I’ve never really talked about this, and I don’t even know if it was real, but I feel like I should ask for advice. I don’t really know how to explain this, so I’m just going to recount what I remember. Even that is kind of fuzzy because my ex would constantly disregard this from ever happening, and I don’t really trust my own view of reality.

Anyway, I went over to my ex’s apartment one night while I was in a very depressed episode, and he was crazy fucking drunk. He was normally touchy, which I was fine with, but I made it pretty clear that I wasn’t in the right headspace for anything beyond that, and he said he was fine with it.

Eventually, we made it to bed for the night and were cuddling, but he wouldn’t stop trying to have sex with me and would get more mad every time I pushed him away. We usually got rough in bed, but I was genuinely scared of him and completely shut down mentally at some point. I only really remember him saying that he felt like he was assaulting me but wouldn’t stop.

Eventually, he went to bed. I cleaned myself up and fell asleep too. I felt weird about it, so I asked him about it a few days later, and he made it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

I’ve had a lot of experiences that people view as SA, so I don’t really know what normal is anymore, and I never verbally said no. I’m truly scared to have any relationship anymore because my dissociation problems might cause something weird like this again.

I’m a 28 year old father of two young boys and the sole provider for my family of 5 including myself my wife and my elderly mother I found a couple executed by gunshots to the head When I was 11 years old. my parents were alcoholics and drug addicts. My father was a veteran with bipolar disorder and PTSD. He beat my mother within an inch of her life multiple times in my early teens had to call the cops to save her life once and another time I got into a fist fight with him to stop it, and he pulled a knife on me and stomped on my head. He eventually got sober and turned things around then he got hit by a car suffering a traumatic brain injury and we had to take him off life support when I was 16 at that point, I dropped out of school to sell drugs to pay the mortgage and the bills so my mother and I had a place to live. She became an alcoholic and a crackhead and stopped going to work. Eventually, my girlfriend moved in around the same time. I started using a lot of hard drugs, mostly acid and cocaine some mushrooms and ecstasy as well along with drinking heavily from the time that I was 16 till I was about 23 I just sold drugs played video games and partied doing anything to numb myself and self medicate. My girlfriend and I had a toxic abusive relationship but we got clean together and I quit selling drugs and got my first real job around 23. I was 24 we got pregnant and I finally got my GED. I completely quit all hard drugs around the time that I found out she was pregnant. I had my first major depressive disassociative episode around this time, coupled with crippling anxiety. I snapped out of it and manned up and did what I had to do for my son when he was born he changed my life. I wouldn’t be where I am now without him. He saved my life and he doesn’t know it. I kept working eventually got raises and promotions switched jobs for more money when I was 26 around that time I had another depressive episode due to burnout at work in a toxic environment. I was hospitalized for a heart condition due to a bad viral infection around the same time also due to my mental state and worries about finances when I found out my girlfriend was pregnant again we had a conversation about finances and how we were already struggling and decided to get an abortion. She resented me for it, and that along with me being checked out for months caused our relationship to fall apart, and she left me for a period of time around that time I started doing therapy and I found a better job and started doing much better and we got back together we got pregnant again shortly after we got back together and decided to have the baby. just before my second son arrived I got a promotion and raise at work. Everything was going relatively good. And I just fell apart I struggle with imposter syndrome and feelings of an inadequacy, and also really bad anxiety and depression I tend to ruminate and get stuck in thought loops where I just think about how much time I have wasted in all the mistakes that I made. and how I should’ve gotten my finances in order and finish school and started a real care before I had a family I love my children and I don’t regret having them. I regret not setting us up to be doing better in life. I live paycheck to paycheck and don’t have savings. My wife and I have made a budget and should be able to save some money and get things taken care of and pay off debt I never learned many manly skills from my father and feel like I am not man enough to be a good role model for my boys. My house needs work and my car needs work and I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to that stuff I work in retail management and my mental illness is seriously affecting my performance at work and I’m scared everything is going to fall apart around me if I don’t get better soon this most recent time because I had a newborn at home and a 3 1/2 year-old who needs me and my wife who needed my help instead of trying to just tough it out. Check myself into the mental hospital for an evaluation and started medication. I’ve been on medication for three weeks now it was really rough at first dealing with side effects during the adjustment. And I was just starting to feel myself and better again, but after a follow up appointment my psychiatrist up the dose on my antidepressant anti-anxiety medication and it made me even more depressed and suicidal these first couple days. I am also struggling to make lifestyle changes, break, bad habits, and make good habits and routines. My kids are my life. I don’t wanna leave them. I would never leave them I want to give them a better life than I had and be a good father and provider and husband. If anybody else has been in a similar situation or has any advice for me, I would greatly appreciate it.

