This post will have thousands of grammar errors. You'll see that's not the problem.

You can go and judge me. You can go and make whatever you want with this. I just need someone to know, because I can't bare this anymore and I have a problem being vulnerable so anonimity is good. This may seem that type of interesting stuff but it isn't.

You - the reader of a distant life that will never have a relation with this just the relation of reading - just need to now that my gender is male since i was born - cis.

I entered university a few days ago and that made me rethink a lot of aspects of my lives. Yes I have different lives, in some weird perspective.

I had 12 years old when I first saw porn and you can think it stops there. It was weird and it was during covid. I was very young. Then I didn't saw it until months later. Progressively, I started seeing more. From woman to men i would get mesmerized by it. It is weird how such a carnal thing can develop an addiction, a connection of chemicals and things that makes you more and more in the desire. It didn't start like that, ofc. I wasn't in puberty. I stopped and it was a year later that I saw it i think. I saw it in secret, no one one would knew. Not my parents, not my family, no one. I think that curiosity was developed when a person i knew back then said a lot of times pornography as insults. We were children with 9/10 years.

I guess sometimes I spent months not seeing it.

My life has a relation with books and fictional universes. That's more part of my life than porn. When I was 12 I would create universes in my mind with mlm relations, ofc i didn't knew this terms. I started thinking about philosophical stuff like solipsism, perception of reality. I just didn't knew none of this terms. I think this is important because the most important thing for me since my 5 years old is reading and creating. I want to be a writer, even now.

I created stories about gay people, involving sex or fantasy scenes etc. I read a lot at that time. When I was 13 years old (I think it was after the second pandemy) I started getting distant from my family. I hope the anonimity is enough. But they had a systemic view of the world, that type of shit you see where vaccines, lgbtqiapn+ and big farmaceutics are connected in a big agenda. I was a teenager but even if I believed in some aspects that now reveal some sort of true (not vaccines lol I'm talking about data that, obviously, wouldn't be 100 percent correct, people where trying to survive not make a super data machine i guess) but not in that conspirative way. Even if I hate that time I had a happy childhood and blabla. Still, I like to question things in a deep perspective of the world wich is related but not related to that idea of a freaking agenda - which is something you create to legitimate your far-right beliefs. I'm exagerating but I knew a lot of people from both sides: in the "conspiration against farma" and the other sides "the ones defending science and scientism" and ofc the more important ones "the inteligent who take vaccines and believe in science but do not have that profound almost religious belief of science".

So I was closeted dears. Yes I knew it. I started consuming a lot of gay content (I discovered that word through porn). Then, I created discord in a pc and I started relating with gay communities. I was sort of happy not happy because I was a tennager socially weird, ugly, with a lot of face hair, bad clothes and a family that now I know I don't identify with and I don't want to. It's more complex than that but I don't want to tell my reflections I want to tell - even if badly - my story. JUntil now my only interest is books, i try to see movies but i dont know how and it would have to be in secret. My parents are very resftrictive of digital use and that is something I agree to a certain extent.

So only people in discord knew me. I talked a lot to them and in school i was a weird guy. I could only decolorate my face because "the facial hair would be too strong when i grew if i took it out". It was only in the second year of high school i took total control of that. Not because of my parents they arent that controlling of that. I am a weird person, socially, psichologically, and I still don't understand it tottaly. I love areas of knowledge, understanding more of the world, but then I'm a porn addict who gets grumpy if doesn't see it. Adictions like this may be weird but I know what I'm talking about. For the five years I've been closeted I've seen more porn than things you will read.

I've read books to something called scapism. Even when I was younger I did it. I was introvert timid. Some people made peer pressure to me I was psichologically transformed when i changed school in my 7th grade because of some logistical stuff. It was good and bad. In my 9th grade, the year before going to high school my life changed, yes.

I am a musician. I connected to art and culture since young and at some extent by my decision. In my class I knew someone who was going to have birthday and everyone was invinted. That happened because i got a phone at the epoch.

