#i remember growing up my own family telling me my sexuality wasnt real

[professor-beaker]

(Warning: very long rant about growing up religious and aroace. Might delete this in an hour. Idk)

Dear mom and dad,

Do you remember when i was 14, and had my first kiss? You probably dont- for you, it was just another sunday. He was one of my only church friends, and he pulled me, alone, into one of the music rooms after sacrament meeting. You encouraged me to go with him, because you could read the signs i couldnt. He was very polite, but when we kissed and he grabbed my hand on the way out, it felt more wrong than anything id experienced before. I ran back to you, crying, and you walked me through rejecting him. You basically told me that i was just too young, that it would get better, but it certainly didnt feel that way at the time. Every time youve reminisced on it since, it was only to laugh at my expense. At my naievety.

I tried to take your words to heart. I tried to listen each time our church would preach about how essential families were and each time you told me how happy you two were. It didnt work.

Do you remember when i was 15, and i told you, mom, that adopting sounded way better than having biological kids? You got so offended, and i had no idea why. I still dont. You told me it was a natural part of life, that we were supposed to bring children into this world. I tried to explain my reasoning- why would i want my own children when there are those who are suffering on their own? When the thought of procreation made me sick?- but you dismissed it. It was just another day.

Do you remember the brief period when i was 15, when i dated a girl? I assume you dont, because you never found out. I lived in constant fear, because the comments you would make at the dinner table described lgbtq+ as an affront to God, as unnatural. I had thought that men were the problem, and she was my first real partner. But nothing changed, it still felt wrong, and we fell back into only being friends. I hadnt told you about that until today, because i knew exactly what youd say about it. I knew exactly what youd say about me.

Do you remember the boy i met when i was 16? The one with the curly hair and the kind smile. You were always pushing me toward him, because you saw how he looked at me (i saw, too- and i didnt like it). He took me to homecoming, and prom, and danced too close to me for my liking. You always asked if we were a thing yet- and when i said no, you smiled knowingly. I hated that smile. And you smiled that smile for years.

I reconnected with him when i was home over winter break. We hung out once, i told him my sexuality, and he barely reacted. When you asked how it went, i told you i rejected him romantically, but we were still friends. Do you remember what you said, mom? You said, "so you broke his heart and left." I cried that night.

Do you remember when you found my aroace pins a month ago? Im at college in a different state- a religious college you wanted me to go to- and you still made it your priority to berate me for it. I dont know if you could tell how angry i was over the phone, but when you said "asexual and things are just looking for attention", it broke my heart.

Because i figured it out when i was 17. Because it took me two years to finally accept it in a religion that very strongly emphasized the family unit. Because i finally felt accepted, i felt heard, i wasnt being dismissed at every corner. Because i had something to explain why i was like this.

Because i finally didnt feel broken.

I never doubted that you loved me- not once, ever, in my life. Not until you started degrading me for something i couldnt control. Not until you started pressuring me to date people i would much rather be friends with. If youre not going to love all of me, then do you even love me at all?

I hope you know that i still love you, despite everything. But i hate the way you talk to me now, the way you talk to others about me. And i hope that one day, you, too, will realize that im not broken, or affronting God, or unnatural. I hope you realize that im still your child.

I hope you realize im still human.

[mejomonster]

I know the current bi rep in shows overall isn't perfect, but woe does it mean a lot to me just how much more common it us to nowadays find lots of mainstream watched shows that have explicitly bi characters in them

When I was growing up there was rarely lgbt representation in shows unless they were specifically made for lgbt audiences (buffy is the only one I can think of, or a couple eps in ds9, xena was subtext but the close, then there was queer as folk and the l word that mainstream wasn't watching)

And now? I can check out a show a family member recommends, and there's a good chance there's a bi character like me. Not always, but a decent amount of time. How to Get Away With Murder. The 100. Pretty Little Liars. Person of Interest. Orphan Black. Black Sails. (And I can find cdramas with bo characters like Bureau of Transformers like Two Souls in One like Bromance, can find Thai dramas like 3 Will Be Free, Japanese dramas like Kieta Hatsukoi). Can find video games like Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Assasins Creed, Life is Strange, The Last of Us 2. A lot of these aren't perfect by any means and some I like or dislike more than others.

But when I was growing up? People told me flat out that bisexuals didnt exist. Authority figures, peers, told me how I felt wasn't valid and I needed to "pick." Told be bisexual just meant I wanted to sleep with everything that moved (which yes fucked up to say to a person and fucked up to say to a 15 year old kid). And I had so little way of knowing any better, of examples of myself to counteract what I was being told and expected to do. My school GSA also didn't think bisexuality was a 'thing,' but instead a 'phase' or for attention or people who haven't made up their mind (and god do those beliefs make me angry). It took years of being surrounded by this and occasionally thank God meeting another bisexual person who felt like I did and understood, of finding online lgbt resources that recognized bisexuality, it took finding more community.

And now its just. I'm so glad if I was a show I can see someone like me. I'm so glad no one in my family can say "bisexuality isn't real" because it's not something to believe anymore - I can point out a celebrity who's popular who's bisexual, I can mention a show a movie a game they've seen and bring up what bisexuality is in case they want to play pretend that they cant understand what it is. But growing up people genuinely got away with saying it wasn't real, claiming you were in a phase or being a freak, and you couldn't find another person like you at your age who wasn't being fed the same bullshit to hate themselves and wonder why people were calling their feelings fake, you couldn't find a piece of popular media and go THATS what I'm like goddamn it.

God it isn't perfect by any means but representation does matter and I'm so glad to see the increases that have happened over the last couple decades. (In the movie industry in some ways its gotten worse mind you, Disney being one particular fucker). But just like... if I'd been 15 and seen Annalise Keating on TV I might have known bisexuality is real and I can grow up and have an established life and there's bisexuals who know their sexuality and live their lives. If id seen The 100 I might have realized you can love multiple genders and not have to 'pick' like all the fucking adults in my life claiming. I remember so fondly But I'm a Cheerleader growing up cause it's was a rare movie I saw where a girl who loves a girls feelings were treated as REAL and they got a happy ending. Just seeing lgbt people at all as explicitly accepting of their sexuality and acknowledged and having a happy ending was notable. I remember even Jennifer's Body stood out back then because even not being the main point, and being a horror, it was nice to see another bi teen girl like I was in anything. There's still so much more Id like improved on and more diversity shown and more stories in general explored. But it's nice to see bi people at all in common things now, on channels other than specifically for lgbt audiences, it's nice to see enough now that I know a person watching regular media is more likely to at least vaguely know lgbt people Exist. (Whereas when I was growing up, if you weren't watching lgbt channel stuff or japanese bl anime you were unlikely to see lgbt people mentioned at all as a thing that even might exist - even shows that barely do much now like Teen Wolf having a minor gay character where it's explicitly acknowledged is more than mainstream media was likely to show when I was growing up). I'm just. I'm glad there's a bit more visibility.

