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 Posted: Wed Oct 10, 2012 12:47 pm
I honestly hadn't realized sexual assault was so common. I always felt like it was my fault these things happened. I must have been a tease or led them on, to cause them to do things. Even though it's years and years after the assaults, I still feel like it was my fault. That I wanted it. I mean it must be something about me to have more than one guy do it, right? If it was just one, it would logically be his fault, but five or more guys, it must be me, logic says so. I am naturally flirty and naive, so I suppose I led them on. I really don't know.
The first time, at least the first time I remember, was when I four or five, my sister's boyfriend, fresh out of prison, was living with us. He would always force me to sit in his lap, he would kiss my lips, write me letters from prison, etc. I sometimes wonder if he was more interested in me than my sister. I remember one time I went into the laundry room (where he stayed) for some water and he made me lay in bed with him, he pressed against me, towered over me, kissed me, and then we talked. Nothing really more than that, at least that I remember. But it feels wrong and like something else is there but I can't quite reach it, when I think about it.
The second time was when I was around six or seven. But first a little back story, I am adopted but my birth mother and brother were always around. They had attached themselves to my adoptive family like a leach and they were too nice to put them out, so eventually they became part of the family. For awhile my half brother was sent to live with my adoptive family because he was causing trouble in his mother's house. My family raced horses and for a few years we lived on the track, this is when it happened. My mom and dad and sisters were out with the horses the whole day and I was supposed be doing my school (I was home-schooled), my half brother was supposed to be keeping an eye on me. Most of the day is a bit of a blur, bits and pieces come through, but never the whole picture. I remember playing a game, a mix of hide and seek and chase. I remember hiding in the shower room (it was in the far back of the house, had only a shower, was dark, isolated). I remember him finding me, chasing me around the room. I remember being pushed to the floor. I remember him on top of me. I remember his fingers pushing into my panties and touching me. I remember him grinding his teeth and letting out an odd sound as he did. Then it's blank for awhile and then I remember my parents coming into the house and my half brother quickly getting off and getting me in trouble for not doing my schoolwork. I never told anyone in my family. They wouldn't believe me and he is a solider now, respected. For awhile I wondered if I made it up, maybe I was just a sick little kid. But years later a girl who used to live with us mentioned something about him doing 'stuff' to her, too.
The next one happened when I was around ten, it wasn't really all that bad, but paired with my previous experiences, I started to feel like I was broken. My mom's best friend had three sons, but the youngest one was my friend. He came over often, he was perhaps fourteen. He would flirt with me, tell me how cute I looked, how he liked it when I wore pigtails (which from then on I wore every time he came over). He would ask if I knew what sex was. Ask if I wanted to have sex with him. If I wanted to kiss him. One time he pinned me against a wall, but it was cut short. It never really went beyond that because I think my sister or the girl who lived with us told on him, he wasn't allowed back into the house again. I liked him, though. And I liked what he was doing. I don't know why, but from a very young age I have been sexual and I have liked the idea of rape. Not the actual act and not to anyone else, but the idea of it gets to me. Perhaps it has something to do with my half brother, or maybe I am just twisted.
The fourth time was when I was about twelve, my mom had passed away when I was eleven and my dad made it a habit to go bowling every Wednesday since she died. Helped keep his mind clear, I guess. I started to go with him, because I was bored at home. Other kids went, one in particular was a tall and slightly chubby kid, I thought he was sixteen but it turned out he was eighteen. I spent all my time there in the Arcade and he would often come in and talk to me. Sometimes he would watch over my shoulder as I played. He would often 'accidentally' touch my a**, my thigh, my side, my boob as he stood close. By this time I was ******** in the head, I liked the attention, not really the touching, but my family had been psychically abusive so I just wanted to feel loved. I eventually gave him my number, I thought maybe he'd be my boyfriend. He would call me up and say dirty things, it would make me uncomfortable but I just dealt with it. Eventually he would call while masturbating, paired with the more touching when I went to the bowling alley, I finally told my dad and he scared him off. It was the only time I ever told my family about it, but I only told him about the phone calls.