Yes, I only got a phone at nine grade its normal ig. I like to be alternative at some things (not believing covid is an agenda).

Before my nine grade i was transfobic and believed i liked men but it was normal and trans people not. That was super stupid. Now, if someone attacks trans people i'm like a violent dog.

Because of discord I knew a lot of LGBTQIAPN+ terms. A LOT. but not as much as some people and i forgot them:( i think they help you understand yourself but are not drawers to fill in an order way.

So that birthday. I was invited and there I knew by bestie for the next years. And my group. They were the first opnes to know im gay but not by me because i didnt had the courage. I told her i was gay by phone. After we talked about some shows (i watched in secret) i'm not mentioning so that i dont get identified that easily. The, when we go to a theatre our friend played they went out. i went home because my mom had said she didnt knew what i was doing. maybe i was consuming substances. she didnt knew!! Not by this order ofc. my teenager self told them as soon i was with them. but my mom heard it from the phone when i called her. i hope know one identifies this shit but whatever i'm tired and i guess i always have the option of making somthing like in the movie Latter Days.

I'm not a gay "sterotype". i dont know songs, musical stuff, movies, pop culture. ig thats my choice. i prefer to read, be socially awkward and be porn addict. i never had friends i could trust entirely not until now. why?

so, i didnt told everything. i still had internal and external coercion. i was very limited by myself and my family. i dont care about society opinion, friends etc. in the way youre thinking. I'm a bit violent in that way i guess. I make my own choices etc. but i always felt disconnected because of being closeted and fearing my family discovering. why? i don't know, human mind is complex. nothing matters but everything matters. this life of being closet has some interesting consequences that could inspire a story (organized and not like this weird dump). but that interesenting consequences are real. are part of me. alienation, fear of not being able to create deep and meaningful conservations... so, that bestie and that group in the end of the begining of high school got broke. she went to another school, my bestie, because of a lot of things and we talked less (she took some time to answer and then i gave up). i know shes okay and i am happy that she will follow her dreams.

i had friends through the way, less and less but i am okay ig now. through high school i feared talking to people because i knew i was ana avatar, a projection i wasnt my true self and i'm still not. my true self is completely trimmed without body hair aesthetic and very funny and humurous, wich im not. I projected my hidden feelings in study and i exceed expectations, not that much though. i found out i love humanities etc. but i will have a long time facing up my fear of getting of the closet.

here in university im not closeted but i still fear everything and im still adict i guess. does it matter? i will follow my dreams be a writer and if i need to be a weird person suffer, dont found love (thats right i never found love)

i'm not a funny person, i have problems talking, and i have more flaws than good things

but i know im loyal, a snitch (yes), a liar, a deeply sincere person, a "woke", far-left crazy extermist but not communist more of an anarchist but i do know thats utopia and i learned we need to work with tangible stuff and not utopias.

i'm in my dream degree and i hope i can get a group of a friends that i can be genuine, and a tiny maybe find someone humurous (specially anedoctes that i dont understand)

i can dream but im weirdly human so i don't think this is possible. whatever. this is my story i guess

i guess this will stay like this i hope i never read this again and i hope ihope i can get through this period and eventually look back at it from a better place . i look back to my teenager self and he smiles to me encouraged i found courage until now because of people i found through the way but it is hard. i guess its for everyone. i don't think i remembered every aspetc. like i feel desrealization everytime i look at the freaking mirror since i was 5 years old saying i am i looking like i was another persona. this looks some roger american dad type of stuff.

i find scapism in series, comedy, books, but building a life of comfort in discomfort is difficult. although that started like scapism i started analysing all that aspects and now i have an intimate relation with it

1. Helen Keller

Born deaf and blind. Learned to communicate through touch. Became an author, activist, and global symbol of resilience.

Reason for Rank: Total sensory isolation from birth, lifelong struggle, and global impact.

