I could tell by how hard they got. I was always curious why HM2 had me in a bra and panties when he took my manhood. Was he telling me something that I was no longer a “man” but that I was a “bitch”? I do not know even to this day and I really wish I could know so that I can put that to rest. This will come back to haunt me later on in life. I carried the clothes I had with me and when we pulled into a port some place I would get a room and act out thigs on myself while dressed in drag. It was my way of trying to understanding what had happened. I would still have sex with random women as well but I do not always perform as I should have. I would think back to those guys at HM2s house up past Shiori station and ask why they like to do that to another guy, but I could not answer that million dollar question.
So during the four your period I was on the ship I had sex with (guessing) 30 guys and all but 3 were married. They had Japanese wives but one who had a black American wife. They all had kids some were grown and others were still in school. They all liked to get sucked off and when fucking they liked to fuck hard, deep and fast while slapping me around and calling me bitch, slut, cum whore and many more. They ranged from 18 to 55 and came from all walks of life since I know one was a school teacher. They all most all liked to use their digital cameras and take pictures or videos so that they could watch later if they could not meet me. Some even engaged in 3 P’s with me as long as the room was dark enough that the other person could not see them. Some wanted to suck me off, but I would not allow that because no one is going to take my power from me.
My marriage suffered so much during this time that I became a shell of myself. Thoughts of ending my life would often fill my head and to the point that I lost all respect for me. If I could not go and get cock I would become angry and lash out about the smallest thing. Drinking came back into my life and aided to the debacle that I suffered through each day. I had co-workers and acquaintances, but no true life friends whom I could confide in and get help. My kids were growing up and I only cared about being in power, figuring out why things happened, why I was doing this to myself and was I gay or not.
When I left the ship I stopped and when to shore duty, I was hoping would make life better. Soon I was getting feelings and desires to go back to what I had known. Why was I doing this! I figured I would mess around with girls so that I could make myself straight again and then my life would be better and I could become intimate with my wife again. I knew she had her ideas about me, but I would never confess to her because I loved her and it was my way of protecting her even though she knew. While I was on shore duty I met my current wife and despite what she thinks I do love her. My ex-wife was breaking down because I would be gone for days on end. My kids thought that I was TAD (Temporary Assigned Duty) some place because I would only call home. I tried to fix things myself and not go get help. The stigma of being a man and that that should only happen to fags and weak ass men hunted me. I grew further apart from my family in the states during this whole time from the beginning until recently because I did not and kind of still do not know how to face them. My ex-wife would walk around base with a picture of me asking random people if they had seen me and also wanted to kill herself by jumping out of the tower we lived at (I am glad that she did not do that.) My current wife became pregnant with our son and she also had a child from a previous marriage who I love and adore to this day. My current wife made it so that I would divorce my ex and marry her to give our son what he deserves. She and I fought so much during this time and I hurt her so much by physical and emotional abuse. Through all of her effort I finally did divorce my ex almost one year after our oldest son was born and months before our second son was born. I had sent my ex and kids back to her country of origin and while this tore me apart and I cried, I also swore that I would change my life around for good which was easier said than done. It was hard on my wife to change the ways that I had become so accustomed to and this broke her down and still is. Before we got married and the birth of our second son her ex-husbands ship pulled into Yokosuka and she took (at that time) their daughter up to see him. This drove me crazy and I lashed out because of my insecurities in life. I knew that I was messed up in my mind and that I was no good for her or the kids, but I divorced for her and the kids so that we can have life. I knew then and know more so now because of what she has told me that she wishes and wanted to be back with him.
I had a few months left on shore duty and it was time to negotiate for orders. Her and I went and talked to the detailer (person who issues orders to next command) and we got what she wanted which was San Diego. I was happy about the move and working really hard to not revert back to acting out with men. In San Diego I was determined to be a “man” and not a “fag.” It was hard, harder than I thought. We fought and she wanted me to quit using chewing tobacco, get my teeth fixed, stop lying and take care of the family. All of these were impossible to do for me when I had other questions that I could not answer and still had the need to act out the abuses that I had endured. One night we go into a big fight and she took the whole blame for everything which lead to her being arrested and us later going to court to get her record expunged. Our sex life was nonexistent because I was unable to perform in bed. To get an erection was like trying to get a pig to fly. I continued to lie and deceive her and my family. She wanted to get back to her ex-husband as mentioned before who was stationed in Washington State and whose ship would pull into San Diego. He would see their daughter and talk to her and my wife on the phone. I figured that the only way I could keep her and help make myself better was to adopt our daughter whom I did and I don’t regret that at all but, that did not help anything out because deep down I wanted to reenact my pain to feel better about myself to have control.