[kaorinessislove]

20210711

hi tumblr, it’s been a while since i last opened you. 

well here i am again because i think i needed to vent out my emotions. because if not, i know for sure that it will gonna eat me inside. 

you know what, since i started dating my entire life, i had no idea that i’ll become this girl who would be just an option for someone i am interested with. you wanna know the reason why my first boyfriend and i broke up? he broke up with me with a very vague reason the moment my bestfriend in highschool became single again. i didn’t know the real reason behind the breakup not until the day i was hanging out with my other friend in her house and she told me the real reason because she thought i deserved to know. it was very embarrasing because i literally cried hard that day (oh well because it was my first heartbreak) and what’s more hard was my bestfriend was also in love with that guy i used to date and to be honest with you it took me time to heal but eventually i accepted it because i felt that they were both sincere (well, they’re not together know, they are both happy with their own love lives) and even until today i remained friends with the girl and i am very close to her family.

fast forward to college.

so i met this guy on the 3rd term of my 1st year college days. we dated for almost 5 months. i really thought he was sincere, to him, i lost my virginity and made me believe that i was the first. ignoring all the red flags that came my way i continued to the relationship until we both decided to end things between us, little did i know that i was once again encountering something similar with my first. a month after our breakup , i don’t know why but we were starting to talk again  BUT there was a caring friend of mine who told me the whole story the time we broke up. they were in a club drinking with my girl friend, my friend who told me everything, my ex and other people. though my friend was tipsy, he was sure of what he saw, that my friend and my ex were kissing. at first i am not bothered since we were not dating that time. but there was a day of confrontation where i learned everything. that the time and moment we were dating,my ex was thinking of my friend the whole time right from the start  wishing that he was with her instead of me. like WHAT THE FUCK like why did u bother yourself and most especially bother me and waste my time lol. oh because he cant be with that girl because his friend is dating that girl. so i was a total wreck but with the help of my college friends, i surpassed that time of my life.

fast forward today. 

I was a dating a guy who has a very high libido. and u know what i am really doing my best to catch up with that libido of him because he said that sexual relationship is important to him. though there are plenty of times that i would get into trouble because of that. so the other day, he said he was reflecting on about his life and the next step we would make for our relationship to grow until we came on a certain topic about sexual fantasy. i know what’s his sexual fantasy is, it’s threesome with me and of course with other woman. and i asked who’s the other woman in his fantasy aside from me, though i already have a clue of who she is. IT’S NON OTHER THAN MY BESTFRIEND IN COLLEGE. idk why but though i already  expected it there’s something heavy inside me i carry since the first day i found out. I was ok the night i found out but the day after, it drove me crazy until now. the reasons as to why she’s in his fantasy was we three have the common things, like we are living alone in other countries, that SHE IS HIS TYPE. mind you that was the exact word of his. that she has a beautiful face (because she is half british and almost of the guys in college are dying to date her) that she is intelligent (undeniably intelligent) that she is kind (indeed) and last but not the least she has a nice body. like what the fuck hahahahahahaha though prior to telling me this honestly. he told me that i should not be angry. i know i am not this beautiful, nor intelligent (i am average but i am more streetwise lol) and it suddenly became my source of insecurity. BECAUSE I remember the time before my man asked me to change his ig and twitter pw, that friend of mine was the last person he searched lol and he liked whatever she tweeted. 

i still wasnt able to tell him about what bothers me now but since that day i don’t reply to his messages properly and as of the moment i am on my nightshift and i cant seem to focus well so i did make use of our internet here to vent out (my boss told me that it’s ok to use the internet and study lol) tbh my fingers hurt right now lol. 

my real thought right now; i am tired to be an option. tired to be someone who’s always available. if they dont like me from the start i really hope that they would just let me live my simple life, because to begin with i didnt need and want them. i think i deserve more. i deserve the freedom that i long ever since. and because of this, despite my age (turning 24 in a few days) i no longer want a commitment because of this trauma. lol 3 times and i thought i was enough but was never enough. because of this, i aspire to be a strong, independent woman that no man can reach me because i am afraid i might be an option again. i dream to be the crazy rich  person who smokes and drinks a lot, may be alone, but free. totally different from the real me because i was told that im boring then. u really dont know what you’re capable of when you’re hurt. 

[lovebunnie]

fr the poem questions: all of them >: )c

jared... only for you...

the tyger – are you a taker of calculated risks or do you enjoy playing with fire? would you rather ask for permission or forgiveness?

i am a major rule follower, i am not at all adventurous and i like to stay in my comfort zone. my life is a mix of staying true to my comfort zone and doing what I feel is right, first instinct. 

i carry your heart with me – do you believe in fate? what’s your secret to living a good life?

i tend to not believe in fate, it tends to make people not take responsibility for their actions and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth; predestination takes away humility from us. and i wouldnt say that im currently living a good life, its getting there but more often then not i would not describe my days as ‘happy’, more so just another day. but to make a day not outwardly bad, i firmly believe in having a really good breakfast in the morning and taking a shower at night. both of those really make my days better.

i wandered lonely as a cloud – what does nature mean to you? where do you feel most at peace?

nature for me is what comes to us instinctively and what we turn to for comfort in trying times. i feel the most at peace either at summer camp or in my bedroom with my cat :3

blackberrying – what were your early years like? do you miss being a child?

my early years were very happy, i was a very happy and funloving child. it was a time where i wasnt told about any of my family drama so i lived in blissful ignorance. i definitely miss being a child, all the way up to about 7th grade. its just been downhill from 8th grade and on.

ode to a nightingale – how do you feel about your own mortality? do you believe in life after death?

my mortality is something of a burden i carry with me everyday, a reminder that every minute is precious and this is the only life i get, i have one shot to not fuck it up. i dont believe in the afterlife, the concept of death is something that if i think too hard about then itll fuck me up.

hope is the thing with feathers – what gives you hope? what would you tell your 10-year-old self?

hope comes from those news stories about good news, like charity donation goals being hit and remembered anniversaries and flower bouquets in public, there is good in the world and sometimes its hard to find but its always there. to my 10 year old self, i would tell her to not hold too tightly to those around you, and that life constantly changes so dont get too attached or comfortable because itll prevent you from growing in the future.

the road not taken – do you find it hard to make decisions? what regrets do you have?

its really hard to make decisions because i always assume that my ideas are wrong or bad so if someone else takes the lead, i cant be blamed. as far as regrets, i wish that in my past, i just put myself out there more. i couldve spent highschool actively seeking for possibilities instead of sulking and wishing they came to me. they dont ever, you have to find them.

still i rise – what's your relationship with yourself like? what are your best qualities?

i have a bad relationship to myself; if i admire one trait about myself, the other traits must be less than. for example, if i think i look nice one day, then i remember abt my grades or my writing and how much i hate both of those. i can never be fully at peace, it will never be enough to sate my psyche. my ‘best’ qualities depend on the day, right now i think i have nice eyelashes.

howl – can you express yourself freely? do you feel smothered by societal norms?

i struggle everyday to be my genuine self. its not so much societal norms but my own mind; i want to look nice but i dont want to attract too much attention. i want to be remembered but not for how good my ass looks or whatever. my biggest fear is that people see me as something desirable but only sexually so i want to dress how i feel but i cant because im terrified of the gaze of men on my campus.

the raven – are you in touch with your feelings? how would you describe the relationship between emotions & rationality?