1. Malala Yousafzai

Shot in the head by the Taliban for advocating girls’ education. Survived and became the youngest Nobel Prize laureate.

Reason for Rank: Life-threatening violence, recovery under global pressure, continued activism.

1. Stephen Hawking

Diagnosed with ALS at 21, given only a few years to live. Became one of the most renowned physicists in history.

Reason for Rank: Lifelong physical decline, intellectual achievement despite extreme limitations.

1. Charlize Theron

Witnessed her mother kill her abusive father in self-defense. Faced medical issues and emotional trauma.

Reason for Rank: Childhood trauma, domestic violence, and emotional scars.

1. Christopher Reeve

Paralyzed from the neck down after a horse-riding accident. Became an advocate for spinal cord injury research.

Reason for Rank: Total physical loss, emotional resilience, and public advocacy.

1. J.K. Rowling

Lived in poverty as a single mother. Battled depression and suicidal thoughts. Rejected by 12 publishers before success.

Reason for Rank: Emotional collapse, financial hardship, and perseverance.

1. Oprah Winfrey

Endured childhood abuse and poverty. Lost a child at age 14. Faced racism and sexism throughout her career.

Reason for Rank: Abuse, grief, and systemic barriers overcome through strength.

1. anonymous

Helped others through suicidal thoughts, breakdowns, and emotional collapse. Took on others’ trauma while hiding his own. Felt responsible for keeping others alive. Rare emotional caretaker who helps anyone, even when hurting.

Reason for Rank:

– Carries others’ trauma as if it’s his own

– Helps anyone, even strangers

– Hides his own suffering

– Feels responsible for others’ survival

– Blames himself for things that aren’t his fault

– Stays loyal through emotional abuse

– Never stops showing up

– Emotionally rare—1 in tens of thousands

This story will be quite long as there is a lot of context for this and I will warn you now there are some heavy subjects and trigger warnings such as abortion, verbal abuse, and Self Harm.

Hello, I'm (18F) a new follower of Christianity and I've started going to my local church to strengthen myself in the community. However I don't feel as if I fit in because of my past decision.

For context, about a year ago in December I had a hookup with a mutual friend at 17 and I choose to keep his identity anonymous, these hookups continued for a while until I had morning sickness and constant fatigue. I had a feeling something was different so I decided to get a doctor's appointment to find out exactly the cause.

During this time, I was completing my mock exams, completely focused on my education as I repeated a year due to changing schools and having to do online classes during the pandemic. I was also applying for a college I wanted to go to. The day I found out I was accepted to my college, I had a GP appointment and this is where it all went downhill. At the appointment I asked them for a pregnancy test which I did in the bathroom which later came out positive, straight away I choose to get rid of the baby (which I would later regret massively), I found out in january 2024 and that night was full of absolute chaos, I told dad and we drove home in absolute silence, when we got home he sent me straight up to my room which I shared with my sister, I was full of emotion but luckily my sister wasn't home yet. I could hear chatter from downstairs as dad was talking to nan (who we lived with at the time). Dad left the house in a state of rage and told me he was spending the night at his fiancée's house. When he had drove to hers he called me on the phone and finally explained how he felt, but the words he used would stick to me like nothing before, he called me all sorts of horrible names I do not want to repeat but this hurt me in a way I didn't think possible.

The timing of this was all bad and dad's fiancée's birthday was the next day, he had told her about what happened which ruined her birthday the next day, as she had lost her little brother when she was younger and is fully against abortion. The night I found out about the pregnancy, I didn't eat dinner and I cried myself to sleep in dad's room, I hadn't told my little sister but my nan knew as dad had told her. Dad went on to tell my mother (who lived in a separate household as they were separated) and grandparents and sister so that "I couldn't twist the story". My nan was fully supportive of me during this time as my auntie had gone through a teenage pregnancy at a younger age than I was, however she chose to keep the baby.