As time passed I did not get better. I would see a black guy and ask myself if he was a rapist who would if given the chance force himself upon me. I would masturbate thinking of the incident playing it over and over in my head and because of this I could not be sexual with my wife and that really bothered me. I knew I needed help, but I did not get the help that I should have. I instead, skirted around the whole ordeal and sought to blame my wife. The ship I was on pulled into the place where my ex and kids lived and I was able to see them for the first time in years and also renew their passports. I talked to them and her and begged for forgiveness and I confided in her what had happened to me. I do not know if she cared or not. I came back to San Diego and my wife asked me to go to school since she had enrolled. I first resisted the offer, but she pushed me to do so. I went into it running and despite having a hard time managed to complete two yrs. However, during this time I resented her because she had friends, really close friends and was close to her family. I wanted to really reconnect with my family, but was not able to do so because I was still trapped in being 18 and losing myself identity. Again, I had co-workers and people I knew, but no true real friends whom I could rely on and talk to. I still saw people as predators and not anyone I could trust. When it came to black me this really held true and I would also think about them abusing me, thinking about how big their penises where and how they tasted. I kept withdrawn and secluded. Because of this I devised a plan to get information on my wife so that I could have something to hold over her when she had so much on me. I created an email add and I pretended to be someone whom I thought that she would like and it worked. She emailed back and forth with this fake person and I even got a burn phone to call her to make it seem legitimate and that all worked until I noticed that she was drifting apart from me with me. So I devised a plan that I would confront her on it and I was emailing myself and threating myself to stop, but I did not.
I transferred back to Japan leaving her and our daughter and oldest son while I brought our youngest. I acted like I hacked her Facebook and put things on it that I should have never done and she was scared. I did not stop until she got her and only because she was going to report it. Still I was unable to make love to her and as I walked around Japan I would see places where I did the things mentioned above and I went even further into the rabbit hole. Every October 9th is bad. We moved into our house here on base in Japan and things were going good on the outside. I went back to my old ways and was emailing girls, but instead of meeting for sex to prove I was a man and not a fag I just emailed and asked for nude pictures as well as send out mine to them. I was eventually caught by her and I lied and lied and lied. I closed the email account and told myself I will be better I am not going to let things rule my life. I should have gotten help. I still did not have any friends so I decided to join a fraternity and it happened that it was one with mostly black members. I would go but not really be a part of anything. My mind set was to surround myself with the type of people who changed my life and if I can make myself see that they are not bad people, things would get better. However, they did not and I went further and further down the hole. When the Tsunami hit Japan my wife and kids evacuated to the states and it was during this time that I reimbursed myself into acting out my abuses. I would sit around the house with the lights off and I would watch black on white porn. At first it was just two guys having sex where the white guy was totally submissive to the black guy and then it when to group sex with one white guy and 30 black guys fucking him in his mouth and ass and then each of them cumming into the white guys mouth while he swallowed each load. This aroused me so much that my erection hurt and I would masturbate holding it in until the last guy came in his mouth. After I felt sick to my stomach and I felt guilt and remorse. Was I finally changing? I then went on line and reopened an old email account that I used when I was acting out and shortly after I received a message from one of the web pages I had an add on. It was a local guy who was looking for a cum dumpster to use and abuse. We emailed back and forth and sent pictures, but I could not go through with it. My wife and kids came back to Japan and things did not get any better. While she was working I hacked her phone so I could tack her and all this was because I was insecure still. I was still trying to understand why HM2 had me in panties and a bra while her sodomized me so I went out and bought women’s clothes. During this time we were at rock bottom to the point that she kicked me out of the house and I was living in our Tahoe. I slept over by the base gym since it had a shower and toilets that I could use. I ended up shaving my body to simulate my hairless body