I'm 20 and during school break one night decided to masturbate to some porn , and I came across this video and the pornstar looked alot like my mom , the actress had the same hair style my mom always wears and the pornstar was giving oral i like watching oral but she looked to much like my mom so I fast forward to where the porn star is riding the male pornstar and this reminded me of when I was a kid and my mom and her boyfriend would lock themselves in a room for hours and I thought to my self when I was masturbating that this is probably what they were doing , so I imagined the porn stars doing it in the room and this turned me on, but then I thought that it was gross cause that's what my mom and her boyfriend were doing , so I focused more on the porn star lady cause I just wanted to finish and go to bed , but now I feel like I jacked off to my mom and her boyfriend because It did arouse me a little but I tried finishing to the porn star , I feel sick , I hate that it turned me and that I didn't stop masturbating , I feel horrible , I was never attracted to my mom and I mastorbated that day because I was horny not cause I wanted to jack off to my mom but that video ****** it up , now I feel ashamed , this is serious , please HELP!

Plz help me. i'm very much confused about my sextual identity.
i have a strong attraction for boys. i watch gay porn movies. had sex with some guys also before marriage. i though every thing will be ok after marriage but thats not the case. i dont really like to spend time with my wife. and i still have strong feelings and attraction for boys. i dont know am i gay?
i enjoy when i spend time with a boy while having sex. but after that i regret for what i did. help me please what should i do.

I have always heard that when being accused of something (that you aren't and haven't done,) it's more than likely because your accuser is guilty of such. I'm certain this doesn't apply to every situation, but realistically, how often does this actually happen to you?

Based upon my husband's past experiences with a wife that cheated, drank, and drugged herself into a stupor, I understand his skepticism. I however, do not do anything at all similar, don't look similar, don't act or speak similarly. We are not the same. I am his second wife.

For the past year, it has turned into him yelling, screaming "shut your f***ing mouth" "listen to me when i speak to you" "you will respect me," and things of that nature. He tells me not to talk over him, not interrupt him, and then when I ask for a moment of his time, he cuts me off and uses his hands as a "stop" gesture to end what I have to say. In all honesty, I do not feel as though my husband respects me, or cares at all about the things I say. I am a very brutally honest and blunt, and some would say pessimistic person. I believe I just know better how to prepare for situations, and expect others to disappoint me, so I work things our in such a way that I do not get disappointed. I look at life with a very real sense of what can and cannot be accomplished in a given amount of time. I am very time-oriented.
My husband tells me that I assume to much. An example:
I tell him one thing in the A.M., he forgets by lunch 5 days in a row, and tells me that he forgot every evening. I tell him the same message on the 6th day, he gets bent out of shape because "I assumed he would forget and now I am nagging." I personally do not find that nagging or assuming. It is using deductive reasoning or taking what was learned from first-hand experiences, and applying it to the situation. This is something that happens every week.

He accuses me of being childish, immature, and needing to grow the f*** up.
I do not raise my voice at him. I am the mother of his child. I keep the house running. I am overseer of all of the financials. I went to college. I make more money than him. I have two college degrees. I am a female in a predominately male professional trade, decisive, direct, and dedicated. I have more real-world experience than he does. I am literal. To the point. Callous, if you will. I do not mince words. I say exactly what the situation calls for, and I use the correct vernacular for emotions and feelings. I had to grow up fast, and by whatever means necessary, while he grew up in the same house all his life, was the youngest of three children with a stay at home mother, and overly religious upbringing, had no responsibilities, and never been told no. I do not play games. He says I do. He is the one that plays games, blatantly ignoring repeated phone calls and going out of his way to make me feel inadequate.

Really, that's just two examples..but just this morning we had the biggest blow-up of our relationship because I asked for clarification on what he meant by a statement, and it turned into very seriously hurtful words and screaming.

Any advice, folks?

Only read this post if you didn’t read my other one. This is a shorter version of it. Help me, please! I at least need some kind of comfort or advice, or someone to understand my problem! Ever since I was a baby, I’ve had these weird delusional obsessions. I only talked to myself in my imagination and never really had any contact with the outside world. I called it “non-exposure” and I never exposed anything. It always had to do with cartoons. Just cartoon characters- I was so obsessed with them, and they filled my brain for my entire life- I am not kidding. Every day, 24/7, I would try and picture them in my mind, either trying to picture these kids dressed up as their favorite ones, or just thinking about my favorite ones dating other characters. I was not only obsessed with them, but I was attracted to a lot of them as well. This went on from elementary school to middle school, to high school. I’m 16 years old in my junior year now. I couldn’t stop. It was the only thing that made me happy. I never told anyone about it because I never thought it would be a problem until now- I always thought of it as just a hobby that I liked to do. But now I know it was a waste of time. Now that I’m a junior, I’m supposed to be focusing on college and even more work. But because I lived inside my imagination for such a long time, I suffer consequences now. I’m not able to do the things I used to do. I can’t read, I can’t even focus on real life without zoning out. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t tell anybody- not my mom because she would be devastated, and not anyone else because they would just think I’m weird, and they would be upset, too. I can’t picture anything else in my mind besides these cartoons, and what I see on TV. I’ll never know what it’s like to be an actual person, living a normal human life. I can’t stare straight forward without zoning out, getting dizzy, or getting tired. I hate what I did to my life. I think school lessons are interesting, but they’re hard for me now! I try to focus on school but find it hard to do my work. I could have been a great person. But now I have no skills, and I can’t do anything. I don’t think I can function in this world. I don't think I'll be able to graduate high school, or function in college. I am not an attention whore, but I really want somebody to comment on this soon, because I am lonely and need at least some kind of company...

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 ...

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