I like to peel the dead skin off the bottom of my feet (not to cause pain). I started keeping the bigger pieces in a small jar. When the jar filled up, I didn’t want to throw it out so I donated it. My skin is now in a glass jar on display at the Mutter Museum in Philadelphia. I sent a second jar over there too, as well as my favorite big pieces. As long as I keep filling them up, they’ll keep taking them. Jar is about one quarter full right now.
I don’t think I’ve ever said this out loud before because it’s so damn weird and people might think I’m more screwed up than I really am, but I’ve always wanted to get into a car accident, like the type that gets you hospitalized and severely hurt. Whenever I drive, I just have this urge to drive straight into traffic or swerve into the opposite lane. People think I hate driving because I suck at it, but it’s really because I have this huge urge every time I’m alone in the car. It’s nagging. I’m in college now and I take the shuttle to school, so I haven’t been driving for a month or so, but whenever I’m in a car I still have that craving.
I stole my step-father’s 9mm glock, made sure it was loaded, put it in my mouth, and pulled the trigger. Had no idea that he’d taken out the firing pin, in case one of us kids got a hold of it. My reason for doing it was his molestation of me from the time I was 14 to the time I was 17. I tried telling my mother, but she didn’t believe me. Said I needed to be institutionalized for saying such a horrible thing about such a good dad. So, I thought that she didn’t love me, he loved me in the wrong ways, and everyone at school hated me, so why the hell was I taking up air.I’m better now, but some mornings, I still hear him creeping up the stairs. I live in a completely different town, with a loving boyfriend, but it’s so damn difficult to just let go.
Throwaway, obviously. I let my siblings molest me for 8 years, and I let my close friend feel me up for an hour for about $5 in change. I have never told my siblings I remember, but I know for a fact that they do. That’s it though.
I was sexually abused by my father from age 8-15. We never actually had sex, and he was never aggressive, it just happened. He used to whisper “You feel so soft” into my ear. Now I’m 28…and I always date aggressive, controlling, possessive, violent men. I call them Daddy during sex. It creeps me out but during the moment I just can’t help myself. No boyfriend has ever complained, and if I’m lucky they’ll tell me I’m a good girl. It’s fucked up.
I enjoy dildoing my butt and watching trans porn. I consider my self a straight male and do not want to do anything with a guy.