About a year later I found the internet and I started going in chat rooms. I met a guy named "BigHeadTodd', he was twenty three and I was thriteen, we quickly became 'friends'. He would chat to me on yahoo, call me pretty, tell me he liked me. Things got sexual fast, he wanted me to cyber with him, but I had no idea what that was. So he would detail what he wanted to do to me and I tried to play along, but I was always nervous and scared and sick. After a few months he said we were dating and he wanted to come see me. He didn't live super far and he had money, he kept asking for my address and I would make up a reason why he couldn't yet. Things continued getting sexual. He would send me pics of himself naked, his p***s. He would ask for pics of me, I don't remember, but I don't think I ever sent more than a face shot. He become more clingy, more needy, more controlling and demanding. Tried to force and scare me into giving my address. He knew which state I lived in and city, so one day he said he bought a ticket to there and if I wasn't there to meet him, he would hurt himself. I got so terrified that I blocked him. Years later I contacted him, to apologize, I was young and silly, and it was like I had never left. He still tried to get sexual, still said I was his girl, etc.
The last time was when I was sixteen. It wasn't all that bad, but I still felt violated. It was my boyfriend, he had come to visit me, since we had met online. We were home alone and watching TV in my room on my bed and he pushed me down. Started kissing me, rubbing my breasts, etc. Eventually it got heavy and I asked him to stop. Sex scared me. I liked the idea, I masturbated since eleven, but sex in general, with men, scared me. But he kept going and eventually had his bottom half naked and mine too and he started rubbing his p***s on my parts. I hated it, I cried, I asked him to stop. He tried to put it in and that was when I leaped up and went to leave. He finally stopped and apologized, but it didn't help. Funny enough, I was stupid enough to stay with that cheating a** for almost four years (age fourteen - seventeen).
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Posted: Wed Oct 10, 2012 1:03 pm
Ugh, sorry you've had it so rough. Just know that its not your fault. You've just been unlucky to have met so many guys who were willing to take advantage of you when you were in vulnerable states. Assault is infuriatingly common, a good 80-90% of the girls in this guild have been assaulted to some degree.
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THE_FAIRY_EMPRESS Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Oct 11, 2012 3:42 am
ShadOBabe M i n i R e d S t a r s So, I wasn't assaulted, but I think I can classify this as harassment.
Okay. So a friend of mine likes me right? He starts telling me I'm attractive and stuff, and then says he would *cough* root *cough* me.. I told him no.. But he said it again.... HELP! You need to report his actions to someone. If it makes you uncomfortable and they won't stop when you say stop, then you need to get someone else to help. Everything has been resolved now. He has stopped and is happy with a new girlfriend. But if it happens again. BAM. Report.
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Posted: Thu Oct 11, 2012 3:55 am
Ellie the Magnificent I honestly hadn't realized sexual assault was so common. I always felt like it was my fault these things happened. I must have been a tease or led them on, to cause them to do things. Even though it's years and years after the assaults, I still feel like it was my fault. That I wanted it. I mean it must be something about me to have more than one guy do it, right? If it was just one, it would logically be his fault, but five or more guys, it must be me, logic says so. I am naturally flirty and naive, so I suppose I led them on. I really don't know.
The first time, at least the first time I remember, was when I four or five, my sister's boyfriend, fresh out of prison, was living with us. He would always force me to sit in his lap, he would kiss my lips, write me letters from prison, etc. I sometimes wonder if he was more interested in me than my sister. I remember one time I went into the laundry room (where he stayed) for some water and he made me lay in bed with him, he pressed against me, towered over me, kissed me, and then we talked. Nothing really more than that, at least that I remember. But it feels wrong and like something else is there but I can't quite reach it, when I think about it.
The second time was when I was around six or seven. But first a little back story, I am adopted but my birth mother and brother were always around. They had attached themselves to my adoptive family like a leach and they were too nice to put them out, so eventually they became part of the family. For awhile my half brother was sent to live with my adoptive family because he was causing trouble in his mother's house. My family raced horses and for a few years we lived on the track, this is when it happened. My mom and dad and sisters were out with the horses the whole day and I was supposed be doing my school (I was home-schooled), my half brother was supposed to be keeping an eye on me. Most of the day is a bit of a blur, bits and pieces come through, but never the whole picture. I remember playing a game, a mix of hide and seek and chase. I remember hiding in the shower room (it was in the far back of the house, had only a shower, was dark, isolated). I remember him finding me, chasing me around the room. I remember being pushed to the floor. I remember him on top of me. I remember his fingers pushing into my panties and touching me. I remember him grinding his teeth and letting out an odd sound as he did. Then it's blank for awhile and then I remember my parents coming into the house and my half brother quickly getting off and getting me in trouble for not doing my schoolwork. I never told anyone in my family. They wouldn't believe me and he is a solider now, respected. For awhile I wondered if I made it up, maybe I was just a sick little kid. But years later a girl who used to live with us mentioned something about him doing 'stuff' to her, too.