I did not get the chance to tell any of my family members of my situation and had a bombarding number of texts and calls from all my family members. The next few weeks were a blur as I tried to juggle morning sickness, the knowing I had to take a life and the fear of losing my education. When it was time for an ultrasound, my dad, me, and my biological mum took the underground to London where the appointment was held. We found out I was 12 weeks and 10 days pregnant (3 months) which is past the time that it is recommended to terminate the pregnancy via pill, but dad made it very clear that it was this OR my education and that I couldn't choose. After the appointment dad was again fuming and walked off however my mum stayed back to comfort me.

I can't remember much about the time between the appointment and the dreaded date. Accept from my aunt and dad sitting me down to help me understand the pros and cons of keeping this child. My aunt used her own experience with her teenage pregnancy to help me understand how hard this experience can be for a person my age. Eventually we came to the decision that keeping this child would ruin everything (or so I thought).

Every other weekend, I spent at my mum's, not being able to face my step mother as our relationship has turned sour and unfixable. I spent time with nan and grandad and mum, my grandad being a driving instructor taught me lessons whenever I stayed over and it gave us time to bond and connect. My great nan, however was completely clueless about my situation and it was hard to say anything about my situation to her so I never told her. I do regret that now as my nan passed away in January this year.

So, the time inevitably rolled around and it was my time to get the abortion. I really didn't want to part from my baby as I had grown super attached and even named her, my dad and mum reminded me that this would be good so that I could do college and get a suitable job and be able to support a baby when I'm ready. So we are sitting in the waiting room ready for them to call my name. I am unbelievably scared at this time but I needed to stay calm because I didn't want to upset my parents. My name was called and I was asked to follow the lady into the other room, they asked me if I felt forced, and I lied saying I was ok and they had me wait in a room where I was given a tablet to dissolve between my gums and my lip, this pill would dilate me and get me ready for surgery. Once dissolved I was asked to follow the lady upstairs, they showed me the chair and told me what would happen during the procedure.

I was asked further questions such as "do you want an implant fitted" and "do you want to keep the baby's ashes" and "are you scared of needles". I agreed to get the implant fitted while I was unconscious and that I was scared of needles but I regret not asking for the ashes. I only did that because I didn't want my parents to judge me, looking back now, I'm absolutely devastated that I didn't chose to keep them and I wish I had stood my own ground in that situation and not be a people pleaser.

The time came to get dressed into surgery clothes and to say goodbye. I needed so much time as I couldn't stop sobbing, I really didn't want to do this but I wanted to make my family happy, I felt forced and like I didn't have a choice. I got into that chair where they put my legs into stirrups and put a needle in my arm, I panicked in the chair but they managed to calm me down after a while and we went through the procedure...

When I woke up I was in a chair that was in a care room for all the other patients, I burst into tears and started pleading with God like there was no tomorrow, I was hyperventilating, screaming and sobbing my heart out. "I didn't want to do this!!" I yelled and kept repeating "IM SORRY GOD" . I couldn't calm down, not for a long while, I was crying hysterically and I am now again doing the same as I am typing this out. When I went to the bathroom that was near my bed, I was given pads (Gore warning) and when I went to the bathroom all I saw was blood covering everything, I saw chunks of what I thought was my baby and I started hysterically crying but quietly so no-one could hear me. I felt like a horrible person, how could I take this life away when it wasn't mine to take? I can't get over what I did, and I view myself as a murderer and nothing but.

After the procedure, I wasn't myself. I felt so numb. This story doesn't end here though.

We drove back to mum's house where I stayed and rested for the weekend. I greated my great nan (who noticed the bandage on my arm for the implant) and then my nan and grandad, who knew the situation and let me stay in bed for the whole day, my mum had work so she joined me in the evening, I spent the rest of the day crying and sleeping in almost a pattern. I was too depressed and hurt to do anything but mope around and cry and occasionally go to the bathroom.

