Hi! A month ago, I came to the sudden realization that I was gay. It was a very very long time coming, and I had kept my emotions repressed in an attempt to suppress the feelings I had for guys. I guess I kept almost all of my feelings in check, because shortly afterwards I felt horrible and was racked with guilt about everything I had done. I found myself analyzing just about everything I had ever done that was potentially harmful, spending time feeling bad about them, making amends and moving on. But two have stuck with me unrelentingly, and I feel absolutely awful about them nearly 24/7. I've found myself envying people who are dying, and I think about how if that were me I would soon be freed from the burdens of the ish I've done, and sometimes i think about how nice it would be to commit suicide, but I don't think I'd ever have the means or willpower to do it.
The first and more 'minor' thing is in regards to a girl I used to know. She first came to my school in first grade, and I was nice to her because I found her cute. As luck would have it, she lived a few doors down, so my sister and I began going outside to play with her regularly. We quickly became much less friendly as my sister and I found out that she was rather smug and a big liar, and we teased and tormented her about this and other things regularly. She moderately returned the teasing. We also ocassionally would square off at school over various things, and we got eachother in minor trouble with teachers a few times. It was pretty bad at points, but eventually we matured a bit after a year or two and my sister stopped coming out with me and me and the girl became steadfast friends. We had occasional spats and I ignored her at various points, but we always got back to being friends after a while. We really were good friends. A few years later, after 4th grade, I moved across town. We met once immediately afterwards and parted on a good note. Fast forward a few years, in 7th grade we went to the same school. We didn't talk much but there was no tension or dislike I could pick up. But one day, I heard from a mutual acquaintance of ours that she had told him that i had caused her to need therapy. I brushed it off as her lying (which she had done ALOT as a kid) and didn't think about it much. I moved away after 7th grade and had stored the thought away until I had my "epiphany" or what have you recently. It has absolutely killed me. The thought of her crying in front of a therapist while she talks about me is the worst. I feel so bad that I might have caused her such pain. I still have some optimism that she was lying, but I can see how our initial relationship could have caused her pain, and I'll always feel bad about those first few years. I looked her up online, and she had a social media presence that fizzled out a year ago. She seemed relatively happy, no mention of therapy. I'm still really scared that the only reason she stopped posting was because she killed of hurt herself. Because of me.
As awful as what I just detailed may be, its not the heaviest on my mind. Far worse is what I did to a kid who lived down the street from me when i was around 8 (honestly don't remember. I wasn't older than 9 I know that). He was a few years younger than me. We played a bit, and we'd play together with the other girl. Nothing out of the ordinary, but two experiences really just haunt me to no end. We would play around and once gave eachother wedgies (when you pull someone's underwear up), and another time we shoved twigs and leaves down eachother's pants. I was just mimicking things I saw on TV. Both times he ran in and told his mom; with the wedgies, she came out and very nicely said that that was big kid stuff and we should steer clear of it. But when he told his parents about the twigs and leaves, they told my parents about it. They explained that I was just a bit too old to play with him anymore and said we couldn't play together anymore. I played with him once more, but my dad found out and got mad (the kid was fine). I didn't get it at the time, and for the next few years wrote it off as an embarrassing memory, but now that I contemplate it, I honestly feel like I molested him. At the time, I had NO idea what sex was, there was nothing malicious or sexual or experimental about it all. But I'm scared I might have accidentally touched him somewhere inappropriate, or he might have interpreted it as molestation, or might falsely remember something sexual in either encounter. Even omitting anything sexual, he might have thought I was bullying him and had issues because of him. I'm so freaking scared that I might have completely traumatized him or ruined his life. He might have killed himself over it or tried to kill himself and been permanently injured while trying. I feel like a molestor. Every time I hear of a child rapist or child molester I feel like I'm one of them, I'm no better than those scum. I know I was young but it doesn't change that I might have scarred him for life. I watched a documentary about kids who committed sex crimes and I feel like I should have been right there in prison with them. I still fear that they will come and arrest me for what I did. Honestly, I feel worse than the sex offenders that are mentioned in the media, because they were caught. If I caused this boy pain, there is no justice for him. He has to live with the memory forever without knowing what happened to me.
I know none of what I fear is entirely likely, but its the "what if"s that haunt me to no end. What if she killed herself? What if she wasn't lying? What if he killed himself because he thinks I molested him? What if I really did molest him? there's no way for me to answer these things for sure and I feel endless guilt over them. Sometimes I can suppress the memories, but inevitably I feel awful about them. Like a monster. I've never provided humanity with anything of value, but I've taken so much and hurt some too much. I find it hard to look forward to anything in the future. After all, what the hell can a bully and child molester do that is meaningful? I can't redeem myself. When I grow up, I want to go into politics and serve people, helping them and solving problems on a large scale, but I don't think I can serve the people knowing that I have such an awful past. I'm also a little scared they'll come out with their stories and destroy my public image (I know how incredibly self-centered that is and I'm sorry. Its really a small concern. But if they come out then I'll lose any election and I won't be able to do anything worthwhile with my life and I'll just be a drain on society). Please provide any concilation if you think you can. I truly just feel awful about it, and I know I deserve it in a big way. I always want to feel some remorse so that I know never to do anything as horrible as what I have in the past. I just don't want to feel like I'm pure evil. What can I do to get over this?? Do you think I molested him, or drove the girl to suicide? Am i really that bad of a person? Thanks for reading.
(Note- i sometimes feel a little relief when I think it might be OCD. I have another symptom of OCD, really invasive thoughts. Do you think thats a possible explanation?)