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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

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 !

WHERE TO START????....OH YEAH, ZEE BEGINNING, LOL>>>>>>>>>> THIS IS LOOOOONG!
Im 23, got diagnosed a month ago after a FAILED suicide attempt....

The day I tried to kill myself was mothers day, it triggered so much and after a telephone conversation with my dad where he was basically telling me to be more open with him, I just lost it.....

I was repeatedly raped from age 6 to 9 by 3 men who some how decided to make me their toy....my biological mother is what you call a ''SHEBEEN QUEEN". She was that drunk lady down you street you always heard stories about, from the many men who come in and out of her house, poor condition of the house and how her kids just had to deal with all this......*depends on where u grew up*.....anyways, she wasnt around most nights and during the day she either slept or tried to fight off her hang over....it felt normal for me, living like that, I didnt know there was any other way a family lived but it all changed when I met my father, at 6 years old......I didnt know I had a father till I met him, I never questioned who my daddy was because I ddnt know what a daddy was........

life was a bit different during the small occassions he would come and buy me gifts, "ILL NEVER FORGET MY 1ST BIKE"....i felt somehow loved when he bought me stuff and gave my mother money and 3 out of 7 nights we had food to eat at home......I really loved my father......school for me is a blur, dont know why, I had different recollections of certain events but its like i slept whenever I went to school and woke up when it was over.......I remember the 3 men who did things to me and threatened me repeatedly but somehow I dont remember doing homework and writing tests at that age.........
I was around 9 when i started visiting my father during school holidays and eventually met my step mother and older brother. i remember how kind and gentle my step mom was and how I tried to sleep with my older brother when I was 9 and how the nanny caught me naked on the floor and my brother standing by the door looking confused..........that episode was not shared with my father or step mother.......I thought all boys touched girls the way the 3 men touched me.......

anyways, long story short, my step mom was a social worker who noticed my weird behaviour around my brother and other male siblings, I dont know how I acted weird as I have never asked ..........my step mom had to literally hit me for me to tell her about the 3 men back at home....I got taken away from my mother and out in a place of safety after many questions and cross examinations.......that year was the best, I had soo much fun, even though I started being a bully........

a year later I started living with my father, wasnt allowed to talk aor see my biological mother and thats when my step mom became "the grinch".......i wasnt allowed to sit alone with my dad and my brother mostly lived with his biological mother.......LONG STORY SHORT: my step mom was emotionally and physically abusing me and my father being a busy business man was not around all the time.....I acted out by bullying kids at school and got into lots of trouble and went from a star student to a barely passing student.....somehow i did well in school when I was living with my mother and when I was at the place of safety.......anyways, I mostly bullied boys, started hating them, purberty came and i hated them more as I ddnt understand why my body was changing and "crushes"........

High school came along and I was put into a boarding school, learnt about sex, drugs and alcohol......my dad was very strict, wasnt allowed to have friends over when i was in primary......my dad did hit me many times when i got into trouble, its his way of discipline....anyways, I failed 1 year in high school barely made it out alive, developed many eating disorders and was obese by the time I finished high school............made friends, and i did love being away...

[ Continued ]

I've had dp/dr, emphasis on the DR, for about 4-5 months. I'm 19 years old. I know I got it after a visit to the ER a few months ago for chest pains, which turned out to be acid reflux. On top of that, I was and still am having migraines and very intense sharp pains in my head. I do have an appt with a neurologist.
Anyway, the world has felt completely fake and dreamy to me starting a few weeks or days after that visit to the hospital. I know my anxiety spiked an extraordinary amount, the worst it's ever been. I've been suffering from panic attacks since I was about 9 or 10 -- I remember sort of feeling derealized once back then too. However I didn't process it as intensely, so it went away quickly, plus I was young and my mind was occupied almost always.
I'm just terrified at the moment, because I've always been tortured by existential thoughts to begin with, but having dp/dr makes them so much worse. Unbearably worse -- they would send me into a spiralling panic where I'd just cry and cry for days on end, and I hate being alone with my thoughts -- I've been sleeping in my mom's bed This dreamy feeling is so real, I can't always convince myself that I'm not dreaming, or that the world ISN'T fake. And that is what's been getting worse. It's like my brain is convincing me everything is fake,oh well. I feel completely hopeless at this point.
My panic attacks lately have been about how I can't believe I'm going through this. I can't believe this is actually happening, so my brain says "it's not" and now I'm fk'd.
Will everything ever feel real again?
Will I ever enjoy life again?
I think another reason I'm stuck in this is because I'm not in school, and I'm unemployed, There's only so much I can do to get a job. I've applied everywhere.
I have memory problems, panic attacks in which I feel as if I've dropped acid, and the world feels so fake I can't believe it's not. Writing all this down/talking about it does not help one bit. I've purchased 2 books in the mail that are supposed to help me--one should come tomorrow, so wish me luck xx
This is one fk'd up anxiety symptom.
(Hard to process it even is one anymore)