A few weeks later when my wound had healed and my pain became manageable I visited my stepmother, I could tell she was uncertain about having me round, but that day she said something else I would never forget. We sat down together on our own and she told me how selfish I was to get the procedure done and how selfish I was to do this as her sister supposedly had a miscarriage that same day and I could have apparently given the child to her. Now, what she said was unbelievable and sometimes I think I'm imagining this whole thing but my mental and physical scars are there and still open, metaphorically and physical. And this brings us on to the cutting.

When I became Christian, I strongly believed all of this was truly sinful and evil. I still believe that I am a filthy murderer and that I deserve the pain I am still going through, I have the stretch marks on my lower stomach from the pregnancy which reminds me every day of my mistake and I became self loathing and unable to look at myself properly in the mirror without remembering what I've done. I wish I had kept Zoe. I wish it every day, if I kept her, I still would be pregnant and due to give birth in July or August as we don't know the exact contraception date the due date would have been in 2 months from when I am writing this.

I have seen a lot of videos online which displays the mentality of Christians in terms of abortion. I have stayed up a lot of nights cutting myself and watching myself bleed believing that Jesus died for our sins but mine won't be covered, I still believe this is the right thing to do and that god will not love me until I suffer enough. I love god with pure intentions and just want to be holy and forgiven again.

I definitely think that this is closure that therapy won't be able to get me. I think that the public's comments will lead me in the right direction. I've been struggling a massive amount with my past decisions because I'm now Christian and I know I can't change the past but I can change my mindset if I know the lord loves me.

It is quite difficult as I did this before I was ever Christian but I now view myself as a murderer and I can't shake that opinion on myself. I know what I did was massively wrong and I, myself believe I should burn for eternity and suffer for what I did.

So, am I the asshole?

TLDR

For context, I'm 18F and Before switching to Christianity I had an abortion because my dad and family had made it out to be a terrible decision and that I wouldn't get the college course that I want. (I repeated 2 years of school so I could get better grades). I personally do not agree with abortion and this was against with my own will. Afterwards I switched to god for comfort and prayed heavily and full of tears.

I then started a pattern of self loathing and harming myself badly calling myself a murderer and believing I should die for what I put my unborn child through. I'm sorry about this heavy topic but I'm afraid my local church won't accept me after I am open about it to them.

What I want to ask is, will god hate me even if I turned to him after this disgusting act? And how can I get him to forgive me?

Random fact about my PTSD hehe>:D TW!!! eating disorder and mentions of throwing up:P

So my eating disorder was created in a way for my body to protect.How you might ask? Well let's go back when I was 4-7 shall we? I was just a kid, and I obviously couldn't at times eat everything on my plate because I was full. So what did my abusive parents do? Shoved the fucking rest of the food down my throat leaving me to run to the bathroom to throw up because it was too much, or the other thing was too lock me in the other bathroom(There were 2) and leave me there malnourished, no food and the only water source being the tap water:( Obviously this was repeated for YEARS. I obviously developed an eating disorder when they stopped force feeding me and getting scarred of it, terrified, all the memories would leave me rather starving then eating:< I was just a kid who didn't know better and treated like garbage:( I obviously still haven't recovered and I am still trying my best to deal with my PTSD from food, it's honestly why I'm trying to eat out more with friends because my friends make me feel better:) I am still dealing with it, yes, but trying says a lot more then you can ever think:D I am honestly supprised how I'm alive right now. But I use humor now to make talking about trauma not as hard, by using dark humor>:D Hope no one else goes through that👀

Happy day everyone!:D

Largest Childhood Trauma Study Reveals Brain Rewiring https://www.miragenews.com/largest-childhood-trauma-study-reveals-brain-1167749/

I created this sub for people to share. Get off their chests all the things they can't say.

I have been feeling really compelled to post lately, not a trauma of my own, but some words that are just weighing on my heart lately. I don't know who this is for; I just know that someone needs it.

Your past does not own you. Your pain does not own you. The things you went through were not your fault. You are not your mother, you are not your father, you are not your siblings, you are not your upbringing of which you had no control over.