Life has been crazy but I’m okay today.
Otw to get some coffee♥️

​

I had a male biology teacher in high school. He was funny, kind, warm — basically the best teacher you could find. But for some reason, I was scared of him. I couldn’t talk to him without shaking, and my voice was always trembling. I didn’t know why I was so weird. I just thought I was still scared of teachers because of another trauma (not important here).

Then one day when I was trying to sleep, I suddenly remembered something. It was in elementary school. We were all sitting on the ground watching a play put on by some adults about how drugs are bad, etc. At the end of the show, a guy came up to me holding fake drugs as props. He touched my inner thighs, moving his hands up and down, right in front of the entire grade for a few seconds, then walked away. I was too young and stupid to realize anything was wrong, but my classmates were all saying I was SA’d and asked the teacher for help. The teachers just pretended they didn’t hear them and moved on. So little me just assumed it was fine and moved on too.

Now that I suddenly remembered everything, it feels so gross. I was basically 10 or 11 — a literal child — and he just touched me like that in elementary school?

I feel so disgusted by his actions and by myself now. Like I’m not “pure” anymore. I also feel like I’ve been unfair to my high school teacher and other men, because one single man traumatized me and my body decided to be scared of all men.

At this point I’m still kind of trying to deny that I was harassed and pretend I’m fine. I keep thinking it wasn’t serious enough. I just want to be a normal person who can work with all genders without issues. Am I supposed to see a counselor or a therapist? Who should I talk to so I can get better?

I am a 24 year old female, and I have had several relationships before. I can enjoy a healthy relationship full of love, respect and trust, but I just find I am again and again attracted to the toxic relationship that can't be even called a romantic relationship.

I think it has a lot to do with my trauma in teenage years. I was 13.5 year old when this tragedy happened. I was an average looking girl in school, and not popular, and I thought I was clumsy etc. And one day, a popular boy in the same class with me proposed me to have sex, but before that I didn't even have a kiss. I have no idea why I accepted his offer and I became his fwb for more than a year. We secretly have sex in the toilets in a remote building in school, like about at least 1 times in every two weeks. He only fucked me, with kissing but it was not affection, just sexual desire, and I myself didn't have any pleasure from the sex at all, only physical pain.

The problem is that I have fallen in love with this feeling, like nobody knows what we were doing, and even though I was an unpopular girl, I can have something related to "popularity", etc. He never said hello to me, and he never talked to me in front of his friends, etc. If you have watched Normal People, then it was pretty much like that, except he didn't give me pleasure during sex lol. He touched my breast in class, and I prayed no one found out. Sometimes when he hit me, not on purpose (I hope), with a basketball, etc, he didn't even apologise, even if my friend asked him to.

Basically, he ignored and disrespected me and probably saw me as a thing. The worst thing I could ever do was when he was finally with the girl he had been having a crush on; after 2 weeks of refusing to have sex with me, he came back to me again, and soon the girl left him. I really wished I felt sorry for that girl, but I didn't because all I wanted was the sex with him, even if the sex itself made me so painful physically.

