Hi, this will be my first post on here and I really need some advice or help and I’m beyond desperate. My mother is a shoplifter, and I’m only a teenager and I’m the only one in the family that knows and I’m scared to go anywhere with her because I know she will steal items.

So basically since before I can remember, my Mom would steal things. Mainly it was groceries (she would get plastic reusable bags and bag everything up in an empty aisle and walk out looking like she payed) and I remember watching her do this when I was around 5 and not realizing it was stealing. I didn’t realize until i was around 7. She wouldn’t just steal groceries tho, she would steal perfume, lotion, makeup, shoes and other goods. This is where it gets a bit complicated, after doing this for years, she got caught around 2years ago and was put on house arrest, I am the only person who knows that she has ever shoplifted/ that she was on House Arrest. At the time, she told me she had a disorder and was going to seek treatment, but she never did. After she attempted a fake 2 minute apology for years of emotional distress, I sort of forgave her. I know it seems impossible but deep down inside, i wanted to believe that she just made a mistake and that everything was going to stop. And for a little bit, it did. I didn’t really see her take anything and I thought she was better, until she started again. One day we were at the store and I saw some stuff she stuffed into her purse and I couldn’t take it and ran out of the store into the car. She then came into the car after finishing shopping, and flipped out. She kept on pressing me to tell her what made we leave and sorta came off scary when she began listing off random reasons I ran out, (Did you see your crush? Did something happen on Instagram? Etc) then she got this overly confused (and sort of scary) exaggerated face and went, “is it because of ME?” I just kept on saying no to everything she said cause I didn’t know what else to say. Things have just gotten worst from there, one time I was in the store with her (cause she manipulated me to go with her I didn’t want to) and I was walking behind her and she started getting REALLY mad at me for no reason. She said “stop stalking me you weirdo” and “go find this random thing, NOW”. I just walked a few feet away and I kept my eye on her and she went into an empty aisle and shoved some stuff into her purse. When we were waking out the alarm thing went off and my heart sank but nothing happened, we just kept walking and no one realized. In the past months or so she has appeared with new makeup and luxury soap and lotion and all this crap, and she has come home with groceries in reusable bags, meaning she stole it. Recently she noticed I was getting extremely distant from her (and I think rightfully so),and we had “a talk”. after prying for ever, I told her it was because of her taking stuff and she took a FIRM position that she hasn’t taken anything since she was on House Arrest and that she only stole stuff in the first place because she was “desperate” and didn’t have money, however that’s a straight lie. We aren’t by any means super well off, but when she started stealing my Dad had a great job and we were going on vacations to Disneyland, Las Vegas and California. Not to mention my grandparents are relatively well off and would help us out if we really were that “desperate”. Anyways, she started pathetically crying SWEARING she hadn’t done anything, but I know for a fact she has. That night I went to a friends house and she sent me an angry text saying I was going to start showing her respect “and stop treating her like a thief” BUT SHE IS ONE. Now, we are in an awkward position, and it’s extremely complicated because she’s my mom and I want to love her and sometimes we get along sort of (it sounds crazy I know) but I’m starting to come to a breaking point. Thank you so much if you’ve read all of this.
I’m currently crying while typing this, it probably ...

[ Continued ]

I am so thankful I found this site, I've been needing to get this out. This is a secret that both me and my father will take to our graves.
I never knew my real father until I was about 12 years old. I met him for the first time and he was a fairly attractive man. We grew a decent friendship and learned that I was just like him in many ways. As I got older I noticed he would get flirty with me, and instead of a normal father-like hug.. I would get a hug and a long kiss on the neck. I never minded though.

He was a truck driver, he went on 2 week trips at a time, then a week off. I was 18 years old when he invited me to go with him for a trip, and I agreed.. I was excited because I never got to travel much. His semi had bunk beds, but I would always lay in the bottom bed with him for a while after he parked for the night. On the 4th day I asked him to rub my back, so he did.. he then told me its been so long sinse he's felt a womans body like this that it was effecting him in a certain way, hearing him say that, did the same thing to me. All I could do was smile at him, and he kissed me passionately then kissed my neck and chest. I knew it was so, so wrong.. but it didn't feel that way, it felt so good and I didn't want him to stop. And he didn't.

What happened on that trip was my body's desires taking over, maybe if I had self control I could have stopped it from happening.. I fell into a deep depression after I returned home because of the shame and disgust I felt towards myself. I blamed my father, I went months without speaking to him. I wish I never even met him. But a few more months past and suddenly I felt lonely, I got ahold of my father again.. we started to talk, we apologized to eachother and everything was fine again.

It didn't take long till the memories of our trip started to creep back into my thoughts, but this time it didn't upset me, it made me want him again. I lusted for him, I needed to feel that love again.. So I went to stay him on his week off, we shared his bed. It was amazing just like the first time.. but afterwards I went back home and became angry and depressed again. When my period was 2 weeks late I took a pregnancy test, I was so scared to look.. but it was true, it was positive. When I told my father he asked me to abort, but I told him no.


My baby girl is now 2 1/2 months old. She is perfect, healthy and so beautiful. She has dad's bright blue eyes. Mama's nose, lips and chin, and our dark hair. I got so lucky that she looks mostly like me.. I sometimes wish the 3 of us could be one strange little happy family, but remembering the past, I know I will regret it because it seems to be an endless cycle of lust then hate. I tell people I was too drunk at a party to remember who I slept with. I'd rather be known as a drunk whore then an incesting freak. I know i'm not alone but I know the real world would never understand. My father has always told me he doesn't see me as his daughter, but as a beautiful young woman. And he's never been my dad.. he was a stranger I met when I was 12, and we became very close. I do know there is something called genetic sexual attraction syndrome... but I will just leave it at self diagnosed. He has only met my daughter once sinse she's been born, and I honestly hope he'll be more involved in her life, even if she'll only know him as grandpa.

Thanks for reading <3

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 ]

I am so tired of complete #######4. I don't see the point of anything anymore.

I find that my hardest days are days like today where I wake up just loathing myself. From the moment my eyes open the flood of negative thoughts drown out any positive I can see. In these times even my children laughing and smiling outside my bedroom door cause me tears.
I feel alone, which is hard to do when you live with five other people but there it is. I can never seem to pin point just why some days the pain is so overwhelming and all consuming that lasting the next five minutes seems impossible.
I am worthless, unloved, and discarded. These are the thoughts that are an unending cycle in my mind. The more I attempt to distract myself from these thoughts the more invading they seem.
Any advice out there?