im extremely in touch with my feelings. i can acknowledge when i am angry or sad or happy, even if i dont know why. i allow myself to feel my feelings and then let them pass, i hate bottling those things up. between emotions and rationality, i use my emotions 9 times out of 10. i ask myself, ‘what do i want?’ and the first thing i come up with, i know is what i truly want to do. 

sonnet 116 – how do you define love? what qualities do you look for in a significant other?

i think love is everything; its the warmth of hanging out with familiar people, its when people remember facts about you, its a meaningful hug and its ‘this reminded me of you’. its different for everyone but i feel love in everything i do. in a significant other, the biggest thing is being able to make me laugh, if youre funny than im sold.

to autumn – what's your favorite season and why? what cherished memories do you associate with that season?

my favorite season is winter because it has lots of holiday warmth, good food, pleasant childhood memories, and comfortable clothing. also i love snow. i have very vivid memories of a blizzard in maryland when i was 11(?) years old, my neighbor tied a sled to the back of his ATV and dragged us around the cul de sac, it was so much fun!!

the waste land – do you like big cities? if you could choose any place on earth, where would you settle down?

i love big cities, they evoke so many feelings of love and the atmosphere being surrounded by people makes me so happy! if i could live anywhere, i think it would be san francisco, i love the city and the weather and the public transportation!!

o captain! my captain! – what are your aspirations in life? what motivates you?

in life, i want to give a tedtalk. i would also love to publish a book but i dont like what i write so if i ever did, id end up hating the book anyway in a year or so. i want to teach people the joy of public speaking and i want to give kids the joys i had given to me by my teacher when i was their age. my motivation comes from, this has to be done and if no one else will do it, it might as well be me. i have the passion and everything else will follow after that.

she walks in beauty – what's your aesthetic? how would you describe the relationship between inner goodness & outer beauty?

id describe my aesthetic as lovecore, i love the color pink and red and hearts and flowers and teddy bears and dresses and sparkles and valentines day and i love everything stereotypically ‘cute’. and i feel there is no outer beauty without inner goodness, if someone has bad intentions or a rotten core, their outward appearance will reflect.

one art – how do you deal with loss? do you write diary entries, poetry or prose?

thankfully i have not had to go through tremendous loss in my life but when i feel an emotional loss or general low point, i tend to move towards art, aimless doodling to take my mind off of situations. it centers me.

work, sometimes – how does your favorite weather make you feel? what is happiness to you?

my favorite weather makes me feel SO happy, all smiley and giddy and like things are going to be okay, just for one day, i will make this a good one. happiness to me is comfort and joy, its something that makes you laugh until your sides hurt and its art that you look at and feel. happiness isnt a huge moment, its little moments scattered throughout the days.

acquainted with the night – do you think there's such thing as the right time? what’s your outlook on the world?

no, i dont like to set things off for the thought of there being a right and wrong time. time isnt real and we only have so long on earth so there is no time but the present. go get that tattoo, ask them out, eat that snack. my outlook on the world is that there is a lot of bad shit but there is also a lot of good shit you will never see but it important nonetheless. you cant change the world in a day so you might as well take it one day at a time, working everyday to make it as good as possible.

if – do you daydream a lot? are you volatile, or do you stay calm when conflicts arise?

i love to day dream, it helps me determine what i really want and its a lovely distraction when the goings get tough. i try to avoid conflicts in every situation possible but if i were pushed, id either accept my mistake and apologize and work towards a better future; or i would tell the other person how im feeling and what i can do to help them feel better.

what would i give? – do you cry often? if you could change anything about your past, what would it be?

things make me sad but rarely enough to cry, things more so tend to weigh me down then break me. i let the sadness take me however it sees fit. and if thats to cry, so be it. if i could change anything about my past, i would just say that you will only get this chance to start over in a new state once, the years will go by quick so to TAKE OPPORTUNITIES WHEN THEY SHOW THEM SELF TO YOU!!!!!!

[revenge-goth]

addiction: a life update

so im gonna post an update on my life. not that yall want it or will even read it but i really need this rn soo. also theres a lot im not gonna iclude bc i wanna talk about addiction. theres a lot to be said about gow i used sex as a coping mechanism, my relapses with self harm, and my journey w medications and mental illness. ill save that for another time. also huge trigger warning for addiction, rape, and suicide.

----------

i started drinking back around 2013 when i was 15. from there, i became a high functioning alcoholic for the next three years. i would always start my day drinking, always took tumblers w alcohol to school. no one really noticed until around my senior year when it really started to become more of a problem due to having been in a really sexually abusive relationship. i did it to cope with everything. i was scared about the future since i never thought i was going to make it past 17 and my 18th birthday was slowly approaching. i was scared about college and growing up and what i wanted to do with my life. i remember being really drunk when receiving my awards and scholarships at a school district function. i remember i found it funny that a fuck up like me was representing my high school and seen as a really successful student while i was masking my drunken state.

by the time i went to college i was blowing through cash for alcohol, i stole from bars, i stole from frat guys. i lied a lot. i did a lot of stupid shit.

during this though, my following on twitter was growing steadily. my drunken thoughts and actions became peoples entertainment and was sensationalized by those around me. people would recognize me as sandia goth in public, people wanted to party w me, people wanted to hang w me, people loved that version of me.

in 2017 i started abusing pills after being raped at a party. i was really drunk when it happened and i dont really remember it. that night is one of those regrets i have to carry with me for the rest of my life. at first i would abuse sleeping meds. later on i started to abuse the fuck outta my antipsychotics. eventually i was prescribed ativan, a benzodiazepine, and that was the beginning of my downward spiral. i was constantly downing pills with a bottle of vodka every night. i was always really careless. i had it in my head that maybe taking all those pills and drinking would eventually end up killing me and that one night i just wouldnt make it home. i dont remember a lot from that period in my life. i remember vague things like stading out on my dorms balcony while all the color around me was extremely saturated and everything was shiny. i remember waking up after a really bad bender in my own vomit. i remember how disappointed my sister was. i remember staring at the bathroom floor.

i hit rock bottom that december, i had tried to commit suicide multiple times in my life but this time i felt like it was a lot more real and a lot more final. it didnt happen though. i dont remember christmas and in my drunken state i lost the christmas present my sister was so excited about giving me. looking back at pictures you could tell that i wasnt there at all and that my family was taking notice.

in january 2018 i checked myself into an inpatient hospital to get sober. i was terrified. i showed up to the hospital intoxicated. they ask you a lot of questions when you come in and i remember talking about everything and just laughing about it. the assessor was really creeped out. they made me sleep it off in a waiting room before they let me into the unit.

it helped a lot and i met a lot of people i wont ever forget. it was kind of weird being the youngest there and group was rough. i remember staying in my room and not being able to go eat because my heartrate was at 52 and i felt actually dead. the withdrawal process was really difficult and staying off was even harder. the first thing i did when i was discharged was drink a whole lot, get high, and had my friends drive me across half of the valley going 90 on the freeway while blasting lcd soundsystem with the windows down at 3 am.

after that i decided that it was time to really stop. my parents had cleared out the liquor cabinet and moved me to a room downstairs with no lock where they could keep an eye on me. they found my stash and threw it out. i also started smoking a lot of fuckin cigarettes. i was sober for about 5 months.