when I was 18. My thoughts were to dress up again and get abused because one thing I know is a lot of black married guys are on the DL out here. However, I could not do it and I sat in the gym shower room and cried. I kept shaving my body because I wanted to do it and have that control back in my life. She had me come back to the house and I as I was getting my stuff she came out and wanted to go through the truck at which time she found the bag that had my items for crossdressing. She found the shoes, pants, top, panties and her old bras which I kept. I am not sure in my mind what happened after that because I have blocked that out. I do know that I lied to her more which gave her more pain by telling her I was in to trannies, but in truth I was trying to learn from them so that I could better seduce the black guys in Yokosuka. Later on I bought a dildo which I used on myself in a destructive way while she was at work and the kids where either outside of watching television. She eventually found it and demanded to know where it came from. I could not tell her it was mine because I was a sodomized and I felt that by acting out my abuses help me, so I lied again and said I do not know. She had me go to security and report it which I did and she had me take our daughter which I do not know why. I did as she asked, but security did nothing about it. I do however regret that I had involved my daughter whom I love and adore so much. I was still unable to sexually satisfy my wife and with her working so far away I and being able to have friends which I could not I continued going down and bring my family with me. While my wife was working I was back at with the girls and was asking to get pictures from them and it was not about looks or anything it was about power and control. She caught me on the phone talking to someone trying to get pictures and it did not help that I was drunk and that we were with her boss and his wife. I eventually left her and took a train back with the intention of going home, but I took the train to by the base and pulled out more money and went drinking. I do not know what happened that night other than I was buying drinks and when I was low on money went to Soul Harlem where everything started. I do not know if I hook up with any black guy or guys that night and sucked them off and I pray that that did not happen, but it still lingers in my mind. When I woke up I was in my office under my desk passed out. When asked what happened that night I tell her what I remember and that is all and that I regret what I did to her in front of her boss and his wife.
She was working far from us here in Yokosuka and I was finishing up my four year degree and getting ready for retirement, but things where still messed up. I did not take care of things that I should have and that has messed up things to this day and has an effect on my daughter’s future. I was trying to get a USCS job before I retired, but that did not happen. When I retired I did not have a ceremony because I had no friends to help in planning it. While I loved the navy and all that it provided for me I blamed it for all the wrong in my life. I did get a job as a contractor on base, but that did not put my kids in on base school so they were forced to attend off base Japanese school which was hard especially for my oldest son whom I love so much. My daughter and youngest son who I also love so much were able to adjust. This made life stressful for everyone in the family and made me want to reenact as a coping mechanism and an escape. HM2 paid for me to get my tongue pierced because he side that it would make guys cum faster as I suck their cocks. So as a way to cope I bought a tongue piercing which would not go through with the idea that I could look at it in my mouth and remember what I had been doing in order to get off. My wife’s and I’s sex life was still messed up. We decided that having another child would help us out so we tried (she wanted to have another child while in San Diego) and tried, but I was unable to get and erection or I was masturbating too much lowering my sperm count. She then transferred to Yokosuka and got a job with the same command I was a contractor with. Again I was jealous because she quickly made friends. I lashed out again and created another email address and was also going on line watching gay black on white porn and using a web page to talk to girls. I emailed to her acting as if I was someone else as I had done before, but this time she did not take the bait and went to report it. The report went from our command to security to NCIS. I confess to her right away and she told her boss who contacted NCIS and requested a stop. I want and talked to her boss at which time I cried and felt really remorseful for what I did. At that time I swore that I would never do anything to mess anything up in my life and that I would get help again. (I had seen a chaplain, two physiatrist and never told about what happened in 1992) I however did not go. She was also instrumental in the process for helping me get a job which I have now.