The next one happened when I was around ten, it wasn't really all that bad, but paired with my previous experiences, I started to feel like I was broken. My mom's best friend had three sons, but the youngest one was my friend. He came over often, he was perhaps fourteen. He would flirt with me, tell me how cute I looked, how he liked it when I wore pigtails (which from then on I wore every time he came over). He would ask if I knew what sex was. Ask if I wanted to have sex with him. If I wanted to kiss him. One time he pinned me against a wall, but it was cut short. It never really went beyond that because I think my sister or the girl who lived with us told on him, he wasn't allowed back into the house again. I liked him, though. And I liked what he was doing. I don't know why, but from a very young age I have been sexual and I have liked the idea of rape. Not the actual act and not to anyone else, but the idea of it gets to me. Perhaps it has something to do with my half brother, or maybe I am just twisted.
The fourth time was when I was about twelve, my mom had passed away when I was eleven and my dad made it a habit to go bowling every Wednesday since she died. Helped keep his mind clear, I guess. I started to go with him, because I was bored at home. Other kids went, one in particular was a tall and slightly chubby kid, I thought he was sixteen but it turned out he was eighteen. I spent all my time there in the Arcade and he would often come in and talk to me. Sometimes he would watch over my shoulder as I played. He would often 'accidentally' touch my a**, my thigh, my side, my boob as he stood close. By this time I was ******** in the head, I liked the attention, not really the touching, but my family had been psychically abusive so I just wanted to feel loved. I eventually gave him my number, I thought maybe he'd be my boyfriend. He would call me up and say dirty things, it would make me uncomfortable but I just dealt with it. Eventually he would call while masturbating, paired with the more touching when I went to the bowling alley, I finally told my dad and he scared him off. It was the only time I ever told my family about it, but I only told him about the phone calls.
About a year later I found the internet and I started going in chat rooms. I met a guy named "BigHeadTodd', he was twenty three and I was thriteen, we quickly became 'friends'. He would chat to me on yahoo, call me pretty, tell me he liked me. Things got sexual fast, he wanted me to cyber with him, but I had no idea what that was. So he would detail what he wanted to do to me and I tried to play along, but I was always nervous and scared and sick. After a few months he said we were dating and he wanted to come see me. He didn't live super far and he had money, he kept asking for my address and I would make up a reason why he couldn't yet. Things continued getting sexual. He would send me pics of himself naked, his p***s. He would ask for pics of me, I don't remember, but I don't think I ever sent more than a face shot. He become more clingy, more needy, more controlling and demanding. Tried to force and scare me into giving my address. He knew which state I lived in and city, so one day he said he bought a ticket to there and if I wasn't there to meet him, he would hurt himself. I got so terrified that I blocked him. Years later I contacted him, to apologize, I was young and silly, and it was like I had never left. He still tried to get sexual, still said I was his girl, etc.
The last time was when I was sixteen. It wasn't all that bad, but I still felt violated. It was my boyfriend, he had come to visit me, since we had met online. We were home alone and watching TV in my room on my bed and he pushed me down. Started kissing me, rubbing my breasts, etc. Eventually it got heavy and I asked him to stop. Sex scared me. I liked the idea, I masturbated since eleven, but sex in general, with men, scared me. But he kept going and eventually had his bottom half naked and mine too and he started rubbing his p***s on my parts. I hated it, I cried, I asked him to stop. He tried to put it in and that was when I leaped up and went to leave. He finally stopped and apologized, but it didn't help. Funny enough, I was stupid enough to stay with that cheating a** for almost four years (age fourteen - seventeen). O_O I'm so sorry....
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Posted: Sat Oct 20, 2012 6:54 pm
Abuse... I know it well... Abuse... the touching, the kissing... The pain. The hate. Of the attacker. And of yourself. It consumes you, rips you apart. Violates you. Like that person did. And it's scary. It traps you, makes you think there's no way out... And it changes you.