i started drinking again but just socially. a healthy amount. i was good except for a few hiccups here and there until march 2019 when i was raped, again, at another party. i was sober this time which really fucked me up. i remember everything and still have nightmares about it. i started abusing medications again and smoking a lot of weed. i was high for about three weeks before i became suicidal and called the cops on myself so i could be hospitalized. i would end up being hospitalized for two weeks. when i got out i started snorting ambien (which is fuckin wack and i dont recommend). that landed me back in the hospital two weeks later. i would be hospitalized two more times before being stable enough to not have someone taking care of me 24/7.

and we come to now. last week i relapsed. i got really sick though bc the wine i drank was spolied. it really scared me though because i thought my braincells were dying because of all the pills i had snorted (i literally thought this) but it was just the wine. it kind of scared me back to my senses though that that path is not the fuckin way to go.

ive recently gotten back to the things i love: music and art. i reopened my tumblr acct, found my sketchbooks from high school and dug up my old music. doing all of this, including doing a lot of research on my old icon gerard way, watching life on the murder scene and crying because ive been there, and seeing frank iero live, has (as ridiculous as it may sound to most that someone you look up to can be a saving force) made me consider getting clean for 2020. for real this time.

sometimes i miss her. the sadia goth everyine loved and looked up to. i lost a lot of friends when i got sober and even more followers. thats not important in the grand scheme of things, it was an empty sense of validation for me. whats truly important is that im not her anymore. im me. addiction prone, mentally ill, over medicated, lonely, sad, artistic, gives no shits, emo trash, goth icon, uses way too many gerard way references, astrology loving, empathetic to a fault, me.

i know that this is something im going to struggle with for the rest of my life, but i really want to go forward knowing that im trying my hardest and giving it my best shot. this is possibly my hardest feat, my biggest challenge in life, but im trynna make it and ill sure as fuck never let it take me alive.

xoxo,

-sandia goth

(alondra)

[wdfa]

coming back from winter break like HELLO NAUGHTY CHILDREN ITS RELAPSE TIME

warning for... um. lots of stuff. a loooot of self hate/negative self talk. internalized transphobia/cissexism. discussions of sexual experiences (not in detail). menstruation mention. depression and symptoms.

im struggling so hard rn ugh so many Symptoms.. especially with feelings of worthlessness!!!!!!! like i just feel like im annoying ppl with just my existence!!!! UGH like i know it’s irrational bc so many ppl love and care about me and they have voiced these facts as well as affirmed them through actions! and they continue to do so! it kinda has a lot to do with my dysphoria? im not sure how to like. explain it??? because there is Context.

last saturday my frat had a brothers-only party and it was fun and cute and i had Such a Good Time because i love my brothers! some alumni came too like i got to see my grandbig again and my 2 adopted grandbigs LMAO... one is dating my gbig so she’s step-gbig i guess not adopted? but the other one is in my family line, and he has 2 “real” grandlittles but he adopted me and one of my fifth (?) cousins. ANYWAYS it was really tender because that literally happened that night, he said “as far as im concerned, i have 4 grandlittles... plates, kali, billy, and u” and im not kidding i almost cried it touched my salty ass heart. and that was pretty much the theme of the night, just me loving on everyone and everyone loving on me! 

i was kind of worried about that tbh because i was wearing one of those douchey ridiculously large arm-hole tshirts and my scars were pretty visible,,,, but like everyone was really cool about them like i got some compliments actually haha mostly they were just like “aw im so happy for u/proud of u” but one of my older bros (who happens to also be a bass!!) said smth like “yo those are really cool thats so hardcore!” which pleasantly surprised me because he’s a very aloof and sarcastic kind of person, so getting something genuine was really neat. and so much good happened that night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it was great!!!!!!!!!! but also like. ugh. i guess more context needed. 

in my pledge class of 7 only 2 of us were virgins and im one of them. like ive literally never had any Sexual experience, and it was always because i was never comfortable enough with my own body due to dysphoria. even when u get past that my high school was fucking tiny so who was going to love my fat trans ass 8^) and my pbro’s situation was a little different, but he’s gay and his high school was similar so he never had the option to explore anything either. and we were like. together on that u know? i had kind of accepted that it wasnt realistic for me to want things like that, and while that realization hurt, i knew that i had someone in the same boat. but then he goes and loses his virginity!!!!! and this is where i get MESSY LMAO IM NOT READY FOR THIS BUT HERE GOES

first of all i want to say that i am 100% happy for him because he’s my friend i will support him until the end of time and he told us it was important for him finally being able to celebrate himself and grow up and operate with sexual/personal autonomy and live his own DAMN LIFE and im so so SO proud of him for that!! and i HATE myself so FUCKING MUCH for being selfish and feeling this way and taking something so important to someone i love and making it about myself, but. now its like im left behind. i hate this feeling so fucking much i hate being left behind/forgotten about/ignored/excluded from anything and everything. and now this is something that everyone has gone through but me. and it fucking sucks even more because i know the main reason that i havent done this is because im trans!!!! like i didnt ask to be this way!!!!!!!! trust me! its so fucking difficult!!!!!!!! i hate being different sometimes, i literally just want to be like everyone else, i want to be fucking normal for once. like i know that ‘normal’ doesn’t actually exist but im tired of having to struggle through things that other people dont. and ive really just been dwelling on this and extrapolating like “welp no one will ever wanna hook up with me or date me or love me and im gonna die alone like the piece of shit i am” and it’s just opened up soooooo many Bad Feels that i either havent thought about before or did a really good job at repressing! literally just shitty Dysphoria garbage!!! 

and now its like. “ok well u dont want to be a virgin anymore then go out and have sex” WELP it doesnt really work that way!!! i’m very masculine in appearance (or at least i try to be) and the people who are attracted to me expect me to be a Cis Male, because unfortunately we assume everyone is cis until proven otherwise. bottom line is theyre gonna expect me to have a dick! but i dont! what happens when im into someone and theyre not aware of this fact? what if we Get Going and start Doing the Do but theyre like EW GROSS DIE??????? i just keep thinking about this!!!!!!!!! its in my head and i cant get it out!!!!!!!!!! like i Did Not go to bed on sunday night because i just keep dwelling!!!! i went to therapy on tuesday and told all this to my psychologist and usually that gets it out of my system but no!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! she’s usually really helpful because she approaches things logically rather than emotionally but that didnt work in this case i guess!!

i told my pbros about some of these feelings and they said the shit your friends are supposed to say to make u feel better and it was reassuring that they loved me at the time but like. i guess it didnt stick lol because im still convinced that im unlovable even though mccoy sat on my lap half the night and david let me casually touch him (he does not like physicality so that was kind of a Bigger deal) and ben laid on top of us and we were all so tender but i literally cant translate that into permanence i guess!!!!! but also bad things happened at meeting that kind of validated my fears bc me n a few bros were talking, i think it was me and a gay guy and a girl who thought she was straight but shes questioning if shes bi and i cant remember who else because i was Turnt but these two were like the main source of conversation. the guy was like “im definitely gay like i know i dont like girls because vaginas are just gross” and the girl was like “yeah i dont know, im attracted to hot girls but idk if i could ever fuck w/ a girl because ew vagina” LIKE im.... ... standing............ right .... here...................... and i said something! like “thats transphobic not everyone w a vagina is a girl” and i cant remember exactly but they totally like. brushed me off. i initially have all of these doubts, then my bros are like “yooo that’s irrational, everyone loves u” which makes me feel better and kind of makes the doubts get less awful BUT THEN this happens and we’re back to square one SO.

