fantasy
9/28/16
This is embarrassing for me. I spend a lot of time fantasizing about being successful. Iām thin, beautiful, smart, talented, and in control. Everyone likes me and thinks Iām worthwhile. One day I make a personal statement. about my sexual past. I talk about the trauma, the promiscuity, the loss of libido. The fear. Itās a tasteful statement. I tell people it gets better. If I can get through it, they can. People appreciate it.
I guess I often think about cutting. I havenāt cut in almost 6 years. When sex happens Iām flooded by wanting to fillet my skin and pull out all my hair. I want to put my head through the wall and my last thoughts will be that Iām finally escaping. Everything will hurt except for my sexual organs.
I wonder if my fascination with cuts, bruises, and scrapes are somehow from a desire to be understood which sounds stupid as fuck. When I would cut I had a fleeting sense of euphoria (maybe). Iām always proud to show off injuries, but not the ones that I did myself. Those are a source of shame.
What Iām getting at is that having injuries was sort of me wanting people to see/acknowledge that I was suffering. I didnāt want the help or sympathy or whatever; just wanted people to see I was struggling. This is also stupid as fuck.
So many times Iāve wished for a physical injury or disease instead. People would see it and accept it and not question it. I would be able to talk about my injury. Almost no one wants to hear about being beaten while fucked. Or having anal sex as a child with a man twice my age.
I feel so fucking alone in this. I wish I could say,Ā āI am hurting so fucking badlyā and people would accept it and move on. Understand, maybe.
If I canāt start having real, normal, nice sex soon, I will lose him. I will have lost the best part of me. Even if I was attractive, no one would want to be with a mentally ill, ex-stripper, herpes-ridden, unemployed loser who canāt even fuck right. I have nothing to offer. If I have nothing to give, I have nothing to live for.