After that incident with the emails I have been doing well and I have been focusing all of my efforts to my job and family. I still do not have any friends and still do find myself thinking about having sex with black males as I have done in the past. We have a lot of ups and downs in which most, if not all are downs. This sucks and has added additional stress on her. I always think about having sex with black males and often I fantasize about a group of men and have them do to me what was done before, but this time I am in control and not them, it will be my rules. I was doing really well about not doing anything bad and not reenacting out even though I did think of it. I was still unable to have an erection unless I thought about black men and then I could have sex with her, but soon after starting I would lose my erection. One day I told her about what had happened to me, but was unable to confess the full extent of all that I had been doing since that day. How could I tell her that I would bend of and let a black man fuck me in my ass like a bitch and allow him to fill me full of his cum? Or that I would meet random guys and suck their cocks all over the base and out on town swallowing each time when they came. How could I tell her? So I decided that I would not and that I would just try to live a “normal” life. A little over a year ago I ran into one of the guys I use to hook up with that is married. He recognized me right away and initiated a conversation. We exchanged small talk and when it was obvious that I did not know who he was he asked if I was still down for some action and explained that I would meet up with him to suck him off. This was a shock to me especially since it was in a public area. I was still unsure of who he was and asked for him to explain what I did. He told me where we would go and I knew right away who he was. In my mind I could see everything that was going on, him picking me up in his van with his cock already out of his pants and hard, him driving with my head in his lap sucking his cock while his hand was on top of my head pushing his cock deeper into my mouth until choked. For some reason he liked making me choke on him to the point I would almost throw up. I could taste him in my mouth all over again, the saltiness of his skin and his pre-cum. I could also smell him, the cross of coco butter and sweat. I got embarrassed, excited and most of all mad at him for approaching me and for asking if I was down. I do and do not understand why he would do that. He said that he misses fucking my mouth and that his wife still cannot do what I could, swallow his load. I just walked away. I then decided to grow a beard in an attempt to counsel who I am and what I was and did. Last week though while I was in a public restroom here on base I saw an email on the toilet stall and decided that I would email to see what was up. The first email I sent was a little bio of whom I was like age, height, weight and that I was only interested in giving head. It took a while to have him send back an email and when he did he said that was all he was looking for as well. So I exchanged emails back and forth to him and bragged to him that I was really good at suck cock and that I do not use my hands at all and that I can make him cum in a few minutes at which time I would swallow his load to the last drop. He said that he liked that idea and sent me a picture of his hard cock which was really, really big and thick. We exchanged a few emails after that in which he kept asking where and when we could meet. I kept putting it off until I sent him an email telling him I could not do it. On that day my wife came by my desk and I was acting strange as I normally do when I am doing wrong. I pulled the common access card from my computer and ushered out of my office in fear that she would see an incoming email to my work account from him and also emails from a lady at NAVFAC that could be seen as misleading in nature based on my past history with that kind of people. She knew something was up and demanded that I allow her to see my email account. I did go on and rolled through the emails while she looked over my shoulder telling me to slow down and which I did not. In the end I by card and told her I was not going to put up with this shit anymore which she knows is me saying I am doing wrong. She told me that this will ruin or marriage and I told her I did care when in fact I did and was scared as hell. Soon after I felt really horrible and when to get my card pin number reset, but the machines where down because of a software update that was taking place in the states. That weekend we argued a lot so on Monday I went and reset the card and came directly back to our job and handed her the card with my pin number so that she could access my email. However, she refused and I went back to work. When I opened my email at my desk I did not see any emails from him and was very happy. Later on the following week we found out that we were having our fourth child which made me so happy and excited. I knew then that I really had to get help to insure that this child would not have to live a life of my wife and I always fighting because of who and what I have done and lied about. One morning she work up early because he was still not satisfied with my answer about the email. I was feed up with all of my lies so I told her what I had done as it said I should in a book that I am reading about not getting a divorce and making your marriage work. It was too much for her. She has called me gay and a fag before, but I did not care and then when I told her so much of what I had done those words hurt me so much, but not even close as to the pain I have caused her, my ex-wife, my children and especially my unborn child. So many other people I have also hurt like all of the other women. I had become all that I hated and more. I feel as if I have no right to be happy and that everyone would benefit if I just went off some place far away from people I could hurt. I am not talking about killing myself, that will never happen, but to just become someone else and I guess just be a cum-dumpster for any guy who needed a hole to fuck. I know for a fact that if my wife did not put up with all of this for the past 14 years I would still be sucking cock to married black men while they drove around base or when their offices where empty. I would have never amounted to anything and I am sure I would be dead or close to it.
What I want to get from this an understand of why I do what I do, reenacting the things I was forced to do that have now become something I can do without even thinking about and have no guilt doing? Being able to control my fear of other males (it does not matter the race of the person) to the point that I am not stand offish and do not think that they are going to harm me, especially black males whom I need to work with from time to time. I know that other males see me as strange and not someone whom they can have a conversation with. I guess the reason why I went and messed with women is because I was trying to prove to myself that I was not sick and gay and that I was a MAN! I wanted control so again I did so with women so I could control them. I just realized my feels of discontent of my wife is because I am unable to control her and she does control me, makes me feel inferior to the person whom I should feel as an equal. I want to know that this was not my fault and that I am not to blame and that they group of guys with HM2 are the ones a fault. I want to be able to identify with who I am. I tell my wife that I was not always like this; I was a loving person who would treat women well, not lie and have friends. I miss who I was before Oct 9th, 1992.
A few months back I wrote about trying to break thru the frozen place and just make decisions. I've been working on it steadily since then. I'm not trying to imply that I never got frozen again - I did. Repeatedly. I just kept trying. I'm very proud of myself for this. It helps to look back at my last entry and remember where I was then and see where I am now.
