When I lay down every night I wish that I won’t wake up in the morning. I hate my life. My partner is a lazy bum who won’t get a real job or contribute in any meaningful financial way. My mother bullied me into a business that I loathe, but I’m saddled with so much debt as a result that I can’t get out. I work 4 jobs. I just feel so overwhelmed all the time. I take care of everyone, but no one takes care of me, until last week, when I met up with an old friend who has always loved me, and we ended up having an afternoon of great sex, but now I feel guilty about that also. It was just so nice to have someone pamper me and cuddle me and take care of me. I wish I could be with him all the time, but he’s married. What a mess my life is. I have surgery coming up in a few weeks. I kind of hope there are complications and I die on the table. It would be so much easier than this.
Sometimes I wish I would have died that night…
I hate that all these years later I can’t let go of you. I think about you every single day. I don’t want to be with you but I want to hear your voice or your laugh. I want you to be as happy and loved as I am. I want someone to love you with their whole heart and soul. I don’t want to be with you but I love you so much that I would give anything for you to be happy. I love you but I wish I could let you go. I’m not afraid to die because I feel like we will find each other in the next life, this one we were meant to navigate on our own. The guilt of having an easy life while you struggle haunts me every day. Every single day. I want for you to have what I have. No one deserves it more than you. If you read this, please know that I do love you very very much and I wish I could just let go and accept that we are not together so it should not matter how you are. But it does. I ask the universe all the time to bring you someone who can love you the way I do. I just want you to be happy and healthy and so loved.
I am a male in my mid-thirties. Even though I crossdress, I am straight. I used to be bi-curious but, a few weeks ago, I made a huge mistake. I finally worked up the courage to try it out and arranged on the internet to meet a complete stranger at a nearby hotel for gay sex. After the most appalling night of my life, I was definitely rid of my bi-curious fantasies. Unfortunately, unknown to me, he had hidden a camera in the room and filmed the whole thing. He tracked me down and showed me a couple of excerpts of the movie – one with me stripping down to my bra, girdle and stockings, and another with us having intercourse. He now wants me to continue having a sexual relationship with him or he’ll put the movie on the internet and make sure people at my workplace find out where to access it. So from now on I’ll be spending two or three nights a week at his place, starting tonight. I don’t see I have any choice.
We broke up December three years ago. We’ve both moved on, for the most part. But sometimes I look at my future husband and wish he was you. Nobody has been able to love me the way you did. Nobody has made me as happy as you made me. Nobody has put me in the tumultuous lows we experienced, either, but I’m wise enough to realize that much of it was my fault. If I was the woman then that I am today, our dreams would be a reality. But I wasn’t, and you’re no longer the man I once knew. I’m sorry I ruined you. It was all my fault. I hope you find yourself again and give her all the joy you gave me.
When I was nine or ten, I met a younger boy in an elevator who asked me my name, and if I was a girl or a boy. I was in a bad mood so I grabbed his face and said “Can’t you see that I’m a girl?”
It turned out that he couldn’t. He was blind.
I can’t remember if I apologised or just stood silently till he reached his floor, in shock of what I’d done and I regret it to this day.
I thought about it earlier today during my Foreign Languages exam and nearly broke down in the exam hall. I’m sixteen, and this has been haunting me for the past six years of my life.
I wish I could meet the boy and properly apologize.
Then again, I wish he’d forgotten about that day a long long time ago.
Am I a horrible person? I definitely feel like one.
I broke up with the woman I want to be married to…
To be with the woman I married.
Throughout middle school, after ******** I got sexually harassed by boys my age. In high school I continued to get sexually harassed by the stupid boys my age. They’d grab at me and make gross jokes and whisper in the classroom knowing I could hear them talking about my body.
I was so angry.
I’ve always been angry.
One day I decided to stop eating so I’d lose weight. The idea was that if I lost weight, they’d leave me alone because I didn’t have anything to grab. I immediately stopped eating more than a meal a day, and I dropped two-three pant sizes in less than a less than a semester.
My body was covered in ugly stretchmarks and I hated myself for what I’d done. I’ve told my best friend of six years about this and she’s the only one that knows, but I’m too scared to tell her that even after I’d achieved what I wanted to accomplish, I still kept starving myself because by that point I just wanted to wither away into nothing and die.