The first occurrence was when I was... 14. My last year of middle school. His name was Thomas Fagan. He was like me. An outcast. A nerd. Unattractive. Creepy. That kid who sat against the wall and tried to look as small as possible.
I haven't forgotten his face. His hair was an ugly, dull brown. He smelled like a dog--and not a well groomed one at that. He was a large boy, even at that age. His face had enough pimples to look like an alien planet. His eyes were blue. He claimed he had multiple personalities. But I never saw any of them. I think he just made it up.
I felt like I had to be his friend--because who would? It wasn't long before he'd wormed his way into our little circle of people. It was me, him, and about five other girls. A few weeks later, it started.
He started out with suggestions, and talking about the things he had. Playboy. Hentai. That kind of thing--not too unusual for a greasy fourteen-year-old boy.
And then, because we naive and stupid young girls at that point, he started taking advantage of us. Grabbing us from behind. Kissing our necks. Sticking his hand down a shirt or a pair of pants. Stalking.
And then he asked me out. I was sad that I was the only person I knew in school who'd never dated anyone, but he was starting to scare me. So I said no. We were in the school parking lot. He pinned me down to a car. It hurt. My face was against the metal, and my glasses were bent from the pressure. I squirmed. I cried. I said no. He started to feel me. I was wearing a skirt. His hand was under it. Touching me. I somehow found the strength to kick him in the knee. He staggered and I ran.
My friends and I reported him the next day, and he was expelled.
From the middle school. Not from the high school.
He started back up again, not as bad as before, but still terrible. Hugging me. Following me. Watching. Always watching.
He got expelled permanently for gang activity. Go figure.
I still have nightmares about him.
The next incident occurred when I was a sophomore in high school. I was... I think 15 or 16. This one was a girl. A friend of a friend. She said she was a lesbian, and I didn't have problem with it--I try to respect everybody. She took that as an invitation. She invited me to a slumber party. She was nice to me, so I went. I was the only one there. She kissed me. Touched me. Scared me. I locked myself in the bathroom and spent the night there. I never spoke to her again.
A year past. Another young man came into my life. Eric Sepulveda. He was yet another friend of a friend. A year younger than me. We went to Prom together. He kissed me. Several times. And at school... He started grabbing me. Sending sexual texts. Making jokes about me in... Certain situations. I broke it off with him, but he still talks to me. Asks if I've found "someone". My answer is always the same: "None of your bloody business."
And most recently, a few weeks ago. College. My first year. Another friend of a friend. But this one... This one was--is--seven years my elder. Adam Hoskins. A man fresh out of the Army. About a foot and a half taller than me. Chubby. Blonde. Blue-eyed. Bearded. Tall. He started talking to me out of the blue. I was friendly to him, but not overly so. He started getting ideas. Sitting so close we were practically in the same chair. Putting his arm around my waist. Talking about... things. Especially bondage. He loves bondage.
It got worse. Touching. Kissing me on the neck. Biting my neck, my ear... I told him no. Multiple times. He didn't get it. I told him he made me uncomfortable. He said I just needed to get used to him. I told him he was being creepy. He just denied that one flat. What I say to that man doesn't matter.
I tried everything to make him back off, from simply telling him I wanted space to picking my nose in front of him in an effort to repulse him.
He tried... Other things. Until I snapped. I shouted at him. I told him he was scaring me. I told him about my nightmares. The nightmares of him kidnapping me.
He doesn't touch me anymore. But he follows. He watches. He once walked past a class of mine three times within ten minutes, looking at me. Smiling. He still does that. Follows. Like a shadow. Making me feel sick just to see his face...
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Posted: Sat Oct 20, 2012 7:30 pm
Disadvantage of being a woman.
I know it can happen to guys too.
But, I believe the majority of victims are girls.
I hope we are all going to be safe in the future.
Never tolerate.
Never keep it to yourself.
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Posted: Mon Oct 22, 2012 11:02 pm
I'm so sorry for what happened with you,
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Posted: Mon Oct 22, 2012 11:04 pm
Just a minute Is it sexual assault if my seatmate
always holds my hand against my will and sometimes kisses my hair all of a sudden or holds my kneecaps when I whisper some funny things?