I've done a lot of small things that are actually big things. Two small/big things are:
- I insist on finishing my dinner/lunch/breakfast before I am willing to go get seconds (or thirds) for anyone else. I figure if they're in that much of a hurry for more dinner, they can get the second helping themselves. It's amazing how much better this one thing makes me feel.
- I now lock the bedroom or bathroom door when I'm bathing, dressing, etc. They can all wait two minutes for whatever it is they want.
I've also done a big thing... a VERY big thing...
You see. I moved my mom out of my house this past week. I did it. I still don't believe it some moments. I did this. Me. Regardless of mom's approval or lack thereof. I made a decision.
- I found the secured dementia care home for her. I called my brother, discussed the arrangements, put down the deposit.
- I told DH of my decision, after I put the deposit down. I did not give him a vote. (He was totally ok with that.)
- I took mom over the next day to let her see it and meet the people. I did not give her a vote either. I just told her it was happening, kindly.
- I moved her personal items, some pictures, clothes and so forth in a day in advance.
- I took her to the place, settled her in, and went home.
- I've stopped by each day (for less than an hour each time) to be sure things are running smoothly & to drop off items.
It's only been three nights (tonight is the 4th) that she hasn't slept under my roof. I can't believe the difference in the way my household feels. I'm calmer. My children are ALL calmer. DH is calmer. It's QUIET. I had no idea how mom's behavior and influence was creating all this actual noise. I've slept better. We've ALL slept better.
I keep having nightmares that she's broken herself out of the secured care section and found her way back to my house - chasing me down for whatever her need/desire of the moment may be - lol. I figure those will fade pretty quick now.
It took me a long time to realize it, but my mom's constant presence was making me ill again. There were some things that I learned from her presence that were helpful to me. I learned that despite appearances, mom is egocentric in the extreme, and always has been. She wants what she wants, and she doesn't really care if it's inconvenient for you or damaging for you. She wants what she wants immediately and that's it. She made me the mom of the house when I was only 11 years old, and she didn't care what it did to me. Indeed, she refused to even see what it did. She only cared if she got what she wanted.
Her descent into advanced dementia while living in my house was eye opening, and illness producing. As the dementia progressed, her ability to mask her behaviors and motivations deteriorated. I was able to see what she has been doing all along because it became more obvious. What also became obvious was how damaging it was for me then, and now.
It's funny how we don't always recognize the villains in our own stories.
Ah well. No matter what, I made the decision and implemented it. That's a good thing.
Life is busy right now. We just got back from family vacation... We drove 6 hours (drive time, plus stops) with three small children for a stopover at my parents before our final destination. I had the discussion with my folks many times about when we would arrive, how long we'd stay, things we could do... We arrived with tired children and even more tired parents (I couldn't sleep the night before... Not sure why).. And they forgot we were coming. Seriously? My mom gives me this big hug and whispers in my ear "I thought you were coming tomorrow! I had too much wine!" They're both pissed! Seriously?? You see your grand children twice a year (and only because we haven't figured out a way to avoid Christmas with them) and they forgot! Fucking hell. I wish we could have been upset and got a hotel or something, but of course I do what I always do. It's ok. No problem. We'll enjoy whatever time you're awake with us and then do our own thing. What an utter let down. We talked and she alluded to what a great mom she was doing all this stuff for us - but she never protected us when she needed to, and she never threw me a lifeline when I was drowning. She turned her back on me while I was drowning and waited until I pulled myself out of the water.
On the way back we were purposely running late, only to find that we were rediculously late (arrived at 9:30pm), and my sister and her awful husband were there when we got there. We had to take a tour of the new car that we care nothing about and then they demanded that we figure out Christmas plans because "the cousins NEED to see each other". These are people that don't send us pictures of their kids, and simply follow our lives on Facebook, and we NEED to let our kids mingle.
How I wish I was a different person. How I wish I could do whatever I wanted without caring about anyone else's needs, without over thinking EVER situation to death and then fearing the outcome until I am physically ill! What do I want out of life? No idea. What should I want? What are my goals? Don't have any. What do you think I should be? What would be the best thing that could happen for me or that I could do for myself? I don't know... What do you think?