it doesnt help that i fucking started my period on monday. i havent had it in over a year. but i had to skip a dose of T before my surgery and my ADHD ass forgets everything so i ended up skipping like 3 so apparently this is what happens when you stop taking it :) im really hoping that this is the reason im so emo about everything right now UGH.

all of these feelings are just taking such a toll on me its like im weighed down,,, i was supposed to do some studying today and take some notes but instead i stayed in bed and played games on my phone lol!!!!!! i didnt even do anything fun!!!!!!!!!! and now im alone on a friday night doing NOTHING just like i did fucking NOTHING all day today!!

what sucks about this is that im alone because i feel sad.... but being alone makes me feel even MORE sad........... like im happy when im with my friends, im happy when im with my brothers, im happy when im at the house! but for some reason i cant just text a bro at random whenever im feeling down. like if i did, i know that no matter who it was theyd give me the support i need/the support id get at the house with everyone there. but i cant make that move, i cant take that risk, because i must Avoid.... like i know talking to ppl and being around them makes me happier, and i know if i did gather the ‘courage’ or w/e to do that then the odds of getting a positive response would be 99% but i just. Cannot initiate. because that 1% chance of rejection is just too much. im terrified of it. even if i did take that chance i dont even know what i’d say??? “hey lol im kinda craving death because im a worthless abomination haha wyd” ????? im still not comfortable w talking about being trans. like i am a bit but only with certain people. definitely not with the brotherhood. maybe my big? but she just got a new girlfriend so i dont want to bother her. honestly i dont want to bother anybody!!!!!!!!!! which is Wrong because i tell ppl all the time that their emotions are valid and theyre not bothering people who care but HERE WE FUCKING ARE KIDS!

ok i think im done now i just. really had to get that out. replies and likes and asks are welcome but the other thing is not allowed. the thing with two arrows that kind of go in a circle. none of that.

[meanwhileinoz]

People On Reddit Share The Dark Secrets That Could Destroy Their Marriages

We’ve all got secrets.

Things we are afraid to tell anybody. People will judge you, especially if your secret is messed up.

That is why we have the Internet. To post our secrets anonymously, facing no criticism and getting it off our chests as well. A Reddit thread revealed people sharing their darkest secrets, which could potentially ruin their lives. Read them below:

“Years ago my gf (we’ll call deb) and I were out with her friend (we’ll call Sara). This one day Sara had to pin unlock her phone each time to take one of many pictures….out the corner of my eye I saw her pin. I saved it in a note. Months later sara and deb were at my place and went to the pool. Sara left her phone indoors. I used her password and hit jackpot. Nudes, videos, message logs with some guy she was talking (well call jeff) to, along with tons of dick picks and videos of him jacking off…

With this goldmine of pics and vids I concocted a slow plan…..very slow. Slowly I broke off with deb but kept in touch with sara. I then created a alter ego online (we’ll call it Vanessa). For months I worked this identity so it looked real. This identity started following Sara on all social media (Sara accepted any friend requests). Vanessa blackmailed jeff. Jeff was given 2 days to stop talking to sara or his dick picks got leaked. He was chicken sh*t and dropped her like a hot potato. But Sara was strong willed…when Vanessa threatened sara to stop talking to jeff or her pics get leaked she protested…so I knew I had to change tactics. Vanessa disappeared for a while until I could get Sara’s phone in my hands for a bit. One day sara was over and ‘lost’ her phone at my place. I ‘found’ it for her the next day…. Not before I installed a spy app that let me keep track of her everything. A few weeks later Vanessa came back but now armed with the conversations sara was having with everyone. While tracking Sara’s reactions and suspicions, I made it show that Vanessa wasnt real….

Now all my friends know me as being pretty tech literate. One day im talking with Sara and she breaks down crying telling me how she been long distance sexting this guy and somebody hacked his or her phone and now shes being blackmailed by some stranger she doesn’t know. So she askes me if I could help her. Long ending short I made it look like jeff was Vanessa. I made it look like he created this person so that he could blackmail Sara into f*cked up sex stuff. Sara left him and guess who was the hero? Me. I caught ‘Vanessa.’ Sara was now safe because of me. Once we blackmailed the guy, ‘Vanessa’ disappeared… You know…for realism. Sara and I now had this tragedy…this hurdle that we overcame together. We started dating not long after. She was never going back to long distance relationships and wanted to try local….4 years later were married.”

  “My father never had anything other than boys, and my mother always wanted a girl. Try as they might, they just had tons of boys. When I was 6 they adopted a girl of also 6. Everyone was pleased, and she was quickly included into the family by everyone and we all took an immediate shine to her. Especially me.

We started playing ‘doctor’ at 9. This progressed to fooling around by our early teens, and into actual sex shortly thereafter. We’re both over 30 now. We have sex whenever we see each other. We also like to pretend we are twins when we do have sex. We’ve both had our shares of girlfriends and boyfriends, but we always kept it up even while in those relationships. She’s actually married now.

We still have sex about 2 times a month, more when the family gets together for holidays. I can’t even imagine the bricks that would be sh*t if anyone ever found out. It’s been close a few times, especially when we were younger, but nobody’s ever caught on.

  #3 From a divorce lawyer who goes by TheLadyInReddit:

“Client is an elderly gentleman, some type of retired professional. His son is a pastor. Everything about his situation seemed very normal in terms of income, property, etc. However, it turns out he had a pretty serious porn hobby and he was concerned his wife might find out and use it against him in the divorce. However, as I mentioned above, I assured him that was pretty run-of-the-mill these days and unlikely to affect anything. He then asks if I feel the same knowing the porn is not ‘mainstream.’ I asked what he means and he looks very nervous. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t referencing CP, so I pushed him on it.

The guy was into goats.”

  “My friend inherited a beautiful diamond engagement ring. The stone was worth $20K. His fiance was thrilled to receive it and flaunt it. Now his wife of 25 years, it’s still one of her most precious possessions.

Only I (and you 4 million) know that she does not own the original diamond. My friend sold the stone for $15K and an equal sized, substitute diamond on the day he picked it up from being sized to fit her…

The value of the ring was learned at appraisal, and was actually appraised a bit higher. The $20K was the number he knew he could get from a wholesaler in the district. It is still insured for the higher amount. The stone that was substituted is a diamond – and I couldn’t tell the difference. The money was mostly used to clear debts.”

“I’m an atheist. I’m also a deacon in an evangelical church. I’m not exactly proud of it but I try do my part to convince people to live like Jesus because even if he wasn’t god, he certainly had some good ideas about loving other people.

The problem for me is my family. I’m married with a one kid and another on the way. I believe that such a revelation would be devastating for my wife. I’ve tried to tell her in subtle ways but I can’t bring myself to just come out and say the truth. I love my wife and I don’t wish to harm her emotionally in that way.”

  “I am a gay man married to a woman who has no idea I am gay.