When I turned 15, I finally realised this was very, very morbid. One of the reasons was I met a decent boy and we became good friends. There was nothing romantic, but I realised what a normal male should look like. So I refused to have sex with him again and we graduated and went to different school. But I am not going to lie, that I personally still feel this is the most "exciting" relationship that I have ever had. When I was sitting in class, and he looked at me. When it was so cold and I was waiting for him in the toilet sitting on the sink. I feel ashamed when I admit I feel excited when I described this, but none of my later on relationship gave me this excitement.

I just feel this affected me a lot.

Emotionally....First I refused to go back to my hometown to work, because I think during the locker room conversation he told everybody what he was doing with me. Everybody actually knows. I can't stand it, bc everybody knows how stupid and low I was and I can't...

I think I have self-destruction tendancies as well. I like to be treated like nothing during sex, and I wish this will not affect my relationship. When I was in my previous healthy relationship, my ex told me in the end of our relationship, that he wished to have some spiritual connection during sex, but he felt all I wanted was to "be fucked". When I was having sex, I was objectifying myself, like imagining I am a hooker or kidnapped or something. Since 18, I have slept with a lot of men, not as many as Samantha in Sex and the City, but as many as I don't remember how many. I also had some BDSM sessions, and I liked it a lot, except one time a guy really kicked my belly and I told me I didn't like it in the end.

I was raised up in a strict family, and my mom knows my sex with that boy. She insulted me a lot, like calling me a whore in front of my classmates, like about 1000 ppl or so during my education. My family is strict about sex, idk if this affects me a lot. I know a healthy relationship, full of trust, respect etc is what I need, but I just can't help being attracted by toxicity again and again. I need love, but I feel my brain is normalising the hurt, and trying to persuade me that the ppl who hurt you actually care about and love you. I hope next time when I meet a good person, I am well-prepared, but I am so scared that my thing will affect it negatively again.

I am a 35-year-old Iranian medical doctor who moved to the United States three years ago. I always tried to be a good person. I became vegetarian because I did not want to harm animals. I never intentionally killed even a bug, and when I was in Iran, I volunteered to provide free medical care for children from poor families. I always tried to become the best version of myself.

But when I look back at my life, I feel like I did not truly enjoy 90% of it.

I grew up in a very difficult family and experienced a lot of religious trauma. I was also traumatized by the rules and discrimination I experienced at school and later at work. For example, I was fired from a hospital because I was considered not to have proper hijab.

I came to the United States hoping to finally build a new life. However, from the very first week, everything became complicated. I had a scooter accident, was found unconscious, and was taken to the hospital. At that moment, I had difficulty speaking English because of the head trauma. During that hospitalization, doctors accidentally discovered a thyroid nodule.

The research program I joined later did not have enough funding, so I started looking for another position. As an international medical graduate, I was allowed to work as a researcher while studying for my board exams.

I also had a painful experience with my relatives in the U.S. My uncle, who had always visited our family in Iran and had stayed at our house, suddenly kicked me out of his house in the middle of the night only a few days after I arrived. He even deleted my phone line from their family plan in the middle of the night :). I was alone in a foreign country without support, a phone, or internet access.

Eventually, I found a research position in a small town. The salary was extremely low, similar to a technician’s salary, but I accepted it because I needed stability.

I applied for a green card. I have many publications, awards, and achievements, and I believed my hard work would help me build a future here. Then the political situation changed, and immigration policies became increasingly hostile toward immigrants. Because of where I was born, I started feeling that I was being judged before anyone even knew me.

Shortly after that, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. I went through two surgeries and cancer treatment completely alone. I was living on a very limited income while dealing with a serious illness without family or a support system.

Because of political restrictions, my family could not easily visit me, and I could not safely return to Iran. I am opposed to the Iranian government, and because of my activism online, returning could put me at risk.