THis week I am running a daycamp for the town. I said yes to it without even considering whether I wanted to do it or whether it would be good for me. I am enjoying myself emensley and getting some excellent exercise, but I'm also completely exausted! I'm not a spring chicken anymore! When I'm tired, I feel low. When I feel low, I am so much closer to my "ugliness". I was watching a tv show and there was an attempted rape in it, boy pushes girl against lockers and tries to "convince" her to have sex, and I went to bed feeling scared and threatened. I slept for shit thinking about what the scariest sound would be (I came up with a creaking closet door in the dark and a voice "there's no where to run...". Yep, that scared me. Why did I do that to myself??
I think of who I am and the things I don't like about myself (people-pleasing, indecisiveness, my jealousy/insecurities surrounding my friends, my general lack of self esteem/self respect, self loathing...)... I truly want to be that person that is just OK. That doesn't think about the past and rip it apart trying to understand everything. If a child hurts you, can you really say that you've been raped? He was a child, unable to rape. But I got raped. So I am allowed to feel raped. Then years later, feeling raped, I freeze and fail to stop someone from having sex with me. By new definition it's rape, but in my heart I know that he would have stopped if I had said something, and it's not his fault that I froze. He didn't rape me, I got myself raped. Then with M, I was drunk and just laughed. Not rape, but it still feels awful. With the married guy... Can't remember his name... It was over 20 years ago, that's insane! And he was young, like 18?? I didn't want to. I stopped him the first time, resisted the second, and then just gave up. Not rape, but it too never sat right with me. All these examples of my weakness, of my inability to protect myself. All of this comes back to the fact that I completely lack self respect.
Self-respect is learned. How do you learn it in a place where you feel completely inept and forgotten? In some ways, my parents were great - they took us on vacations, they bought us things... but I always felt like shit. Always. Good marks weren't good enough, mistakes were huge and stupid, I was huge and stupid. What erks me the most is that no one picked up on it. Or if they did, no one cared enough to do anything. I made coffee for my teachers, insisted on being a part of every type of school activity that i could get recognition with (working in the office over lunch hour, working in the library, excelling at school, drama, dance after school, patrols, etc etc etc. this was not the resume of a happy child. this was a child SCREAMING for attention. But i wasn't worthy of it. When the PTSD hit and I was completely lost, playing russian roulette with myself and hacking the shit out of my arms, why did no one notice or do anything? My sister told me that my mom read my diary. My friends knew that i was not myself and i spoke about suicide. Piece of shit guidance counselor was told that something happened to me and completely discredited me without even pursuing it. I'm sure in today's society if a counselor heard that a person was raped, that there would be a full investigation into everything. At least it would have felt like someone gave a damn. Afterwards when the entire school knew, still no one asked, no one offered help. no one reported it and said "this is one fucked up little chicken! she needs some help".
I talked to my husband after the Bishop and a therapist suggested I should. It was likely how i presented the information, but he didn't know what to do with it! Hi husband, 2 boys had sex with me when i was a child and I hated myself for it because I involved my sister too and felt as though I raped them all most of my life, but i see that maybe I'm not so bad now. "yeah, it was obviously the boys' fault". ok then, we have confirmed i was wrong for most of my life. Jeez i feel better.
I guess i realized more than anything, that i don't do well sharing with people i'm close to. secrets are for people you're close to. Can't trust people close to you. They will let you down. They will leave you alone. They can't protect you. And even if they could, they're too busy having a beer.
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It's been a struggle lately. the wild/alpine strawberry seeds I've been trying to grow seem to be showing signs of germinating! I'm hopefully going camping soon finally in a local woodland.
I love these two songs at the moment:
An old Swedish folk song
"It is a medieval style Swedish ballad that tells the story of a female mountain woman who proposes marriage to a knight. The woman is trying to convince Sir Mannelig to marry her. She offers him many great gifts but he refuses her, because she is not a Christian woman but a Pagan woman. She is desperate about her failure, because winning Sir Mannelig would have freed her of her torment."
Early one morning before the sun rose up
Before the birds began to sing
The mountain woman (pagan) proposed to the handsome young man
She had a false tongue
Herr Mannelig, herr Mannelig, will you be betrothed to me?