I’m fairly healthy now, but I still hate myself so much. I don’t want her to think I’m pathetic, even though I am, and I don’t want her to feel sad or worried.
I wish I wasn’t like this.
This one time, I got to know a lovely human being online. It was on Tumblr. I don’t know how we ended following each other. But she would make me feel certain ways through her words. We had some chats and I realized this was no ordinary person. She was special. Time passed and she added me on other social media after we got to know each other a bit. I had no idea who this person was adding me until I figured out it was her.. and damn mine eyes.. damn them.. she had the most beautiful face I’ve ever witnessed in my long years on Earth. Lips like heaven. Beautiful deadly yet serene eyes. A face to die for. And on top of that she had a great sense of humor, a positive view on life, and a killer taste in music. I fell in love. It was love at first friend request… literally. I could not stop thinking about her. I started dreaming about her. And we got to know each other a bit more. I was swept and knocked out of the park. Only problem? She lived an ocean and a half away from me.. and I was just some punk kid with dreams living in America. But I couldn’t get her out of my mind. 2 years had passed and her name grew on me.. it was a beautiful name.. and everyday I would pronounce it in my head. She inspired me for instrumentals.. she inspired me for songs.. I wrote about her a lot.. and after speaking with her one last time and mildly flirting with her.. I didn’t speak to her for a month and I left on a tour by myself and did my own thing. We didn’t talk and I wondered why.. but I kept to myself.. then I realized maybe she found someone.. and I became infuriated. I thought to myself “That’s it you’re in too deep!” and I deleted her off all social media and blocked her. A month later she found me and asked what happened.. I responded with a long half-assed thought out cover up. “Oh I wrote you some songs and didn’t want you to hear them.” It was bullshit.. half bullshit.. I did write songs.. but they were so ******* good that I wouldn’t think twice about releasing them even if she was on my contact lists.. they were THAT good. The reason I deleted and blocked her was because I couldn’t bare thinking about her being with anyone but me.. I felt like I should belong to her and only her.. I fell in love. Reason I say this is because 3 years of knowing this person existed.. and not a day goes by in which I don’t think about her.. not a day goes by. I don’t visit her pages. I don’t try talking to her. I just simply disappeared after confessing my half assed lie. But I’m glad I didn’t confess my feelings… cause a reaction other than what I wanted would have ruined my day. And yet still.. not a day goes by in which I don’t think about her. I hope she is happy, even though I wish I could be the one to make her happy.
When I was 14 I was a lonely outcast that was constantly bullied. One day I met up with a friend that lives in a different part of the country, she told me she made fake facebook accounts and added her school friends, her fake accounts made her real self popular because she was “friends” with that one “beautiful girl” on facebook and had that “perfect long distance boyfriend”. I was jealous and I wanted to make friends at school so I did it too. One day my little brother found one of those accounts in my friends list and I told him it’s just a friend. He kept asking more and started “chatting” with this friend. Eventually he told my mom about “her” and I ended up lying to my mom too. I completely stopped using fake accounts when I was 16 because I realized how disgusting it is to keep my friends interested in me because of someone that doesn’t exist. I have mild anxiety and depression, which were really intense in middle school, so I just wanted to be normal. I wanted to have things to talk about, awesome friends that I did things with, but because I’m an outcast I never had those so I made them up. I’m almost 19 now and it’s the biggest regret of my life. I can’t believe I lied to my own family, I am truly scum. So here I am, years later, gettin drunk and cutting myself while waiting for my mom to come home so I can tell her the truth. The guilt has been eating me alive for so long that if I don’t tell them I will die.
No one,not even a single soul in my family or my friends know….that im…im not a virgin anymore..its probably not a big deal to you but to me,it is..in my culture and religion,its a sin to not be a virgin out of marriage..i terribly regretting the fact that i gave my virginity to a dickhead who turned out to be a pathetic loser. And im afraid of what will my future husband thinks if he knows about this :(
Struggling with Bulimia 4 years later makes me hate myself for even starting making myself throw up. I’m now doing my first year at university and the pressure makes it so worse but I don’t have anyone around to help. I am never going to reach out and get help for this, and no one here would ever call me out on it or force me to seek help. It’s scary to think how far it has gotten and how bad it could get. And I can do nothing to stop it.