This is what they’ve done to me

I need to write this so I can get it off my chest.

It’s so hard for me to just imagine having sex. I’m in my twenties and still just masturbating is a fucking struggle. I  get triggered every time.

It’s better than before, now at least I can imagine someone wanting to have sex with me, but I still feel like I’m being a spoiled brat, using someone for my own benefit (that’s how they see me). But it’s actually the opposite, my mind always tends to think that the other persons would just fuck me to get off, like a sex toy. Just using my body, because no one could really want me.

I was imagining having actual sex with someone, where both of us want to fuck each other, and I realized that’s what’s sex is. If it’s not like that, then it’s rape. And there are people in this fucking world who would find me attractive, and who would actually want to have sex with me.

It’s hard for me to accept my body. Or just have a body, or remembering that I have one. I was thinking this has always been the case, since I was a child, and obviously that was thanks to my family.

I remembered when I was 13 or 14, and we were having dinner with my whole family, and some friends of them. They decided to start talking about my appearance (that’s the only thing they would talk about me) and saying, once again, how I should change my hair, change that, pay more attention to my appearance. One of them said I looked “horrible”, and then asked “Don’t you want to attract the opposite sex?”.

What kind of fucked up question is that? Of course everyone agreed. They also starting criticizing how “shy” I was, and how I would never talk. One of their friends, who was clearly uncomfortable with the situation, tried to make it better saying “Oh, well I’m sure that when she does have something to say, it’s brilliant!”. My abuser shook their head, with a face that said “Trust me, no.”

They did that. Those people who say they love me did that to me.

I can’t even look at my body. For most of my life I didn’t even feel it. I was like a fucking cloud. I didn’t feel like I was a girl, I didn’t feel like I had a gender. I didn’t feel like I was a person.

This is the fucking proof of what they did to me. This fucking blog, this fucking post. Just so my brain doesn’t try to delete it and forget everything that ever happened to me, like it usually does.

I was a fucking child. They were supposed to tell me “Hey, are boys being nice to you? Do you feel comfortable in your own skin? Remember you’re beautiful and that I’ll protect you.” I was a 13 year old girl. But they were telling me “Your body doesn’t belong to you. Make sure you’re pretty to boys, that’s your only fucking use and you’re failing at it.”

Fuck all of them.

I hope one day someone sees the pain I’ve been through. And they deserve to fucking die. They don’t deserve to see my fucking face ever again.

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Can the owner of this body come pick it up?

I have to do a task or I might loose my only “stable” job. As always, my mental illness makes everything really hard, so I’m stressed out. I guess I’ll be fine. Hopefully.

Another frustrating thing is that I had to look at myself through my webcam for several hours today, and surprise! That’s triggering.

I don’t know, for many years I thought “Oh well, I’m insecure, a lot of girls are” but the reality is that my discomfort with my body has many layers. It’s not just insecurity.

For starters I don’t know what I look like, for several reasons. One is that I practically never look at myself in the mirror. I remember when I watched, after many years of filming it, a video of me when I was 15. I was shocked, it was like looking at someone for the first time. It wasn’t bad, I thought I looked cute. I was sad that at the time I wasn’t able to see it.

The other reason is my OSDD-1. I’ll probably talk about that more in the future, but basically is a dissociation disorder (“Another disorder?” the crowd gasps in disbelief. Yes!).

I can only explain it as a mild form of Dissociative  Identity Disorder. The person doesn’t have completely formed alters (incorrectly called “personalities”) or long periods of amnesia. Instead, they have what some people call facets, or less defined versions of alters, and no amnesia. This is caused by trauma at a really young age.

Basically, I’m kinda divided in three parts. There are two parts of me that aren’t me, and there’s also the “real” me. And those two other parts aren’t females. So… you guessed it! Gender dysphoria ensues.

I know it sounds incredibly bizarre, but that’s all I’ve ever known so I’m used to it. And when you grow up being abused by your family,  the standards of what “normal” is don’t really apply to anything.

Pretty much all of the time my facets are fronting (OSDD / DID terms) so they don’t really identify with my body.

And when I do think of my body, it is mostly about how much I want to hurt myself.

Clearly I don’t have an ideal relationship with my body. And then when I’m forced to look at myself, it is a really uncomfortable experience.

So, after having to do that for several hour today… Borderline Personality Disorder is knocking on the door. I started thinking about how horrible I look, how no one in this earth will ever fall in love with me, and how much I want to fucking die.

I managed to talk myself out of that spiral of thoughts, but I still fell quite shitty. Being mentally ill sounds super fun, right?