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 5:54 pm
Eponine I Thenardier I'm so sorry for what happened with you, Why are you sorry? It's not your fault--it's not the fault of anyone here! It's the fault of those horrible people who think it's okay to use girls like we're nothing! And yes, any kind of unwanted touching or kissing, especially if it's romantic or sexual in nature is sexual assault. Don't overreact just yet, it might be an honest misunderstanding, but if you can, pull away or ask him/her to please stop. If they ignore you and keep doing it, then it's a problem.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 6:07 pm
Eponine I Thenardier Just a minute Is it sexual assault if my seatmate always holds my hand against my will and sometimes kisses my hair all of a sudden or holds my kneecaps when I whisper some funny things? If you don't want him doing it, then YES, it's sexual harassment/assault.
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Posted: Thu Oct 25, 2012 8:28 am
Hello! I wanted to know if you guys are interested in helping me out. I am going to be in the upcoming Miss Maine Scholarship Pageant and my platform that I am going to present is on Sexual Abuse. Anyways, I have set up a facebook page called: VOICE and would like people to like the page and donate to the Childrens Miracle Network Hospital. My main goal is to spread awareness of this rare issue that is never talked about and would like support! Thank you!
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Posted: Thu Oct 25, 2012 9:29 am
It's bad enough when it happens once. It's so much worse when it happens again. After being through it it's heart wrenching to think it has happened to someone else, and will undoubtedly happen to others. I got away the first time, I was held to a wall by two boys, one started putting his hand up my uniform skirt. I meant to sidestep and trip them. Unfortunately...my aim was off and he got kneed rather soundly in the nuts. While he rolled in pain in the mud where I can easily say he belonged his friend jumped on my back while I was trying to run. He hit me a few times ripped my s**t a bit, broke the zipper only skirt, but I elbowed him in the nose and ran into a nearby church. I hid in the bell tower because no one ever went in there. I never told anyone about the incident either. I was only in fifth grade. 11-12 years old. It was horrible but I counted my blessings...because I got away.
When I was19 I was not so lucky. A close friend of mine who was spending the night switched her painkillers with my anti-anxiety meds. Both were generic and looked very similar except for little numbers on them...numbers I have since learned to pay attention to. I felt like a ton of bricks weighted me down. I was never tolerant of painkillers, they usually knock me right out. When I woke up she was touching me and I told her to stop, but she was only rougher. I had bruises all over, my back was bleeding slightly from scratch marks, and the next day when I felt like I couldn't walk, I ran through the rain to the busiest intersection I could find and thought about just running into it.
Perhaps contrary to my unforgiving nature I didn't do it because I didn't want anyone else getting hurt. I was damaged enough in. My mind. I'd be no better than her if I hurt others to get out of my own misery. I never filed charges, it took me more than 4 years to tell anyone. I was so ashamed, so disgusted when I saw myself in a mirror. Anyone can say there's nothing to be ashamed of, anyone can say it wasn't my fault...but it never stopped me from feeling like I was better off not living.
I isolated myself till I was 23. I avoided all contact. But then I started college! I moved on campus, I had friends again, and I was doing fine. Then one winter night, when we had yet another white northeastern winter, two. Boys from the dorm floor below me, grabbed me, just out of view of the security cameras. They were drunk, I could smell it and hear it. One of them put his hands up my shirt and into my pants while the other covered my mouth and restrained me. Right there...In a residential hallway. Then they just left me there crying behind a door. I did report it this time. When I went to security I saw what security could see. A girl walking down the hall looking for her room key and pulling out a buck for a snack since she would be up late studying...just walking, then two boys behind her just pulling her behind a door. I could see their backs on camera...that's all they could see. Identifying them as easy. Like a huge snapshot in my mind. I said I didn't know their names but I would know their faces anywhere. The boys in question verbally harassed me on a regular basis.
They handed me a from residence book and asked me if I recognized anyone. An RA already had a bad feeling he knew who it was and watched me flip through the book till I felt that urge to vomit. I pointed to their pictures and it was exactly who the RA expected. They received a fine and were allowed to remain at the school until I filed charges.
Court was a nightmare. That any lawyer could say the things his lawyer said about me sickens me. THIS I told myself, was why I didn't report it in the past. I was a tease...a slut...maybe I was asking for it...I was the victim...but it was my fault. The bravest thing I ever said to that man was. "I said no. I told him to stop. And no one, regardless of what they look like or what they wear asks to be violated and sullied."
I've been told my reactions to any act of cruelty, deception, or abuse is dramatic, I've been told I tell tall tales. I've been told that I'm a drama queen looking for attention when I get upset when someone jokes about rape or abuse...but it's different when you've been there.
