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 ]

Hello everyone!
Some bad things happened in my life lately, and i really don't know what to do anymore. And i can't tell anyone and i really need help... Please help me.
I'm a 16 year old girl. I have an older sister who is 20 years old, but lives in another country. I also had an older brother but he died and i'm the youngest kid of my family. My parents were always good to my siblings, but they always abuse me physcially and mentally. My parents divorced when i was 11 and i started to live with my father. But he was always beating me up, throwing me stuff and yelling at me, saying bad stuff to me and i was really depressed. And everyone was bullying me in school because of my look and it was making me really upset and make me hate myself.
When i turned 13, i started to live with my mom and she got married last year. But she changed a lot after she got married. She started abuse me, she was always talking about how ugly and stupid and lazy i am etc. Then she started to hitting me.
One day my mom and stepdad went out for drinking (they are drunk most of the time already so...) and they came home at like 3 am. And my stepdad tried to rape me. Then i called police, they took him to police station but he didn't go to jail...
After that day, he started to hit me too and my mom wasn't saying anything. I had a lot of scars and bruises on my face and body.
And then they kicked me out from the house because they said they can't take stand me anymore and my dad said he doesn't want me in his home so i'm staying at my friends home for now.
I feel really bad. I wanna run away from all of this and I wanna die. Nobody really cares about me, even my parents. I want to talk to my mom but I can't do it. I don't know what to do.
Btw i'm sorry for my bad English because my first language isn't English and i'm still learning. Thank you so much for reading..

Hi!

Well I'm 24 years old, my scars are a decade old, literally. When I was younger, I grew up in a war called "home" and I suppressed my emotions, I always had a smile on, was always making others laugh, pretending pain was not reality. It was reality alright, I broke at the tender age of 14, but I never wanted to die. I had harmed myself in order to understand the feelings others would get from cutting, but I could never seem to find the pleasure through it, it hurt! I did this a few times until I said "enough is enough there must be another way!"-- And truthfully the only way was simply getting my life together, it all starts from within. I learned to deal with pain on my own, no help. I've been through a lot and have made plenty of mistakes, but I believe and KNOW my past does NOT define the strong woman I am today.

I've always wanted to serve my country, I've been a protector since a child, the fuel to the fire actually started at home protecting my mother and sister from my father, then I proceeded behind the doors of my homes, such as protecting ones from bullies. I want to enlist with the Air Force in a year, do a bit more college before hand, and I want to major in psychology. I'd love to help anyone in general, from my personal experiences I have helped many, and I will not stop being there for others, guiding them, showing them there is a way. I feel there's too many people that go into professions that give service onto others simply for the money, instead of doing it because it comes from the heart, because they genuinely care, and want to help.

I've seen positive and negative thoughts over my past and how it can disqualify me, I will still try my best and give it my all, but what is your thoughts on this? And even if I do get disqualified, I'm gonna continue my studies towards becoming a psychologist. I can still become one, right? It would be a shame to know all years I'd put into something I love I'd be denied from because of my past mistakes.

Thank you!

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

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!