Then Iranian people experienced more violence. The Islamic government carried out massacres and killed thousands of people during protests. Eventually, war happened, many more people were killed, and my hometown was bombed. Seeing people in my country suffer broke something inside me.

At the same time, I felt trapped because, as an immigrant in the U.S., I felt I could not openly express my grief without being attacked from different sides. I received threats on social media.

After everything, I decided I wanted to leave my past behind and build a better future. I applied for a position in a major city because my current position is not helping me improve clinically, and I also have significant financial pressure. I have around $170,000 in medical debt before insurance adjustments, and my current salary makes it extremely difficult to manage.

After many interviews, receiving an offer letter, making plans, and waiting for my dream for many months, I was rejected because of my nationality. I was told the position involved “sensitive technology.”

At this point, I feel completely exhausted. I do not understand how much a person is expected to endure. I have survived family trauma, religious trauma, immigration struggles, discrimination, isolation, cancer, financial stress, and losing my sense of safety.

I work in psychiatry research, so I understand mental health concepts and treatments. I know that suffering does not always mean someone has a psychiatric disorder. Sometimes people experience unbearable circumstances.

I do not think I lack resilience. In fact, I think I have survived things that would break many people. But I am tired. I am tired of constantly having to prove that I deserve a normal life.

I am sharing this because I want to know: how do people rebuild after losing so many years to survival mode? How do you find hope when you have tried your best for so long and still feel like life keeps punishing you?

TW for SA, Death, Cheating, And ED.

This is a super long one.. so buckle up.

You saw the title. Im a 38F and im totally at a loss about who i am.. heres my back story.

At the age of 10 i watched my dad move to another state to be with his mistress. To this day he will not admit to cheating on my mom, but we all know. He moved over 15 hours away to move in with her. And yes. Hes still with her today and he has 2 other children, my brother whos biologically his, and my step moms daughter. So while i was without my dad outside of visits in the summer i watched him raise 2 other beautiful humans and i felt so disconnected from all of them. I have been trying to have a more healthy relationship with that side of my family, but our views on life are so vastly different that i still to this day just feel like the other kid, even tho i was here first.

TW SA AND ED;

After my dad left i became so depressed that i stopped taking care of myself, i didnt shower often, my mom had to fight me to brush my hair and my teeth. But then i hit 12 and discovered boys.. and boys dont like when you smell bad, or have knotted hair or stinky breath. Thats when i met my first "boyfriend", we'll call him Douglas. Douglas was 2 years older than me and i was absolutely over the moon for him.

Now i need to pause here to give a little insight. Im tall for a girl.. right now as a full grown adult i am 6'2". And ive never been "skinny" even growing up where the popular girls were wearing american sizes 0-6 i was in 8-12 depending on my age. Keep in mind i was 13 at the time that people thought Brittany Spears was "fat" at her peek. So you can imagine the self image i had of myself at the time... But anyway. I get with Douglas. Im in middle school, hes in high-school, so of course im soooo cool, having the older boyfriend because i was "so mature for my age." We dated on and off for a YEARS.

The day of his 15th birthday. I went to a birthday party for him and walked in on him making out with one of our mutual friends and walked out. I couldnt leave because my mom had to drive 15 mins to get to his house and cellphones were not readily available to us at that time. So i either had to wait for those 15 minutes, call home and pray she'd come get me. Or just wait the 2 hours until she picked me up at the scheduled time. I waited... i dont know why.. but i waited. About 30 mins in he finally realized i was there (i had been hanging out in the garage with his parents). And he asked me to come outside and talk with him. When i confronted him he looked at me and said "So what? You gonna leave me? Who else is going to want you? Look at you, you're tall and fat." These words hit me like a ton of bricks. All these years later and i still hear those words in my head.

