So this is my first ever post out into the deep dark internet, but there's an issue I'm my life and my relationship that I honestly don't feel I can talk to about with anyone, like not him.. none of my friends.. so here I am turning to complete strangers.

So me and my boyfriend have been together 6 months now, we met on tinder and we hit it off like a house on fire straight away! He is one of the best people I have ever met, I'm super attracted to him and he actually wants to spend all his time with me which is more than I can say for any of my exes and we have had a great relationship thus far, except for one thing... So I have felt increasingly upset about this as time has gone on, like when we first got together we were exploring each other emotionally and also sexually, and with him being 9 years older than myself, he had a lot more sexual experience than me and he has introduced me to some new areas such an anal and general bum play which I have loved! So the first bit of our relationship, sexually this has been amazing.. but over the last couple of months he has become more tired and less interested in having sex with me, he has never been one to kiss me lots but again in the last couple of months this has diminished into giving me a peck in the morning before he goes to work.. and unless we are actually having sex, I don't get kisses off him.. he doesn't ever just snog me, and this hurts. Whenever I talk to him about it I just get 'I'm not a lovey dovey kind of person' or 'I'm not a snoggy type of person' which is ok, well its not ok.. because from where I'm standing I literally just crave so much more! Since loosing 6-7 stone over the past year I feel my sex drive has sky rocketed and I find myself wanting sex all the time, whenever I'm with him I just want to ###$ him and him do bad things to me, and when I'm alone.. I touch myself. When I'm alone and when I'm not busy I am constantly masturbating, I make myself cum sometimes 3-4 times a day when I have that chance. And so when I'm with this man who makes me so happy and who I am sexually attracted to immensely, I just want him.. and I feel that he doesn't want me as hard as I want him. When we get into bed and he makes his excuses, bats my hand away from him and tells me he's tired, I cant help but feel gutted.. I feel deflated, it kills me inside and I have to pretend like its okay and roll over and go to sleep when in fact I'm so hurt. Now, please understand when I say we do have quite regular sex, sometimes we can go a few times in a day, but on average I would say about 4 times a week.. sometimes a lot more? Now, this is where I think I have a slight addiction.. because it doesn't seem to be enough, I want to feel that intimacy so much more, maybe its because I don't get the little kisses throughout the day or even that passionate snog in the car before we go for dinner.. He is not the romantic type and unfortunately this massively shows, he never tells me I'm beautiful or says romantic things to me, or does anything romantic, and well 6 months in and he hasn't told me he loves me. I understand people go at different paces but due to this, I'm left wanting more.. and I'm having wondering thoughts, I'm lusting after anyone at the moment and I hate myself because actually the one person I want the absolute most is my boyfriend. I have tried talking to him, and I just don't seem to get anywhere.. He doesn't have much to say and just comes back with the normal 'I'm just not the romantic type' and 'I'm just so tired from work'. I feel like he isn't fully into me? Only apart from the fact he actually wants to see me all the time and literally does anything for me, he looks after me and makes me feel safe, and happy.. But where is my romance? I am a woman, with an incredibly high sex drive who just wants my man to have sex with me all the time and tell me I'm ######6 beautiful!

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 !

From what I have been told, I was talking and walking by 9 months old. Perhaps it is an exaggeration, but I can attest to the ease I have experienced in school, with dealing with problems, and assessing the “right” behavior in situations.

I have had one imaginary friend, from what I can remember, since I was about two years old. I remember when he first knocked on the door, a back door with a mud room in my house, and I let him in. I would tease my Dad that he was my boy friend. He kept me wonderful company and was an enlightening, safe harbor. I remember another time when someone entered through this same door. I remember that I was handed a stuffed animal by this man, but I cannot recall any more.

When I was seven, I remember feeling sure that I could survive on my own, if only my parents would let me alone. In kindergarten, I could read chapter books and would forge my mother’s signature on the homework list each week. I remember wanting the independence from my mother to moderate my own life.

My favorite thing to do at that time was read. I had a children’s encyclopedia and learned about sexual reproduction in this fashion. I discovered an obsession with looking at Michael Angelo’s “David” sculpture. I would sit and look at it for different durations each day.

Between seven and nine, my parents split up (though, I had suspected it for over a year). At this time I began having very sexual, very vivid dreams. One dream I remember was of my self in a hotel room, seducing a much older, ugly man. I believe between six and seven I was sexually abused again, by the same close friend of my family that had been in my life much earlier, and that I had let into my home through the mud room door. I cannot remember it happening, but I have returned to a certain event when I remember I was alone with this person, and there are blank spots in my memory.

I started touching my self with my dolls or stuffed animals around this time, I don’t really understand why. I would “tell” my sister’s fortune by looking into my crystal ball. Around the same time I stopped feeling normal. When I saw myself in the mirror, I felt an intense, unnatural feeling. It was almost disgust. It increased when I had on feminine clothing. I still feel it, sometimes seemingly random and sometimes by noticeable triggers, to this day.

