which, truthfully, wasn't fully true
6/6

Also I deleted all the posts from the episode™ last night but I screenshotted the replies and I wanted to say thanks for listening to me during my midnight sad hours ilu guys

Do you ever get relapses kind of where you’re not really suicidal but it’s been the norm for so long that now that you’re in the recovery journey it sounds so appealing but you dont actually want to die, you’re just thinking about the what-ifs and how nice they sound in your mind but not in reality

nacrepearl:

God I am so fucking depressed right now

a fourth option: I am a terrible person

I am so in favor of filming your kids on your phones or cameras or whathaveyou because down the line, they’ll appreciate watching them. My parents filmed me and my brother often with an old camcorder from my birth in 2000 until Christmas 2005. I’m sad we don’t have any from 2006 onward, but there are the rare ones scattered through those years at school concerts and talent shows and field days. I have a bunch recorded on my phone to watch and I just really love looking at them and reminiscing. It makes the distant past still feel tangible enough that I can look back and be like “those were good times” instead of “I’m upset that I cant live that again” yknow

I was 6 years old when I found out that children aren’t meant to be left alone for any amount of time. I was 6 years old when the mandatory yearly check ups and vaccines made rounds again before school started. I was 6 years old, my brother was 3 years old.

I was 6 years old when my mother left me and the doctor alone in the exam room to check on my brother, who was a few feet away with a nurse in the room across the hall getting his weight and height measured. I was 6 years old when I thought I found out that having your private area checked, examined and touched extensively was normal. I was 6 years old when I was molested and assaulted by my pediatrician.

I was 7 years old when I started to exhibit strange behavior. I would stuff my sweatpants with socks until I couldn’t fit any more pairs. I continued to suck my thumb long after it was deemed inappropriate for a child my age. I would place a pencil under me between my legs when seated at my desk and pull it upwards over and over again when the teacher wasn’t looking. I would straddle and seat myself on the top of the child gate and lean forward.

I was 11 years old when they showed us videos about puberty in boys and girls. I was 11 years old when I became the puberty and sex expert. I was 11 years old when I pretended I was clueless around adults, I recognized that such knowledge was too explicit for my age.

I was 12 years old when we switched pediatricians. He was the one who had taken care of me when I was a baby, before his practiced moved too far away. I was 12 years old when I found out I had terrible anxiety going to the doctors office.

I was 14 when they went in depth for sex-ed in school. They explained almost everything, from sex to masturbation to sexuality to giggly middle schoolers with crude senses of humor. I was 14 when I decided I was bisexual. I was 14 when I thought my uncomfortableness in my own body was dysphoria, and declared myself bigender.

I was 14 when I found a vibrating back massager in the house and stole it to experiment with. I was 14 when I had my first orgasm, and I didn’t understand why I felt so disgusting after feeling so good.

I was 15 years old when I decided to try masturbating with my hands. I was 15 when I touched myself once with my fingers and felt sick. I was 15 years old when I ignored those feelings and decided that was just how it was supposed to feel. I was 15 years old when I found out I had a repulsion to men and dicks, and couldn’t find out why. I was 15 years old when I realized I was gay.

I was 16 years old when the memories my mind had suppressed started to come back. I was 16 years old when the thought of a child being left alone with an adult terrified me.

I was 17 years old when my mother came up to me and stated that our gynecologist was expecting a visit within a years time. I was 17 years old when I had one of the worst panic attacks in my life.

I was 18 years old when I went to meet my gynecologist. I kept telling myself over and over and over that he was a cheerful, caring, awesome man; and I am only going to talk him today. He had an amazing reputation in the area he worked, and I trust my mother when she answers my questions about him and the exams. I was 18 years old when I had a conversation with a doctor about my body and exams while I was having an anxiety attack. I was sweating, breathing faster than normal, and the moment we left couldn’t have come faster.

I am 18 years old and I cannot handle anything having to do with my own body. I am 18 years old and panic at any mention of gynecologists or doctors or hospitals or anything to do with medical supplies.

I am 18 years old and have lived 12 years of my life post trauma, and fear that when the time comes to be intimate with my girlfriend, I will freeze up or panic and wont be able to have sex with her when I want to, because some man decided he had power over a little girl and exploited it.

My spotify su playlist is just songs I’d make an amv out of and if i had video editing skills I’d be unstoppable

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So I’m going home for labor day

@senseofenterprise

Since Escapism is coming soon, I want to go out on a whim and say either Steven or Stevonnie sings escapism

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Hiya, I’m Rae! I recently remade my blog and want to try to get back as many followers as I can from my original blog, so a promo would be appreciated! I love SU and am friendly, please don’t hesitate to say hi!