First of all I would like to apologize because this is going to be really long so I would like to say I really appreciate you reading this till the end and trying to help.

Since november I have been having flashbacks and thoughts of everything I have done wrong in my life, and now that I think about it those things are absolutely horrible.

To start with typical things normal people would have heard of before, I've done things like cheating on boyfriends, lying to parents, sneaking out etc... I lost my virginity at 15 years old with a 21 year old guy and also had sex with a 28 year old who lied to me about his age, which disgusts me when I thought about it.

Now more weird things, as a kid, I would always lie. I would like about everything. I would lie about having cancer, about having relationships with celebrities ( I would even make fake accounts and catfish people) , about being anorexic, i even catfished a real person in real life to show people and pretend he was flirting with me. I lied about having a brother that died, about people I knew, places I went to etc... I don't know why, can anyone help me figure out why I would like so much?

Now the darkest part is sexual. As a child I remember making my dog eat me out. Of course at that time I didn't really know what i was doing but now i see it's bestiality and I can't get over what I did. Likewise, I've been recalling sexual games I would play as a kid which really mess with my mind. I remember licking my cousins' vagina because she said she wanted me to. I also remenber pretending to be asleep while my cousins and sisters licked my breasts because I liked the feeling of it. Is this sexual abuse? Also, I remember once i asked my sister to touch me down there and my dad walked in the room before she did and stopped us. I don't know what to do about this because everytime I see my sister all i think about is if i sexually abused her and why I would do something like that with her.

So when recalling all those wrong things I have been really bad anxiety since and I'm not too sure what's happening. Along with his comes thoughts I don't want to have that I just can't stop. I keep on thinking in my head that I have been raped and my body feels so unsafe even though I know it isnt true, the feeling is still there. I get thoughts about harming people and myself all of the time, I get thoughts about violence and sexual stuff, and i don't know why. I have read online that this might be OCD which could make sense as I recall having weird 'if i don't do this then this will happen" things as a child. For example:

" If i don't run down the corridor in less than 10 seconds then my mum will die in the future"

a lot of games like that in my head that I see now might have been the start of this.

I just do not understand at all what is going on in my head right now and why these thoughts don't stop. I can't figure out if i have been raped or if it's my imagination playing with me because i have no memory and i have been to the extent of asking family members who said no and gave me support. I can't figure out why i started thinking about all my mistakes all of a sudden. Please help me figure out whats happening?

So 2 weeks have gone by already. The 12 induction days are now over, what a relief ! I can still remember how I was living this, how days went by so slowly, with those 2 ‘girls’, those 2 bi*ches ‘rendering ‘ my life hell. Today, while we were on our meth doctor’s rendez-vous or consultation, one of my ex-induction friends (i accept to employ the word ‘friend’ here, how kind of me!) was talking over to me and that conversation TOOK ME BACK TO THE DAYS! Yes, back to the 12 induction days when we were all together, ha! To cut this story short (since I’m not writing about this today, some other day maybe…), I’m just glad I made it out! I imagined two more days with these animals in that cacophonic jukebox, that cacophonic cage, and I would have hung myself out dry, shyiiit. Believe it or not, I even made a rope out of my blanket, ready to be used… “Anytime!” I mumbled, without even shedding a tear, not even afraid of dying, well it was just for a few minutes, since that feeling quickly got out of me.

So today, when I went over to my meth doctor on consultation, the latter asked me if all’s well, if I didn’t get any side effects from my methadone or if I encountered any craving during my first week out and if I’m happy with my current meth dose. Well I told him the truth, nothing but the plain truth: every morning, I would wake up with my yawnings and running nose well, not as much as the time when I was addicted to heroin like back in the days LOL, but I’m not supposed to get any of this, not even an inch of all this ! My body was not on top mode, which is true as compared to the days when I was on induction. Even if I didn’t sleep at that time, my bosy was not as torn as it is now; we had less physical activities, less thinking to do and most of all, no stress at all, no phone ringing, no email to check, no meeting, nothing! As on my current life situation, when all’s back on other than the heroin cravings gone, I would have to, for instance, assist my parents in cleaning their yards, yes yards with an ‘s’. The truth? Well, I prefer to stay at work premises rather than spend a day home when my parents are at home as well since there would always be somewhere to go, something to do, no rest at all. And the days where we have nothing to do (meaning no cleaning or house chores), well, we would spend the days at the beach swimming and running on the beach. And I’d be all cranked up the next day at work, body all messed up, cramps, etc…

So I told all this to my meth doc and the latter just thought that was gibberish, from what I could conclude. The first thing he would mention was that I didn’t do as much physical efforts in an office, forgetting the fact that office is a part of my life. He said he would raise my daily meth dose but the question remains, since he didn’t write anything in front of me, and that’s quite discouraging.