How is my life? It’s great. It’s pleasant. I have two beautiful children who I love more than anything. I have a successful job and a lovely home. My wife is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. So that is my life.

Myself, however, the way I feel inside is not so good. I feel disgusted with who I am. Growing up in a Catholic household had me living in fear of being banished by my family for revealing my sexuality. That’s not something I’m afraid will happen, that is something that is a well known fact in my family. I would love more than anything to be honest to everyone. I am a coward though…

As ridiculous as it sounds I thought that getting married and settling down etc would make these feelings I had about being gay go away. Before meeting her I was constantly struggling with the fact that I might be gay. My upbringing made me believe that being gay was wrong and so I always tried to convince myself that that’s not who I was. For awhile it worked. I think I wanted so bad to be straight that I just made myself believe I was. I got married to my wife at 23 and for a short time after our wedding I was relieved. I thought ‘Yes, I knew it. I knew I just had to find someone who would clear all this up for me!’ That just came crashing down. We started having sex more to try and get pregnant and that caused me realise [sic] that I am a gay man. I’m not remaining in the closet because I’m too scared of my wife’s reaction. In fact she would probably be the most forgiving. I have decided not to come out because of my family. I’m not exaggerating when I say that they will disown me. They wouldn’t think twice about it. I wouldn’t be happy. I would be lost. Now that I have children that just scares me even more. I wouldn’t ser [sic] them much at all and that’s not an option for me… There are many things I wish I had done differently but I do not regret any of my choices because they’ve all led me to where I am today. My son and daughter are these amazing little people. I live in a great house with a loving and sweet little family. Our marriage (sham marriage as some people have pointed out) is a good one despite my sexuality. Our marriage is healthier than some that I know about and hear about. I have accepted that I may never come out and I’ve learnt to be okay with that. I will consider going to therapy too. This is the most I have ever talked about it. Up until now I have not told a soul and so I have really swept everything under the rug. It is amazing what you can block out if you really try.”

  “I once helped out my a female friend’s family by taking care of their cat for a week. Every day for a week, I would go over there and snoop around their house. I found my friend’s diary, and proceeded to read the entire thing. I used this information to get her to like me, and she is currently my wife.”

  “I have lesbian sex with my best friend about once a month. Neither of us say anything to our husbands. We drink a good bottle of wine, get tipsy, get nasty, and fall asleep. When we wake up, we laugh, kiss, and go about our lives.”

“No ones going to probably find this comment, but I have an addiction to prostitutes. I can’t control myself. I’m also married and my wife has no idea. I spent $2000 on our credit card while she was overseas for 3 weeks. I lied and told her that I had a gambling problem, that’s why I spent so much. Little does she know, I was bringing hookers home.”

  “I’m a guy with a foot fetish. And I -never- told my wife even though she has amazing feet. BUT it gets worse – I have a weird twist to my foot fetish. I’m really into ‘pedal pumping’ (i guess that’s the closest way to describe it) and I’m mortified to tell her or anyone else, and never have. When I was a little kid we spent a LOT of time at church during the week for mom’s choir practice and there was a decent looking piano player lady who would kick off her shoes and play the piano barefoot. And even though I knew nothing of my sexuality, I remember Saturday afternoons, being up on the stage/pulpit during boring choir practice, laying on the carpet, playing with Matchbox cars and trying not to make it seem glaringly obvious that I was transfixed watching this lady’s bare foot pushing on that piano pedal…

I was totally transfixed, and it continues to this day. Women playing pianos, organs, driving barefoot, using a sewing machine barefoot. My fantasies usually always involve me imagining myself as the pedal, and the woman has a sexy bare, nylon, or sock clad foot. If it’s a smelly foot even better. I feel guilty and stupid to this day. Why on earth would a fetish like that develop when I was a prepubescent kid?”

  “When i was in 8th grade i fell in love with my girlfriend. I never thought it would be possible for someone so young could have such strong feelings. The relationship didn’t last more than three months because my mom and step-dad divorced and i had to move. I thought about her every day since i moved away. I met another person and have been married for 20 years now. I have four kids and have no complaints about my wife. Five years ago through social media i was able to correspond with 8th grade girlfriend. It turns out that she still has feelings for me too. I have been faithful to my wife for our entire marriage but want more than anything to be with my first love.”

http://ift.tt/2xOOyzD

[ralphmorgan-blog1]

How I Got Sent To Rehab For Being Too Gay

Flickr / rabble

I grew up as a sassy little boy in Arkansas. My parents separated when I was three or four years old and had an ongoing custody battle for me and my two older sisters until my seventh birthday. I was raised by my sisters, who had to grow up far beyond their years at such a young age. While they were raising me, my parents would use us as pawns in their game against one another. Wed be carted from one parent to the other every other weekend, despite our tears, screaming, and demands for all this to stop. It wasnt our choice; the court had ordered it.

Ive always known that I was gay. In fourth grade I told my best friend that I was in fact a bio-sexual. Yes, I said bio-sexual, and I remember explaining to him that that meant that I liked both boys and girls. He looked at me for a moment, as if planning his next move, and he promptly said that he didnt want to play with me that day. I went home, and the next day I told him that Id just been joking. Though he accepted my excuse, he became my enemy when he rode his bicycle down the street, called out my name, and then spat in my face. Rage filled me as I stomped down the pavement after his bicycle, grabbing at his backpack in anger. It was then that I realized that Arkansas was not the best place in the world for me. I had to get out.

It wasnt until I was 14 years old, after I had read Harry Potter and done copious amounts of research, that I decided that I wanted to go to boarding school. My mother was against these sorts of ideas, coming up with all manner of excuses, including telling me that I was going to die and that Id never see her again. My father, on the other hand, loved this idea, because the only way it could be properly executed was if he had custody of me, a thing he had been seeking so desperately for many years. Years later, I question his motives. Why would he want custody of his son when he was just going to send him off to boarding school? Why would he want kids if he wasn’t going to raise them? But I wanted to go to boarding school, so at the time I didnt care. For the first time, I thought I was finally free.

My freshman year of high school, I attended Stevenson School, a private, co-ed boarding school located in Pebble Beach, Calif. This was an absolute dream. I had finally found a place where I could be myself. I was gay, from Arkansas, and now living in one of the most open-minded states in the nation. By the time Christmas rolled around, I had completely come out of the closet, with minimal resistance from my peers. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had truly found a place that I could call home without the fear or anxiety that my parents caused me.

Spring break arrived, and I traveled back to Arkansas to visit my family. One day my father and stepmother sat me down in the study, a routine they often engaged in when they wanted to catch us children off-guard about a problem that they had with us. This is something that I like to call the sneak attack, where they would gaslight the situation.

My stepmother began. Back at Christmas, your sister found your journal and was shocked by something that you wrote, she told me. We know youre questioning your sexuality, but what do you have to say about that?

I looked from my father to my stepmother and knew my life was about to change. My response: Well, Im gay.

Thats when the frowns began, and I dont think Ive seen my parents genuinely smile at me since. Their questions came at me like bullets: What do you think about the Bible? Dont you want kids? Youre backing yourself into a corner; why dont you wait to decide to be gay when youre 25? I’m far past 25 now and I am most definitely gay.

