deepundergroundpoetry.com
Just a rant
"What's wrong with her?" No one really knows. She doesn't even know, to be totally honest. Who is she? She's me. So who am I? And what the fuck is wrong with me? I don't know why I'm writing this. I guess I'm just trying to feel OK.
I've always walked to the beat of my own bongo. I've never given a fuck what people thought. I had my group of friends who acted strange with me and that was all I needed. What changed? I have no idea. I'm molded by the things I endure. A little too molded. Being raped turned me into a sexual deviant. Being repeatedly assaulted turned me into a nympho, if that even makes any sense. I'm stuck in this mind set that all I'm good for is sex. That's why I get so obsessive about my body and working out. I can't offer my body if I'm unattractive. I imagine that's where my body dysmorphia came from, causing my anorexia and bulimia.
Why? I just can't accept myself. There are things that I will mentally never come back from. There are scars that will never, ever, heal. When my mom found out I'm bisexual she couldn't look at me for the next two weeks without crying. In that period I began to hate myself. With each time I was sexually assaulted or harassed, I began to hate my breasts more and more, because that was always the main focus of my predators.
I also began to lose respect for myself until it was virtually all gone. I'm slowly working on rebuilding it, but it's going to be a very, very long time before I'm OK again. I'm plagued with anxiety. Incessant, nagging fears. That I'm not wanted around. That all I'm wanted for is my body. It's just gotten to the point where the only thing that soothes my anxiety is sexual activity, or being violent. I thank God for sword fighting and kickboxing. The only way I feel comfortable communicating with most people is by flirting with them. Physical contact soothes my depression, but that makes me seem clingy so I too often just hermit and drink myself into oblivion. I feel beyond fucked up. I feel defeated, and a little destroyed. But most of the time I force my emotions to shut off so I can just be numb. It's better that way.
I guess I'm just rambling. I apologize for wasting your time with this.
I've always walked to the beat of my own bongo. I've never given a fuck what people thought. I had my group of friends who acted strange with me and that was all I needed. What changed? I have no idea. I'm molded by the things I endure. A little too molded. Being raped turned me into a sexual deviant. Being repeatedly assaulted turned me into a nympho, if that even makes any sense. I'm stuck in this mind set that all I'm good for is sex. That's why I get so obsessive about my body and working out. I can't offer my body if I'm unattractive. I imagine that's where my body dysmorphia came from, causing my anorexia and bulimia.
Why? I just can't accept myself. There are things that I will mentally never come back from. There are scars that will never, ever, heal. When my mom found out I'm bisexual she couldn't look at me for the next two weeks without crying. In that period I began to hate myself. With each time I was sexually assaulted or harassed, I began to hate my breasts more and more, because that was always the main focus of my predators.
I also began to lose respect for myself until it was virtually all gone. I'm slowly working on rebuilding it, but it's going to be a very, very long time before I'm OK again. I'm plagued with anxiety. Incessant, nagging fears. That I'm not wanted around. That all I'm wanted for is my body. It's just gotten to the point where the only thing that soothes my anxiety is sexual activity, or being violent. I thank God for sword fighting and kickboxing. The only way I feel comfortable communicating with most people is by flirting with them. Physical contact soothes my depression, but that makes me seem clingy so I too often just hermit and drink myself into oblivion. I feel beyond fucked up. I feel defeated, and a little destroyed. But most of the time I force my emotions to shut off so I can just be numb. It's better that way.
I guess I'm just rambling. I apologize for wasting your time with this.
Published 3rd Dec 2015
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