a comment worth journaling - i rape myself part 2
have had tremendous problems with promiscuity. the only thing that saved me from it was gaining weight. i started to gain a little when i started meds but i quickly learned that the more i gained, the less of a target i would be. men would want me less (so the need to give in out of fear and auto-pilot dissociation) and i would be much less willing to disrobe (which would discourage going on a date in the first place). but before all of this gaining and hiding, i was a whore on and off for about 10 years. not just whoreing in the fucking strangers sense, but in the kissing those i didn't want to, allowing married men to call me and touch me while dancing, being actively seductive when not the least bit 'horney'. the list goes on. every time i was approached, i gave in. be it a make out session on a bar room dance floor, a number given to an unattractive man, a date with someone i knew was married but allowed myself to believe the lie that he wasn't. i slept with everyone that wanted to when i drank. i only remember some of those nights and have tried to block out some others.
to be blunt, whatever hole God made for me to enjoy and create life, someone, somewhere tore open further with their dirt and sin. then later in highschool i let three boys stretch and rip it further. and then throughout the following years, i let others break, rip, tear, stretch and bruise it open even more... now like a stetched out, used up porn star, waiting for labial reconstruction surgery, i too (tho metaphorically), wait to be sown up and made small again so maybe one day i can stop the leak of my soul down the inside of my thighs and again feel the pleasure of a place once natural and God-given.
i had to drink to get thru the torture of sex and the freaky feeling of being out of body. i then had to drink to get thru the memory of what i did without my consent. i was raped by my own hand weekly for 10 years.
whatever trauma was indured my first years of life, was made worse by my allowing it to continue; by become the dirty little bitch i was made to be. i tried to beat them at their own game; to cut myself before they stabbed me... but instead i still get to lie in a pool of my own blood, but by my hand and without the sympathy of a 'real' victim.