That summer my father forced me to work as a maintenance man. I had the pleasure of working alongside some of the most ignorant, grotesque men. These middle-aged men would spit homophobic slurs and make sexually suggestive comments about my sisters, and when I used their restroom, I was forced to stare at pictures of naked women that they had posted on the wall. As I endured my own personal hell, I came to the conclusion that my father was somehow trying to butch me up. It was as if he thought that if I spent enough time doing manual labor, listening to crude humor, and keeping away from the arts, the gay would eventually just wash away. It didnt work. What worked was that that I learned patience, perseverance, and the value of staying true to myself. I also learned how to fix a sprinkler system. I chronicled all those days in my LiveJournal that summer. Finally it was time to go back to my boarding school.

My first week back at school, my father and stepmother came to pick me up to send me to rehab for being too gay. I was sitting in biology class when my advisor came to pull me out of class. I asked her if I was in trouble, and she assured me, Of course not. On our way to the admissions building, where her office was located, she casually asked me what Id done over the summer, how my siblings were, and how my parents had been taking my coming out of the closet. I told her that my summer had been hell, that my siblings were grea,t and that my parents werent really handling my coming out very well. As we walked into the admissions building, I could see two men sitting on the couch eyeing me suspiciously (I later found out that they were narcotics officers who had been hired to restrain me and escort me if I tried to escape), as well as my advisors husband and the dean of students. Everyone was just staring at me with the saddest look in their eyes. My advisor then walked me to the door, and I will never forget what she said to me: Im so sorry about whats about to happen. Just know that Tom and I love you. And everyone here at Stevenson does, too. Your parents are here, and theyre taking you away. She then opened the door, and sitting there were my father and stepmother.

My parents told me that theyd hired someone to go through our home computer. Theyd found my LiveJournal, and they were shocked to discover that not only was I gay but I was in fact super-gay. My stepmother looked me in the face and said, You need to butch it up. My father said that theyd also found a profile I had created for myself on a support site for young gay teens. In my biography section, I had said something to the effect of, Since there arent a lot of people in this area, I decided to include myself in the San Francisco area. For this they accused me of soliciting sex online. The wording they used, soliciting sex, made me feel like a prostitute. Additionally, theyd found transcripts of AOL instant messages in which Id discussed with a friend how I would eventually come out of the closet to my younger siblings, who were merely hypothetical at the time. (My stepmother was going through in-vitro fertilization.) Of course, they accused me of wanting to turn my hypothetical siblings gay. I do have younger brothers now, identical twinsbut I’m unaware of what they know about me. I just hope that our parents hate and closed-mindedness didn’t seep into them.

At that point my parents escorted me out of the admissions building, the two narcotics officers holding me by the arms as they led me toward a car. I didnt know why I was being escorted by the two officers; I would later find out that my parents believed that I was on drugs. My peers were watching me as I took the slowest, most humiliating walk of my life. Those two burly men placed me in the car and forced their arms against my shoulders on each side of me so that I was incapable of moving. I felt like a criminal. Then my parents put me on a private plane and sent me to Timberlawn Mental Health System in Dallas, Texas.

As I was admitted into the mental institution, I was visibly upset. Of course I looked crazy, in a Claire-Danes-in- kind of way. I was being put away against my will for being gay, not to mention in a drug and behavioral facility that focused on kids with eating disorders, drug problems, and suicidal tendencies. I didnt belong there. I was stripped of my shoelaces so that I couldnt kill myself with them. I was tested for drugs (it came out negative), given a full-body cavity search (completely clean), and started on a dose of Zoloft that rendered me incapable of feeling any type of emotion. Talk about completely losing every shred of privacy and dignity in a matter of 24 hours. I was a zombie. I was stuck. I was gay and couldnt get out of there.

The kids that I dealt with while in rehab werent the same as me. There was a girl who had tried to cut her fingers off with childs scissors in order to kill herself. There was another girl who had tried to kill herself by wrapping shoelaces around her throat; she was forced to sleep on a mattress on the lobby floor so that the nurses could keep an eye on her at all times. I was the only kid in the unit who was allowed to go to sleep at night with his or her door closed. Several times staff members asked me why I was there, telling me that they thought I seemed pretty level-headed for a teenager. I told them that I was gay and that my parents werent ready to accept it. I was a minor, though, and there was no way of controlling my own destiny when it came to getting out of there. Luckily, I was discharged on my fourth day. I called my parents, thinking that theyd be happy for me and would return me to my boarding school. I was wrong. They were too busy to pick me up, and I was forced to stay there for a full week.

The next facility I was admitted to was Meridell Achievement Center, located outside Austin, Texas. This was a longer-term stay. An alternative program would have been something like Outward Bounds Intercept program, which takes troubled youth on camping adventures in order to teach self-sufficiency and survival skills. I like to describe the differences between these types of programs in MTV terms: Meridell Achievement Center is like The Real World, with youth living in the confines of a safe, structured environment, often fighting (in group therapy in our case), whereas Outward Bounds Intercept program is more like Road Rules, with a group of individuals forced to work together on adventurous outdoor tasks.

I actually enjoyed Meridell Achievement Center, in a Stockholm Syndrome sort of way, because although I was there against my will, the staff assured me that they werent going to try to turn me straight. They asked me what sort of treatment I wanted instead. So I decided that instead of becoming a straight man, I would become more assertive. Over the month and a half that I was at Meridell Achievement Center, we would chronicle our treatment via journaling and a group session called Goals and Feelings. This is where we would sit around in a circle and discuss what our goals and feelings were for the day. This was an extremely cathartic experience. I read the dictionary for fun and worked on my vocabulary.

Eventually my parents began to call and ask me how I was doing in my treatment. They were always vague about why I was there and what I needed to do in order to get out of there. They just kept telling me, You know what you have to do. Work on your treatment. Whatever that meant. After Id been there for a month and a half, they would call and ask, So when do you think youre going to get better? My response was that there wasnt anything wrong with me. Because the facility was so expensive, they once again decided to send me to another facility, for a much longer stay.

I arrived in Sutton, Vt., to attend the King George School upon the first snowfall of the year. If there is a hell, Im convinced that its actually cold and in Vermont. KGS was somewhere between a boarding school and a rehab facility. It was kind of like a prison for shady kids. I was essentially stuck there until I was 18 years old and allowed to discharge myself. Though Im still friends with some of the kids I met there, I was surrounded by misfits. It was horrible. I had a roommate who defecated on the floor, forcing us all to evacuate the dorm for health code reasons. I had another roommate who poked my eye with his penis while I tried to sleep. There was a girl who decided to eat my puzzle pieces so that I wouldnt be able to complete it. These kids were far more troubled than I was as a hormonal gay boy. During my first four months there I didnt receive any kind of psychiatric treatment whatsoever, and then the appointed psychiatrist declared me completely stable and normal. He even told me that I never deserved to be there in the first place. But how to get out?

I remember during Christmas, my parents and my sister came to visit me. They took me off campus to stay at the Wildflower Inn just outside of town. We were having dinner one night and all having a glass of Chardonnay, which only furthers my point of the absurdity of me being in rehab in the first place. The candlelight was dancing across our red faces when my stepmom blurted out that I was an accident, meaning I wasn’t a planned pregnancy between my father and mother. When I asked my father if this were true and if I were a last ditch-effort to save his marriage with my mother, he solemnly answered, Yes.