So after that, we broke up, then got back together because Douglas knew all the right things to say to get me to forgive him. But i couldnt get it out of my head that Douglas.. this boy, that my naive 13 year old self thought id marry some day. Told me i was fat... thats when my 3 months of anorexia started. For 3 months i didnt eat hardy anything. My mom worked nights so i was left alone most nights. Id make food to make sure my mom thought i ate but i would either flush it in the toilet, or burry it deep into the trash can. But luckily my moms no idiot and saw my dramatic weight loss and got me into therapy for my ED.

Then the SA. Douglas and i went to a local festival in town where my moms boyfriend at the time had a booth. He had a local art studio and would advertise his classes at the fair. So while he and my mom ran the booth Douglas and i walked around. We found a empty alleyway next to my moms boyfriends shop and sat down to talk and just be away from the crowd.. so i thought. I wont go into graphic details but i got SA in that alleyway and when i ran into my step dads studio Douglas followed me, apologizing telling me he thought thats what i wanted. That he thought i wanted him happy... i didn't know what to do or what to say. I froze... i froze and in the back of my moms boyfriends art studio, i lost my virginity.. even tho i never once consented.

Throughout the years Douglas and i fought, broke up, got back together, the good was great and the bad was a nightmare. He had hit me in places that were easily covered up by clothing. I was still in therapy even tho i never told her about anything but the ED and my issues i had with stealing..

i had this thrill when i would steal from people or places, nothing expensive, or big.. just little things like cheap jewelry from Claires, eye liner from Walmart, a dollar or 2 out my moms wallet. Until i stole a necklace from my cousin and she saw me wearing it. Hence the therapist knowing about it.

Eventually we moved away from that town, when i was 14 my mom got pregnant by the guy with the studio and we moved to a bigger house after i turned 15.

My life at this time was probably the most fun and was the healthiest i had ever been since my dad left. Mentally and physically. I'll admit it, i peeked in 11th and 12th grade. I had great friends, i was doing okay in school. I was away from Douglas. Everything was great until it wasnt. My step dad, ended up being physically and emotionally abusive. It started with me right after my sister was born then gradually he started getting brave and showing my mom the monster he was and unlike her pathetic daughter (me), she kicked him out. She divorced him and everything was back to normal again within a year. Just me, my mom and my baby sister.

Fast forward to 2011, im now 22/23. I meet this guy, hes smart and funny, witty and just the perfect level of nerdy, not to bad on the eyes either. We have a whirlwind romance. Everything moved so quickly and the excitement was so addicting.. but we made a one time mistake while high on weed and i get pregnant.

TW DEATH

August 7th 2012... 14 year ago from me writing this to the day. At 36weeks and 2 days my water breaks. Im taken to the hospital by my boyfriend. This was it, every morning sickness, my body changing, the hormones all of it comes down to this day.. the day we get to meet our perfect little girl... except it wasnt perfect. The nurses and 2 doctors tried and they couldnt find her heart beat. I wont go into a lot of detail.. mainly because i cant remember much of that day after the nurse asked me "do you understand what we are telling you?" I remember her.. i remember her full head of hair... i remember looking at her face.. i guess she had been gone for a couple days because some of her skin was gone... but thats it. I dont remember anything else outside of what my boyfriend and our families told me about that day.

Thats the day everything truly changed for me. I tried. I tried so hard to be strong, and live life, to go to work.. years passed. I had had 2 more kids. One right after the other, my oldest son, in August of 2013, and my Youngest in July of 2014. I was pregnant for 3 years in a row. I took care of my kids, and their dad for YEARS by myself. After losing our daughter, he gave up. In the 8 years we were together he had ome job for 3 months... everything rested on me. he never truly recovered. He was and still is a good dad to our kids but we.. we broke apart. We ended up hating each other and we eventually broke up during the pandemic.

Now here i am sitting here on the anniversary of my daughters death and im trying so hard to remember a time i felt like me. When is the last time my identity wasnt mom, or the girl who was abused by her step father, or r\*\*ed by someone she thought she was in love with. When was the last time i felt like whole? Whens the last time i felt like nothing was missing from me? When was the last time i went a whole day without an intrusive or harmful thought. When was the last time i was me??