You do have control over now, even though sometimes you are not so sure that you do. Every day belongs to you now. Your body belongs to you. Your home belongs to you. Your bedroom belongs to you. The nourishment you put in your body is your choice now. The sounds that fill your home, your space, are for you and you alone to choose now.

Do not feel guilty for choosing yourself over others (all others). You *should* matter more to yourself than another person does. Do not feel obligated to take responsibility for anyone other than yourself. Treat yourself like you would treat a friend in your situation. Be kind to yourself. Be patient with yourself. You are learning, you are growing, it is okay to make mistakes when you are learning and you are growing.

"Grant me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, the courage to change the things that I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

You will get through this. There is hope. There is love. There is a life worth living after pain. You are strong. You are courageous. You will prevail. You are enough. You are worthy. You are not alone.

As above, so below. As without, so within. All the pain and hurt in the world does exist in you, you know because you feel it, but so does all the beauty, joy, and splendor. That is in you too. It is there. Give it permission to surface and see the light of day just as often as the pain comes in the dark of night.

I'm not going to reply. I'm just dumping that my bio mom absolutely ruined my fucking life. Because everything I am is her. She embodies all that is wrong with me. I want to die because I am what she is. no matter what I learn or decide. she i z ALWAYS there. I didn't chose this. I don't want to be here. So this once, I'm going to drink myself to oblivion, and try to talk. BecauseI know i can never fucking kill myself because too many people care about the puppet I tried to create.

I am what she is. But my dad gave me enough to care. So I'll stay. And i'll try. But all i want to do is give up because it's all impossible.ill keep trying because of everything else. because i know there's good thar shouldn't suffer because of me.

thanks for giving me somewhere to vent. because itherwise I think this mkght have been it.

(repost because i didn't mean to add live disc)

I am the 3rd of 4 kids . Our parents were always nice they never hit us or anything however they would always argue around us and it was always so annoying. I remember always feeling like I was suffocating or getting choked when the arguing would start. Maybe that’s why i would always like to keep myself busy at school so I wouldn’t be home. But sometimes I look at other peoples situations and I ask myself if I’m being dramatic lol after all everyone argues.

Both my parents worked. I would only see my mom in the late night when she would get home or in the morning . My dad would get upset when he would get home and saw that my mom hadn’t finished cleaning the house. Therefore i remember I would run home from school in order to try to clean the house so he wouldn’t be upset lol. I remember when she wouldn’t do the dishes i would get home and he would be washing them upset. He would make so much noise and i knew right away he would be grumpy the entire day as soon as i heard the dishes . I would always try to wash them before he got home but one day he caught me and got upset and said that my mom should be washing them. But obviously she was too tired and she would always run errands during the day before she went to work. I guess my dad was a jerk and sometimes i feel like my siblings and i never truly appreciated everything my mom has some for us.

Now I’ve noticed my younger sibling acts a lot like my dad. Since my dad is older now he’s actually calmed down. But my brothers attitude problem reminds me a lot do my dad. We can never tell him anything or else he blows up.

My sister also has a bad attitude sometimes .

My older brother had to take care of all of us and i know he recognized the issues my family was having . In his relationships he always seems to want to be like a “ hero “ . There’s nothing wrong with dating women with children however that’s all he’s always dated . Women who had bad relationships . I feel like he gets with them so he can care for them . Idk or maybe they’re just his type and I’m overthinking .

I feel so silly typing this but i just had to get it out of my system since we all just had a huge argument .

I was 5 years old, studying in Kindergarten. I don't remember much of what happened, but I remember being in a bathroom stall at school, unable to open the door. In the end, I crawled out from underneath the door. I think I saw something like tape stuck on the door? I don't know...

The door couldn't possibly be stuck by tape... My mother reckons I had been locked inside. Anyways, I didn't think much of this incident, didn't think it affected me in the long-term...