Finally, after 279 days of rehab, I was released back into the wild. As it turned out, the person who convinced my parents to let me return to Stevenson School was the very woman who had helped my stepmother through her first divorce back in the 1990s. That must have been one hell of a mental breakdown, because that was my ticket back to the place that I loved, the place that had accepted me unconditionally, the place that had made me the strong-willed, no-holds-barred, wonderful gay man that I am today.

As for my relationship with my parents today, Ill tell you this. I called my father the other day and left him a voicemail. I had left him a voicemail every day all summer long, begging for help financially because I don’t know when I’m going to eat next or let alone be able to pay my bills or rent. He hadn’t answered or returned a single phone call. I finally called and asked him if he wanted to have a relationship with me at all. He called me back and began to list all the ways that I had manipulated him over the summer in trying to receive help. Mind you, I suffer from and seek help for major depression and PTSD from childhood and adolescent abuse caused by this man. I am also a recovered alcoholic and have a little over two years of sobriety. By no means am I trying to manipulate the situation, but he instead gaslights the situation and backs me into a corner to make me feel that I had. I let him know that I felt the same about him with this situation on the phone. He did say he wanted to have a relationship with me in the end, but based on his actions and words, he doesn’t. He has five children and he could care less about any of them. Why have kids if you aren’t going to be a father?

In terms of my recovery, I drank a lot because of my memories of my childhood and the experiences I had while in rehab. I have explored in trauma therapy one in particular that had me at the bar almost every night staring into the mirror ahead of me sipping on whiskey, replaying the events from childhood. At the age of three, in his truck, propped up against the steering wheel, the pleas to, Come on, and Quick. That’s the man who sent me to rehab for being too gay. He’s a hypocrite. He sickens me. He’s a monster. And I might as well be done with him for good.

I never got the chance to come out of the closet on my own terms, so I would like to take this opportunity to let everyone know, Looks like I relapsed, because Im still gay.

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How I Got Sent To Rehab For Being Too Gay was originally posted by A 18 MOA Top News from around

[paler-than-thou]

this isnt a nasty anon! so glad you have anon back on though just wanted to reassure this wasnt nasty its actually a question sort of because you seem pretty up on metnal stuff. was wondering if you know anything abt how to cope with flashbacks i had a lot of abuse mostly sexual recently and i cant stop thinking about it is there someting wrong with me? my friends dont know and i think im losing them because i keep being so weird about things like words can i do anything about it?

Aaah thank you for the reassurance ^^ I really appreciate the thought! 

Right. First off, let me start off by saying thank you for being so brave and coming to me about this, anon or not - I know even if you don’t know the person and you are completely anonymous it can be a terrifying experience to search out advice/comfort, even from a stranger completely removed from it.

I’m going to put the answer/advice to this under a cut, as it’s long and can potentially be triggery to others, as I’m going to be talking about my own experiences as well.

Firstly, no, there is nothing wrong with you for not being able to stop thinking of it. Going by my own experiences, my abuse (and other things) happened as a child and again about 10 years ago, and while it’s no longer a daily occurrence, I still think about it regularly. It’s always there, sitting under my thoughts, and yes - if I’m having a bad day or something, it can surface. I remember a therapist telling me there is an actual reason for this - the same thing that causes people to remember That One Embarrassing Moment when they try to sleep. It’s the brain taking an instance of danger and replaying it to learn from it and try to work out how to counter it should it happen again - an evolution thing that is deeply unpleasant when it comes to being forced to relive something as horrific as abuse.

You are very much not broken for feeling like you’re fixating on it. Right now, the abuse you suffered is a very fresh wound, the pain new and jagged and so very painful and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like if you just broke your leg - the pain is unbearable and any touch makes it worse, and the place where the bone broke will never be the same. You’re going to be fixated on that broken leg until it heals to an ache, a scar and a bump, so why wouldn’t you be fixated on the mental pain? I will tell you that it gets better, it gets easier. The pain will lessen, the wound will scar but it will be healed. The thoughts, if you give yourself the time to heal, will no longer hold the pain they did and they will lessen and grow quieter until you can barely - if at all - hear them, I promise, because they have with me.

What I would strongly advise is that you try to get yourself into therapy of some sort as soon as you can. I’m assuming from how you worded this you haven’t told anyone (besides me) what happened? So right now you feel isolated and alone, like you have a dirty secret you can’t let anyone find out about. Let me reassure you it is not dirty, you have nothing to be ashamed of and you have done nothing wrong. None of this is your fault. The reason I say go to a therapist as early as you can rather than try to tell a friend or family member (as I don’t know your situation) is a therapist is in a position to actively help you, they are bound not to tell anyone anything and you don’t have to unload everything at the first session. You can work up to it, if you feel you need to - you know how much you can deal with and what you’re capable of doing, so don’t push yourself and feel you have to talk about everything immediately. Get yourself into the therapy first, then work on the rest.

The thing with the words and other bits causing you to be weird is what’s known as being ‘triggered’. It’s a phrase that Tumblr and 4chan have ruined, but it’s a very apt one. Anything can trigger a flashback or poke the wound the abuse created, from a sound to a word to a smell, so of course instinctively you’re going to want to avoid the hell out of that trigger - for instance, there’s a very specific sound that can send me into a full-blown flashback that will put me out for days, and this is years later. So I avoid any instances involving that sound. If you are not prepared to tell your friends the full extent as to why you keep having odd reactions to things that you may have been fine with before, that’s fine - just tell them you’re not having a great time mentally and ask if they could be a bit understanding. Of course, it goes without saying that if they’re dicks about it, then they are not a friend.

Unfortunately, when it comes to dealing with triggers and how they cause us to react, there’s no easy answer. This is a few ways I have found work for me, but the best thing I can give you is that trial and error and a lot of therapy is the only way I’ve found these:

Identification: Work out what the trigger is. Was it a word? A sentence? A smell or a visual stimulus? Where did it come from?

Avoidance: Is it something easily avoided? Can you work around it? If so, how? 

There’s no real easy way out of triggers except to give yourself time. There will come a point where you’ll be desensitised to it - one way I dealt with one of mine which was a song was I forced myself to listen to it on repeat until it became meaningless. That, of course, is not something to attempt unless you have the support and the mental ability to deal with it - and I would not recommend it without therapy. 

Lastly, a few words to hopefully help you feel better: You are not alone. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing about any of what happened to you is your fault - it’s the fault of whoever did this to you. You are stronger than you know, more capable than you think and you will get through this. There is so much more to you than what happened, and you will get to the point where this will no longer hurt. You may have scarring - whether mental or physical - but scars are merely signs of the battles and wars we’ve won. You can do this. You have survived, and you will continue to.

And if you fall, if you find yourself in a dark place and that you feel you are failing, remember - we’ve been there too. You are not a failure for it. Just remember there is a way out, there is a lot of places you can turn to - you’ve done it by asking me for help. You will be okay, I promise. It gets better, and it gets easier.

And if you need to, come back and talk to me, on anon or off. Take care, and I hope everything goes alright :)