Because then, the devil would lurk around me and maybe at a later stage, push me back on the streets who knows?? I know very well that a higher meth dose (maybe a 5ml raise might do to start with) is not recommended. Is it not better to be on a relatively higher meth dose than to hit back the streets ?

Think about it !

Quotes from an interview with psychoanalyst and writer, Adam Phillips:

"I'm not on the side of frustration exactly, so much as the idea that one has to be able to bear frustration in order for satisfaction to be realistic. I'm interested in how the culture of consumer capitalism depends on the idea that we can't bear frustration, so that every time we feel a bit restless or bored or irritable, we eat, say, or we shop.

"It's only in an initial state of privation that you can begin to have thoughts about what it is you might want, to really imagine or picture it. It's very difficult to know what we're frustrated by. In making the case for frustration I want to make it more interesting, such that people can talk or think about it in different ways."

For him, psychoanalysis is a set of stories that we tell ourselves and each other, a way of redescribing our experiences. "To begin with, one needs to understand," he says, "but I think the final project is to relieve oneself of the need for self-knowledge. It's not that it's useless – in some areas of life it's very useful – but there are lots of areas in which it isn't, and in some areas it's actually pre-emptive and defensive, and this is where psychoanalysis potentially fails people, by assuming there is an infinite project and that the best thing you can do in life is to know yourself. Well, I don't think that's true."

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jun/01/adam-phillips-life-in-writing


"I believe in what you see being most of what there is… and that life's passed on to us empty. So, while significance weighs heavy, that's the most it does. Hidden meaning is all but absent."
:: Richard Ford (from the novel 'Canada'.)

Until recently, I never viewed my introversion as much of problem. I was told at work that I "need to be more social". This really struck a cord with me because I never thought that as I began my adult life my introversion may limit my success . So I decided to start this blog and chronicle my journey of becoming 'more social'.

Why are you so quiet? He must me hiding something...

Now this is easier said than done of course. My whole life people have been telling me, 'you're so quiet', 'you should talk more' or my new favorite 'be more social'. It's gotten to the point where some people feel uncomfortable around me because I'm so quiet. What is it that makes them so uncomfortable? Is it that my behavior or lack there of, is so unusual they just can't stand it? Is it that I'm some psycho who's going to snap at any moment? Is it the natural human tendency to be afraid of someone who's not like you? Not my problem right? They should be more understanding. Well unfortunately in a world of extroverts it is my problem. As much as I would love to live in a world where everyone accepts each other the way they are, that's just not reality. It's an extroverts world and if I'm going to thrive and not just survive, I've got to get to work and figure something out. So I'm going to be more 'social'. I'm not sure what that will look like, but in the following months, if not years, I will try and look deeper into the complex relationship that introverts and extroverts have and attempt different strategies for becoming more 'social'.

Why is it that quiet people make others feel uncomfortable?

Please share your thoughts.

----Every new day can change one's life; Every new experience can deepen the realm within ones world. These notions run parallel, to the story of Johnny and The Cupcake Girl----

(Character Background. If looking for eroticism, skip to next chapters.)

Prelude: Aromatic Cupcakes

The sun was beaming through the cracks of the curtains - Johnny woke up, always curious as to what the day would entail. Getting ready for work at the store was a very systematic process for him. Every slight movement, down to the way he dried off his vascular body after a steaming shower, was replicated with exact precision.

Coffee and cigarettes. The fix of the morning, yet today they seemed ever so weak. Bitter sensations on the tongue - Johnny needing something new.. Something sweet.

His inner world was intense. Always maneuvering, always watching - ever changing. Those simpletons who he sped by on the inter-state know no sensation similar to the ones concocted by Johnny's dis-inhibited mind.

Many are curious, but few truly venture. Today was the day, like so many before, that one curious, light-hearted being, would accept any contingencies within coffee shop: The Cupcake Girl. After all, what was life for the young girl without knowledge of the unknown? She was so full of life, full of energy, but being virgin to many experience which she knew exist, felt like a ghost on a winding path.. She was so confused about the world.. People and their intentions.. What she wanted.. What she stood for.. The Cupcake Girl needed something stable - Something definite. Something, to hold on to.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the labyrinth, The Cupcake Girl took the leap of faith that was so intrinsic to her nature, and necessary to develop her ever curious mind regarding that of which she had no experience.

Her name was Pricilla. And she smelled exactly like she looked.