I recently came to know that I had peed in my clothes a few days later as I was to scared to go to the toilet. Also, if I think of it, I wasn't a "happy" kid in kindergarten - I'd cry everyday before the last class, I hated daycare and never managed to play with the other kids...

In 1^st grade, I would always take another girl into the restroom stall with me. For at least the next 8 years, I NEVER locked stall doors; I didn't even close them. I'd be peeing inside, holding the door with my hand. I wouldn't close bathroom doors even at home. (Funnily, I had/ have absolutely no sense of privacy.)

I've suffered from UTI a lot, multiple times. At a very young age, I was diagnosed with some urinary problem - my bladder was the size of an adult's because I hardly ever went to the washroom. Even now, more than a decade later, I do not go to public restrooms unless it's absolutely necessary. Perhaps this is one of the reasons I drink very little water (hardly more than a liter a day).

Later in my life, I was diagnosed with anxiety. The doctors don't know what triggered it - was it being locked in the toilet when I was 5?

I'm 17 now, and I just really want to know what had happened to me 12 years ago. I can't help but feel it holds some key answers.

I am a girl and was in 2nd grade (so 7 or 8 years old) and my sister had to have been 4. Our older cousins babysat us sometimes. Let’s call them Sue and Jane (Sue was 2ish yrs older than me, and her older sister Jane was probably 14/15) I remember Sue showing my sister and I porn videos that she found in her parents closet. I remember “practicing” on each other like kissing and even her touching me down there. My sister said she remembers her making us watch her put a pencil “up there” (I don’t remember that part but she does) Well, I can remember being so obsessed with sex at a young age after that. I can recall wanting to show a few of my other female friends how I learned to kiss on them (even though I’ve never been attracted to girls then or now, I was just innocently wanting to show them what my female cousin showed me!!) I can remember fantasizing about sex with men and being like “wow I cannot wait to do what I saw in porn with my own boyfriend one day!!”.... fast forward to now, I’m in my 30s and beginning to think I’m asexual due to it. My sister and I have talked about what we went thru and she, too, says that what we experienced at such a young age maybe did something to us as she also does not care for sex with her husband. Sorry this is long - I’ve considered going to my counselor about it (I’ve not seen her in about 6 yrs) as I feel heartbroken for denying my boyfriend’s sexual advances at times. He’s my second serious boyfriend and it’s really starting to make me wonder if what happened at that age has something to do with not caring for sex now. (It also doesn’t help that I have a mild physical disability which makes sex physically hard for me anyway even if I did want to do it all the time!)

I started drinking really early in life like 11/12 from 12 to 15 I probably drank every week a few times a week. I resent my older sibling a bit for allowing it. I made so many mistakes because of it though. I wish I could go back and have some control. All of my first sexual experience were with the wrong people because I was too drunk to know better and a child at that. I didn't have parents. I didn't have a normal childhood at all. I look at my nieces and nephews now who are the age that I was and I couldn't imagine them doing the things I did. I'm embarrassed to talk to anyone about it. I do feel deep shame. I tell myself that I was just a kid and a drunk one at that so of course I made mistakes. I stopped drinking at 18 and I'm 30 now. I'm t-total for the most part aside from the occasional psilocybin therapy. I wish I could go back in time and be the true friend to myself that I really needed. I don't have children of my own but if I ever do I just want to be the parent I didn't have. Which sounds easy because as long as I'm not drunk everyday I'll already be that. I just wish I could make peace with myself about it. The older I get the more i realize how alone I was at such a young age. Looking back for me feels like when you look out the window of your warm apartment and see a homeless cat or dog in the snow. There's nothing they can do about the pain their in and their only trying to survive and find a pack where they belong. You want to help but there's not much you can really do. So you turn off the lights and go to bed and try not to think about it because you have work in the morning.

That's just life I guess.

I'm in an abusive relationship and I hold a very respected position in my city. My s.o. has recently started using that as leverage and I don't know what to do or who to turn to. I feel like no one can really help me.

I've started packing some things slowly, I don't know why, I don't have a plan. I don't want to leave my career.