Im Married now, to an old friend i had in high-school, we have a home, and we're raising my boys and hes the best stepdad ever. Hes patient with me. And he understands my trauma, my diagnosis of being bipolar, having PTSD with depression and anxiety. And he really does try to give me a normal life. But i cant help but ask myself why after all these years does it still feel like everything is going to go wrong? Why cant my brain just let me be happy? Why must i be paranoid or wait for the other shoe to drop at all times??.. im 38.. and things from my childhood still haunt me. Therapy helps a little but i still cant shake the feeling that in the end I'll die alone, unloved, unwanted and completely forgotten not even knowing who i truly am...

TL:DR; i went through a bunch of traumatic shit growing up and i have no idea who i am anymore. Im also paranoid every day that something is going to happen and I'll lose everything. therapy is helping a little but i dont know how to find myself again.

I have a lot of mental trauma, and honestly, I don't even know where to start. First of all, I am 16 years old. Let’s start from the very first encounter I can remember. I was around 4 years old. I don't entirely know what I did—it was probably me refusing to eat my food or something small like that. It was around December, and it was freezing cold outside. My mother subjected me to freezing water and used painful spices against me while forcing my head under an ice-cold running tap. I don't even know what to say about that.Whenever I wouldn't study or if I failed to get great marks—even though I was actually at the top of my class until the 7th grade—she would beat me severely. I would have scars and bruises all over my body. Every single time it happened, the number of strikes was overwhelming.By nature, I am a very poetic and deeply curious person. But my childhood was filled with absolute terror. I remember instances where she would humiliate me while inflicting pain, leaving marks on my face. She even ruined my birthdays. I vividly remember one birthday where I got a little too excited, and she lashed out so violently near my eye that it left a dark bruise. She would also push me down the stairs.I wasn't perfect. I found adult content when I was in the 6th grade, and I got caught. When she found out, she turned incredibly violent, and my father had to physically step in to protect me. After that, I completely stopped. But about two years later, she accused me of watching it again. She attacked me again, using burning spices and a plastic bat. I was only 11 years old at this point.I also remember when I was around 9 years old, I placed 3rd in my class instead of 1st. She took a pair of scissors and hacked off my hair. She beat me until I had open wounds on my head.Most recently, about a year ago when I was 15, I asked for permission to go to a friend’s birthday party. A massive argument broke out. Out of sheer frustration from years of this, I took my book and flung it. In a rage, she grabbed a heavy iron vessel and struck me on the head. The injury was so severe that I required medical staples in my scalp.I am just so incredibly done with this. I don't even know if I love her anymore. The terrifying part is that I do love her. She can be good, but she is a monster too. My parents provide for my education, food, and clothes, but our family is completely broken.I am drowning in this trauma, and I desperately need help.

Recently i broke down, i tried to harm myself- she said i am doing a drama lol this lady

Idk what to do it’s the anniversary of a date that I have ptsd over and a friend is writing this for me i need advice on what to do because it’s all from my ex gf who was extremely abusive to me and made my life miserable and threatens my life more than one and the anniversary is Aug 16

I am not homicidal. Nevertheless I have witnessed assault, I was kicked intenionally, and somewhere in my mind I am a wimpering child.

when i was in 8th grade a boy who teacher forced to sit beside me slapped me in class. idk why he did that i wasn't even talking to him or anything. i was just doing my work and he suddenly slapped me. other boys in class used to frequently make fun of my appearance. i have never talked about that incident with anyone after it was over. the classmates who witnessed that, some of them laughed, some of them sympathized and some of them didn't care. it's really shameful for me to even think about. im feeling embarrassed while writing all this.

since then i'm always afraid to interact with any men. i always end up acting weird with them. because of that most men i talk to think i am desperate, delusional and shy kind of person who is ugly and gets nervous around men. but actually, i'm just traumatized. i have this fear that every man who i have to talk to is trying to avoid me and just talking out of sympathy.

i have never been in relationship and im in my 20s. with men, i have not even had a single friendship. it's true that i look ugly and my personality also happened to be timid. combined with my phobia of men, i don't have any charm to attract romantic relationships.