You never see the world with innocent trusting eyes again. A part of you never recovers. You learn to pick up, you may one day forgive, but you never forget. Someday, your tragedy might well help another wounded person. I would have given anything for someone to be there when I sat in the ran looking for speeding cars that I knew wouldn't be able to stop. I'm glad now that I didn't end it. Someone to sit, listen, and maybe just smile sadly and say, I know...
That's what I can be now from it. It's sad that such events are what make us stronger, braver, and wiser...because the damage that makes us such is beyond what any words can describe.
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Posted: Thu Oct 25, 2012 10:29 am
Wao girls... I knew I wasn't alone but I didn't know it could be this bad. For five whole years I've had a hatred of all males but now I've gotten over it and learnt that it's only those disgusting ones.
I have a bit of a warped my mind from my experiences... okay maybe not a bit.
A lot of times whatever I think scares me.
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Posted: Sun Oct 28, 2012 1:19 am
I'm not going to delve deeply into my story. There's just so much.
Never had a father figure- mine ran away when he found out I was gonna come along. When I was 3, my mom let my step-father move in with us. He kicked me in the ribs when I was colouring with crayons in a corner.I told my mom, she shrugged me off. My cousin tore him a new one. He had it out for me ever since.
As I grew up, he became worse. I didn't know, but he was a meth user and insane drinker. I would be beaten every day.. a little girl of 5. One time, my mom and him were fighting, I woke up.. he scared me so badly, I peed. Then he.. forced my face through it, like a puppy needing housebreaking. Then threw me outside. That one tore my family in two.. and so on it went.
When I was 8, we moved to Terrace. I was petrified- my family kept me safe.. and as I found out last year, we weren't even wanted. Only my then-baby brother was. We went, but my grandfather kept me safe.. save for the daily beatings, which became with handles, pots and pans, and stuff.
Just before I turned 10, he died. I was away, but brought him a rose.. and it came back, torn up. My stepfather destroyed it. I hated him, but introverted into a nerd. Music, books,games, art- you name it. One by one, each was taken away. It was at this point.. it happened for the first time. It was.. terrifying, being.. tied to my bed with duct tape, having my clothing ripped off.. I could smell blood, feel extreme pain all over..and I was left that way until I was drug up at 6AM by the hair for a bath before my mom got up.
This degenerated into sadism. I was turned into a slave/maid. Soon I went to school covered up year-round, makeup and long clothes. I was forced to do well in school. Anything under a B got me whipped. Yes, whipped. With a belt. We had a shed only he used.. and he had it soundproofed and turned into his "area." I remember the day he broke all my fingers and destroyed my instruments.. because I won an award for my flute playing skills.. I never played an instrument again.
Once I hit 11, the torture eased off. The hospital trip while on vacation was enough for him to smarten up. I was.. prostituted at 12. I was passed around to people he associated with.. gang-raped virtually every weekend. I tried all along to speak out.. nobody heard. My mom cut herself, she was the same as me. I started attempting suicide..
Then I hit meth, and all hell broke loose. I was left for dead after the time he beat me.. because I told him enough was enough. I was left.. at an asylum, and I will NEVER talk of my time there. It wasn't questioned because of my time in psych wards. People thought I was clinically insane. Eventually, at 14, I was okay, and let out.
I moved back to my mom.. she left him. He was charged with so much, but.. he vanished. Just- gone. I lashed out.. beat people, stole, destroyed my body with food.. just- I was terrible.. but I met this councilor Greg, and we.. started making me livable again. He followed when I moved back to Surrey, and he got so much done for me.. for my family.. we owed him the world.
I'm 21 now, and livable in society. I have Borderline Personality Disorder, extreme social anxiety, dependent disorder.. and some histrionic. But, you'd never know. I have a boyfriend of 4 years. Dramatic years but we're good. I get better every day. I take a lot of medication, see therapists twice a week, go to group therapy once a week. I'm ready to join the workforce. I finished high school. I write, meditate, walk a lot, draw when inclined.. I got my body under 300 pounds (at worst it was over 450, maybe 500) at last. I feel normal again, but.. it's unthinkable, how bad people really are.
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Posted: Mon Oct 29, 2012 8:00 pm
You really had it terrible, I'm so sorry for it. But we are here to comfort you.
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