When I was nine, I realized that my father was not scary. I saw that he would raise his voice to intimidate me- and, I saw that it was just that- and that I was capable of it too. This led me to a strange relationship with aggression. I began to “dominate” my siblings, feel an anger that was confusing and overwhelming. I felt as if something in me was red fire hot, and I had no control over it, nor the ability to stop it, nor the knowledge of how it started. I felt like a victim while I victimized other people. And still, though less frequently and with more control to mask it, I have this sensation of being a puppet. At this time I also began trying to study witch craft and wanted to be a vampire. I would mediate and attempt to make spells.

By the time I was eleven, I was not only participating in on-line sex and wishing to be kissed by a boy at school, but I was finding attendance at school more difficult, as well as having increased bouts with anxiety and depression. This only worsened as I got older. And by fourteen, I was full blown suicidal. My parents attempted to get me help, but the doctors, therapists, teachers, and medication were so easily manipulated that no one could touch me.

I would get into these crazed, raging fits of frustration and aggression. I would yell, scream, shake, cry, weep, sob; I was frightening. I started “cutting” which was mostly scratching. I started messing around with older guys. I started lying and going out and trying to drink/party as much as possible. When my father would have a chance to sit and talk to me, he would try to hug me, but I would yell insults until he would give up. I remember ...

[ Continued ]

Ok, so I'm pretty sure there is something wrong with me. I have had this feeling toward my stepmother since I could remember. Like a desire. I know it's wrong, it's not right because she is married to my father and she is my stepmother. My father cheated on her and I just wanted to tell her so bad how I felt about her, and how much she deserved better but they got back together. My father married her without telling her he had a vasectomy. And all these years later she really wants a kid, I wish I could help her have a kid...
I am 21 years old, and I moved back into their house about a year ago because my roommate moved out of state and left the bills all on me. I go into their room sometimes when they go to work and I smell her freshly worn panties, and masturbate to them. I found a box of her toys(dildos) and I masturbated to them and licked them. I also found their sex tape and watched it so I could see what she looks like naked. Sometimes when my dad leaves to go to work, I hear her getting into the shower and I fantasize going in there and joining her, or going into the room and waiting on her to get out.
I have control enough to never do anything to crazy, but what should I do? Should I just get help, or tell her what I have done/ how I feel, or nothing? Please don't comment how sick I am, and how I need to find god.. I know I am sick, I just can't control myself sometimes.

My friend absolutely terrifies me. He has never done anything violent or harmful to me and is the most gentle and peaceful person I know (Though he is quite distant). He is also the most dangerous person I know. He usually has a calming air about him. It's calming to the point where he picked a bee off a flower and held it in his open palm for who knows how long before he sent it back on the flower without it stinging him. However, his air about him changes to absolute dread when he gets aggressive. This dread caused a dog to whimper and hide just by being near him. A moment to feel this dread is to ask him about his past.

My friend has a rather dark past. He had drug addict, alcoholic, and sick parents for the first three years of his life who were constantly fighting. He also was being watched by his legally crazy grandparents who were also drug addict alcoholics. He saw his mother brutally die in front of him from a car accident he was in. His father legally died then came back into a coma. He was physically, emotionally, and psychologically abused. He was raped. He was constantly being bullied at school and at home by his cousins. He hasn't seen his sister for ten years. He almost died countless times. He was also taken away from his father by the CPS. I was his first friend ever, and that was in the 5th grade (He was held back one year). I am still one of his only friends. The bullying never really stopped, it's just that everyone was to scared to.

As I said before, he is the best person I have ever met. However, he becomes a monster when aggressive. During these moments, he is not angry in any way. He is actually very happy when he is aggressive. I have seen him do some monster like things when he is like that. Ranging from will his way through a sleep hold to overpowering four football players. A note to take is how he is a 5' 5" 135 lbs slender-athletic build guy who isn't very bulky despite his martial art training, but he is stronger than he looks and is very resilient. When he becomes aggressive, his entire being changes. His eyes become empty and have a death stare, his body language becomes feral and relaxed, He gets a joker like smile and tries to keep himself from giggling and almost growls, the air around him becomes full of dread, and his already efficient and dangerous fighting style becomes even more efficient and dangerous. When he is in a fight, killing an insect, or gutting a hunted animal he laughs harder and smiles harder. He clearly enjoys being hit or hurting things when he is in that state. He also doesn't feel any physical pain in that state. After he snaps back to normal, he bursts into a crying mess, and will often vanish when we all check to see if the guy he was fighting is okay.

When he is normal, he has noble body language, a gentle look on his face, and love in his eyes. He will try to never harm anything and will resolve anything peacefully. He also genuinely cares about his few friends and gives amazing advise and can console anyone.

My friend has gone to therapy, but the fact he couldn't remember what he did in the aggressive moment, the therapy didn't help him know what was wrong with him. He also went to anger management, but he apparently has an outstanding control over his anger. We both wonder what is wrong with him, and I am absolutely terrified of him even when he isn't in his aggressive state.