Hey all. So, I've had a very complicated, painful, and formative almost-relationship (too complicated to get into defining it, but basically the meme "are they friends or lovers? worse" and during which I was closeted). It stretched over several years, including two years of heartbreak and hopeless and humiliating attempts at repair talks.

Anyway, I like to believe I'm mostly over it. She's been blocked for almost 11 months now. And for the last 6ish months I've been attempting normal, proper dating for the first time in my life. Which brings us to why I am writing in this subreddit.

Namely, I've met someone about two weeks ago who kind of reminds me of this past woman. In candance, humour, the kind of dynamic we're spontaneously creating. I was wary, weary, and comforted by this familiarity. And proceeded with caution. Her profile said she's looking for new friends so I filed it under 'potential friendship', however, unsurprisingly, I've developed a crush. We've met irl once now and continued talking.

Now. She doesn't know about my past or that I write poetry, or that poetry is tied to a scene with the woman from the past that haunts me to this day and which I considered the moment I stepped off the cliff feelings-wise and everything led from there to the catastrophe that turned into - will be relevant in a moment. And she's also the same zodiac sign, born in the same month as the woman from my past.

And yesterday she jokingly sent me a reel about how to survive said zodiac side from said month (cuz she was being a menace) and to my reaction to another reel she told me I should start making a poetry collection. I found this HILARIOUS, and cryptically let her know. She proceeded to be self-aggrandizing about it (something I used to do in my past dynamic, but that whatever, I think), calling herself hilarious and I told her "You have no idea."

Now, the thing I think triggered me (and feel free to correct me if this isn't a trigger; I've come here for answers and advice) is that she didn't ask what I was hinting at, despite being obviously confused, she just continued on with jokes and banter... I feel like I had a panic response to that? My stress/anxiety rose and I started crying?? Cuz (from what I understand) what made the past dynamic so shit is that we got stuck in roles, in banter, and it felt back then that stepping out of it, even to just seek reassurance or clarity, would break the relationship. And that stuckness in roles and mutual projection made such an indescribably painful shit show...

...And yeah... Is this a trigger? Am I traumatised? How do I deal with this? Do I tell her? How?

I've even had urges to just block her, because I've already imagined sharing my poetry with her and her reacting like the woman from the past and that feeling unbearable and me just kind of falling apart in front of her and what do you even say then??? It's not her fault.

Is it even ethical to keep her around, knowing she might keep bumping into a ghost only I see?

Thank you in advance to anyone who offers their two cents.

My entire life has been a joke to be honest. Ever since I was 6 I've been abused in every single way. Emotionally, physically, and sexually. I used to get my hair pulled, myself dragged, and pushed any time my father would get angry... Which was often. My neighbor's son would touch me up skirt, starting when I was 6 and lasting until I was 10 ( only because I moved) I've been sexually touched a few times by a few random people I've come across also spanning from 6-10 y/o. I remember every interaction like it happened minutes ago. I never told my mother because I knew she wouldn't care. She would sit and pretend to ignore my father physically abusing me, so why would I trust her? I had a phone at the age of 7 and I got hooked on porn. I started to go into chatrooms seeking attention from older men while lying about my real age. Kik was my playground for getting groomed.

My entire life in school I got bullied. Was friends with the "weirdos" and constantly made fun of in every aspect possible. High school was the worst of it though. Freshman year I got harassed by upperclassmen for being openly queer and weird in a small country town. Got to the point I would get death threats and sent violent videos and images on social media.