For that, I offer you gifts very gladly
Surely you can answer but yes or no
If you wish to or not
To you I wish to give the twelve steeds
That go in the grove of roses
Never has there been any saddles upon them
Nor bridles in their mouths
To you I wish to give the twelve mills
That stand between Tillö and Ternö
The stones are made of the reddest gold
And the wheels are silver-laden
To you I wish to give a gilded sword
With a blade of fifteen gold rings
And battle how you will [well or badly]
The battle you would surely win
To you I wish to give a shirt so new
The best you will want to wear
It [literally: she] was not sewn by needle or thread
But crocheted of white silk
Such gifts I would surely accept
If thou wert a Christian [or: pious] woman
However, thou art the worst mountain troll (pagan)
The spawn of a Neck (water spirit) and the Devil
The mountain woman (pagan) ran out the door
She shakes and wails hard
Had I got the handsome young man
I would have got rid of my plight
Herr Mannelig, herr Mannelig, will you be betrothed to me?
For that, I offer you gifts very gladly
Surely you can answer but yes or no
If you wish to or not
and this other song Brun by the same group:
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It's official, I've had enough of it all.
After a shit week with the child from hell at work, the sign that my new husband is no longer sober, and the general feeling that I could quite happily step in front of an on coming truck - I'm over it.
The kid has gone on holiday, and his parents don't see anything wrong with a four year old spewing such rage that a roid addict would be proud of when he doesn't get his own way. I've been beaten up three days in a row by this kid, punched, kicked, screamed at, verbally abused, scratched and clawed at, and almost bitten. Apparently all his parents were concerned about was 'How hard he hit the teacher'. Um, lets see.. your little darling tried to pull me down a set of steps - I would quite happily have let him fall down them if I'd let go of his hand and then he'd have hit concrete! I DIDN'T.
The boss is going to have a second discussion with the parents. It won't help, they don't care as long as no one knows about their kid. I've seen this before a number of times. The kid at four is a sociopath.
My husband was sober for a little while, probably before I got there and now is drinking all over again. He says the 'right' things, and it's probably true however on top of the rest of it, I can't handle it. I love him with all my heart, and know what I signed on for, it just fucking hurts.
Been to the doctor, the police one and had my last visit. I discovered I had three appointments with her, not five. I cried on leaving. She's the first doctor that I've ever spoken to that listened to me. My claim for further counselling came through thank god, it's one small step, and it means that things are about to get harder as I will have to dredge up the shit I've buried for years.
So far my actual GP is okay, depending on the day. Got antidepressants to take now, apparently wanting to die is a bad thing - go figure?
I hope like hell that I can get a new car this weekend before my old faithful packs it in. If it's meant to be it will be, can't change the decision otherwise. If not, I have a few tricks up my sleeve on what to look for, for car shopping. I hope to find a new home soon too, so I can get away from the rapist for good. The dirty fucker is still practicing his 'medicine' and hasn't been picked up by the cops so I get to suffer away regardless in this town.
I just want out, I want peace, comfort, to be held, and just to 'live' instead of existing. If I cry any more I think I'll sink in it.
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I feel like no one listens or cares on this website.... or really anywhere. and the people that do listen to me only do so out of an obligation, and they don't know what to do.
I screw up everything. no wonder why no one cares.
I think once I turn 18 I'm never coming back. I'm not going to talk to anyone in my current life ever again after that. I'm going to stop using the Internet. my future looks bleak.
I don't have the energy to get better.
I'm going to take a break.
i dont want to keep hogging the board but i want to say wht im feeling right now
im jealous. im jealous that my friend is getting a choice to have sex for the first time.
im jealous that i made commitments to save it even after i technically lost my virginity already
why couldnt i have this commitment?
im not worth anything
and she does know things that happened to me and talks to me about sex, tells me what she doesnt want to do....... asks me for advice about bc and
when christina grimmie was shot she hoped it wont happen to her. when i told her about myself, i should have slapped the guy and stuff. when i said i might have endo which could prevent me from wearing tampons she said maybe she should never wear them either.
when i said my platelets were high she said that she hopes hers wont be.
i feel like its competition and to end up better than me anyhow.
a choice to have sex.
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Tw: I'm sorry if it triggers at all.