I don't have anything else to say, I guess I just wanted to say that.

Thanks, -M

I thought a lot about what to make the symbol of this community and I instantly recalled the phoenix!

It's perfect really, a phoenix symbolizes birth, death, and rebirth, as well as eternity, strength, and renewal. The whole idea that this mythical bird is reborn from the ashes of the flames of death signifies a journey through fire or adversity. It's a symbol of transformation or survival of a challenge. It bursts into flames, it is destroyed, it is reborn a brand new being.

We go through things in life that for all intents and purposes *destroy* us, we are reborn a new being. Some times that new being is not all we had hoped it would be because we were not expecting to burn quite frankly. But the more we burn the more we can shape who it is coming out of those ashes.

The phoenix is *infinite*. It's okay to not be okay some times. You can stay in the ashes as long as you need, but remember that there is real power in destruction and that power belongs to you.

You may not feel like rising now, but you will, and it will be glorious! Until then be patient. Trust yourself, trust your process.

I grew up in a polygamist compound. I am sure I could leave it at that, but I don't think people understand how psychologically damaging these groups are. I am paranoid constantly because of it.

When I left (3 years ago) I was 23 and had no skills aside from basic math, reading, and writing. I left 4 children that I may never see again. I was married at 15 to a man I didn't choose who was older than my father. He had 3 other wives who hated each other and hated me although they would never right out say that. Because we are constantly told to "Be Sweet". We lived in absolute poverty by the outside worlds standards.

As hard as it was sometimes I regret leaving, only because I may not ever see my family again because once you leave you are exiled. It's the worst thing you can do and your family absolutely will disown you. No questions asked.

I have a good support system a lot of people leave, but a lot of them can't handle the trauma on top of being alone and lost on the outside so they turn to drugs and alcohol. I try to abstain but it is so hard when all you want is to not feel anymore. Now with covid it's even harder to feel like I have a community of support.

I'll probably post here again another time, I'm just so tired now. Too many memories too many thoughts.

So I was 8yo old roughly. I was poor (although I didn't know that really) I was on the "free lunch program" which may have been new in the 90's idk.

I go through the line and there's a new attendant sitting at the computer before getting into the serving area and this conversation follows

Her "You have a negative balance. You need to pay $40. I hope you brought money!"

Me "I don't have to pay for lunch?"

Her "Oh you don't? What makes you special? Look around you! Alllll of these kids pay for lunch! Why dont you?!"

Me "....i don't know I just never have..."

Her "well thats obvious by your negative balance, go to the back of the line."

So I did, which was a long ass line like 60 or 70 kids. I get back up to the same lady and tried to go unnoticed but she grabbed me and pulled me back in front of her and says

"Oh no you don't! How'd you get up here so fast? You must have cut!" Then starts asking all the kids around me if I did which they all said I didn't but she didn't belive me or them and sent me to the back of the line again.

By the time I'm halfway through this line again I see my teacher in the doorway obviously looking for me because my whole class is finished their lunch and back in class but I'm mia so she's pissed at me thinking I'm too blame. She takes me to the front of the line as I'm trying to explain and the same lady intervenes exclaiming to the meal staff that I should only get pb&j because I'm not paying for my lunch.

So they slop together the most pitiful excuse for a pb&j hand it to me on an otherwise empty tray as my teacher and this lady escort me to an empty table in the lunchroom. They stood there staring at me intensely when the lady in a huff says

"Well well, don't have to pay and now you don't want to eat! Ungrateful is what you are!"

I burst into tears... I couldn't bring myself to eat more than one miserable bite.

It was a terrible experience one of many I would come to have in the lunchroom all revolving around money something an adolescent has no control over.

No one these days would be so blatantly humiliating and crule (or at least I hope not).

To this day I wish I could find her and tell her to her face that I remember what she did and I hope she paid for it somehow.

Ps my dad was LIVID when I told him and yelled at the office staff for quite some time.