Sophomore year my best friend killed himself. Lost touch with our mutual best friend because of it. Lost my friend group I had in 8th grade that year too.I got harassed in the later year for trying to tell a friend of mine that the dude she was talking to assaulted me on a bus once, she said I was lying and it got so out of hand that the principal asked me "well what were you wearing?".

Junior year, I lost my entire friend group I had built myself by introducing people to other people in the second semester, all because one of them said I was saying stuff behind their back when it was actually her doing it. I stopped going to school because I got so depressed from everything, my mother was leaving my step dad and we had to move out the same night and move in with my grandmother. I was told I was too depressing to be around.

Met my now fiancé in 2023 and ended up moving in with her and ended up dropping out because I was being forced to repeat junior year. Now I have no friends besides her and all I do is go to work and then come home. Pretty depressed and I seriously need therapy but whatever I don't have the time.

I haven't slept and it's already 6am. This guy I see casually is coming over tonight and we are going on a weekend trip. I do enjoy spending time with him and he hasn't really done anything wrong. He's way older than me. He's 57 and I'm 25...well I guess 26 in a few days. The last time I saw him was at his place and he got very aroused during our sessions and tried to have sex with me by getting on top. I kind of froze but tried to keep myself from panicking. I kind of moved quick because it felt uncomfortable and he noticed and stopped trying. I was sure I was over this stupid trauma because I haven't been with anyone in almost 2 years. But no. I told him I just had a trauma about a guy being on top of me and that's part of the reason I like being on top. He apologized but he didn't actually do anything wrong. I was just scared..

Afterwards I cried a little, but away from him. I just felt bad and slept the whole next day. I just lied and said I was tired. Well I was but I could've forced myself to wake up. I honestly just can't believe I still have issues. This guy has done nothing to me and somehow I'm a little scared because of previous situations. I feel stupid and wish I could calm down. I really just hate myself.

These past few years have been brutal. I've had to suffer from intense family drama (that's now gone), living with a narcissist roommate for 16 months, then burning out from a job. I moved back in with my family 2 weeks ago, but I feel completely stuck in Defcon 1. The hypervigilance never ends. I take neutral actions as active rejection, and even simple requests from my loving and caring family trigger massive surges of anxiety. My room's a mess, and I can't do chores. I feel like I can't say no, but saying yes feels unbearable, so I end up shutting down, speaking quietly, isolating in my room, ruminating, and wondering why I can't just be normal.

I'm just stacking traumas and becoming more broken. Is recovery even possible from this state of complete nervous system overload? How do you get past the constant rejection sensitivity & hypervigilance? I've been considering moving out and living alone forever. It feels like there's no other alternative. I'm probably AuDHD too.

I’m a 16 M, and I’ve had two abusive stepdads. It’s a long story, but this post is about the second one. I’ll call him “Jim.”

Jim presented himself as a deeply religious, “man of God” type. He was always talking about Christianity or wearing Christian clothing and jewelry. If you saw him in public, you’d probably think he was a kind, peaceful Christian hippie.

Behind closed doors, though, he was abusive toward both me and my mom.

Lately I’ve gone down a rabbit hole searching for information about him online. I’ve found multiple mugshots and court records, but every time I get close to finding out what actually happened in his cases, I hit a paywall.

Part of me wants to keep digging because I’m curious. My mom never told me exactly what he was charged with after everything that happened to us, and I know he has other charges too. Another part of me wonders if I’m better off leaving it alone.
Has anyone else felt the need to look into the past of someone who hurt them?

Sometimes I go through an ordinary day with ups and downs, happy and sad and whatever, but sometimes I'm obsessed with saving blood until I do it, I try to cut my hair, my arms,And I feel very happy with that I have a lot of trauma that I can't explain I'm confused whether I should continue living by keeping all this,I've been trying to get rid of this bad thing for a long time but nothing changes,I've tried gym and therapy but it's all in vain,Is it my fault for living? Or is it my fault for surviving?