Csa, r*pe, details, and swearing-ish
I knew what you wanted. I expected it by now every single day every moment where no one could possibly intervene I knew. So I stayed "asleep". I knew it would encourage you. I wouldn't know any better if I was asleep. I think you had a conscious because of this. It makes me question if it was really my fault now because I made you think I was out cold all those times. But then again, if I moved like I was waking youd leave. Part of me didn't want you to. Part of me liked it. Its the part that had plenty of notice you were coming in. Plenty of time to stop you from taking my clothes off, from doing more than just touch me. That part of me is the part that wouldn't get up after the first or second time you visited but would stay "sleeping" until your fifth or even sixth time when you got so bold and aggressive I could feel my skin crawl. It's the part that didn't get up after the first time brace a chair against the door and dress myself. It's the part that let myself lie there naked in whatever position you had me with that stupid door wide open. It's that part that didn't mind you prodding my legs open or pushing up my top to totally expose me. Its the part that liked being called beautiful that craved you noticing my body. That part that kept accepting money and gifts even though I knew what you wanted in exchange. It's the part that always gave in to unlocking the bathroom door after you tried to come in, even with your wife home. It's the part that would declare when I was going to take a shower, or change my clothes, or brag about how heavy a sleeper I was. I wanted the attention you gave me. There is a part of me that shut me up when you came for what you needed. That totally submitted to pleasing you. The part that disassociated me from you when it got too bad to handle. I remember sitting on your couch, watching cartoons, and you coming in and putting your hand down my shirt and trying to kiss me. You pushed my shirt up and groped and kissed my breasts and I didnt stop you.That that part of me ignored you, focused on the tv. That part of me let you push me down, let you put your hand in my jeans, and let you take them off and do what you wanted. It's the part that gave in because I liked it. This part let these scenes play out all the time. In every room of your house- in your family's lakehouse even. The same peice of me that missed you when you died. That wished you had said more in our last conversation besides "I love you", and that I was "special" to you. Like a granddaughter. Your last years didn't end with you treating me as if I was your granddaughter. I wonder if your wife knew. If you told her, or maybe she saw. If that's why she didnt press me into staying summer's with you both again. Or question why one summer I decided I would be fine alone all day. It wonders if you went to heaven or confessed your sins. I'm told it was all you, your sin and responsibility. Not mine. But I can't ignore this part of me that participated, lured you in, wanted and anticipated. I played a part and I am so sorry I did. It's impossible to look back on our good memories without scruitiny wondering if they were just an act to let my guard down. I loved you dammit. A part of me still does. I laughed at your funeral but that kid deep inside that never healed, cried. She wanted answers, she wanted to go back to the way it was before you went to the wrong bedroom. I am so sorry for what I've done. All I want to know is why.
Why did you do this? Why did I let you, and for so long? You took SO much from me. I had so little to willingly give when I finally found someone to actually love me. Why doesn't he think what you did is all my fault? Hes so happy for me that you're dead. He hopes you suffered. But I dont. I feel responsible you died. It's the only prayer of mine God ever answered. You were such an important person to me. So trustworthy to everyone you knew. I can't figure out what changed and made you decide I wasn't human anymore. I DON'T UNDERSTAND. I want to know why so badly and why you weren't satisfied with even one assault. Why take it so far? Why? Just why?
*not actual name
Edited to fix spelling errors apologies if some remain.
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idiot sister wanted to talk to me and i tried to put up with it. it was more of the same and i walked away. i cant take anymore. and she is set to pop out the kid any minute. not a month or two like initally thought. i walked away. how dare she ask me to help knowing i hate children. then ignore me when i complain. im done with being used. im done being shat on and laughed at and treated less than. im done being beayen tortured and lied to. im done with this life. im done.
nobody can hurt me anymore if im not here. im tired of talking and no one listening.
I am a 36 year old woman who's anger is resurfacing after many years. My anger is not directed at my brother who molested me for who knows how long but, at my mother and other brother. I recently lost my father and now all these emotions are running wild inside of me like monsters. I just want to yell at them and make them feel just as bad as i have my whole life already. I know there is a healthy way of confronting them, but how????
I was walking to work this morning thinking about various things and as normal, the self doubt and putting myself down began. This is nothing new. But it is changing. With social media and forums and the like, you can compare with numbers to other people.
I can put myself down so easily because only x no of people commented on my post whereas so and so got so much more. I must not be popular. They mustn't like me. Which leads me to withdraw more which in turn causes an issue. Because on social media you need to be social. Even if it is the ugh a computer screen. But how do you be social when there is no much anxiety and fear embedded in social media.
But I am addicted to it. It feeds my obsession. It is a form of SI because I feel sad and I hurt and sometimes I cry. But it makes me less social.
If I posted more, people would react to my posts. If I supported others more, commented on others more, people would respond to me more. If I made friends on the different media's, I would get more comments.
But I can't do small talk in real life. I can do it even less on the Internet. I don't know why. It should be easier but for some reason it's not.
So social media for the less social of us jut provokes our anxiety. But how do you get round it? Social media is our life now. There is no escaping it. But for the socially awkward and anxious...well its a living nightmare.