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Last night I tried to get my boyfriend to kill me.


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I haven't been sleeping much lately.

Last night I was at his house. We had a great date, but when we got home, we tried to have sex and I couldn't. We're on again off again, so this would be our first time since August. We started to, and I just started freaking out and crying hard. But I thought that was stupid so I just turned myself off and stopped crying. Then I punched his wall, which is made of cement, and part of my hand is numb now.

We talked for a bit, then we got a bit playful again. Not in the sex way, mind you. We both used to wrestle a bit, so we roll for fun sometimes. He wanted to show me a choke (which we do often), and while he arms were around my neck I just thought to myself "I could just not tap out and let him kill me." I thought it would be so perfect to just get choked by him, right there. It'd be so easy. I'd sleep, for fuck's sake.

He screwed up his chokes, and instead of being solely blood chokes, he was crushing my windpipe and making me cough, so he kept stopping. When I told him I wanted him to kill me he got all sad.

Then I was up all night. Didn't sleep. Can't eat. Today I just want to fight everyone. Crush, destroy, explode.

I haven't tried to kill myself in 7 years, I don't know what the fuck is happening in my head right now.

My support group doesn't meet until Thursday and I didn't know who to tell. My friends would overreact.

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Whiskey,

That sounds like a lot of complex stuff going on, is it confusing to sort out what might have been happening that night for you? I know that your have a history with sex that includes healthy and some painful encounters that might make sex a difficult area for you. Do you think that possibly a sense of shame or powerlessness was triggered that might have contributed to what happened later?

I can understand a little what you describe, I didn't make any judgments about you when I read the post. You come across as hurting, to me. I hope you feel safe enough to talk about this.

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So I've had a chance to think more about this. I went on one of my 'mental health drives' (I simply find driving to be therapeutic), and today I saw my therapist. Her name is Debbie. She keeps me in check. I ask her opinion of me, and she gives it. I've been in enough therapy with enough different people to know when they're holding back. I think I trust her because she laughs at my jokes. I'm funny, and she can't stay professional forever... hehehe... That and she points stuff out.

I have this thing where I turn off all my feelings and refuse to let anyone close enough to matter. Over a year ago I told my boyfriend that he's the first person I've dated who seemed like a complete, REAL person to me. Everyone else is just a character in the movie that is my life. Really. They're there to fill a role, and when that role has been fulfilled, off they go. Particularly with men. I don't know how to interact in a way that isn't sexual, so I have a hard time interacting and making friends with women.

This man, he's my man. All of them other boys, they're just other boys. They pass the time, but they aren't really something more than just... objects. I hate to realize it, but today I asked Debbie if she thought I felt empathy and had the capacity to care about anyone, let alone men. She thinks I care for some people, but with most men, I treat them as objects. My current boyfriend, previously mentioned on this board as #1 or something like that, is someone I really do care about. I've thought I've felt love before, but looking back, it was neither healthy nor honest. I really do honestly care about #1. We had an open relationship for roughly a year, and in that time I took full advantage of my permission to roam, and I feel guilty about it I think.

It's mostly the contrast between #1 and everyone else. When I'm with him, emotions are a part of it. When something is difficult emotionally, I shut it off. Just blink, breathe, done. Debbie pointed out that not just the act of not crying, but then the wall punching, and then the choking thing, were all parts of my reaction to numb out to the emotions present. I think there's something to that. I'm not used to good emotions, but at this point any emotions, present during sex. It's just not a part of the picture. Debbie says that victims of sexual abuse frequently have the inclination towards a separation of body and heart. I see her because she specializes in treating victims of sexual abuse. Sadly, I made a profession out of the ability to separate the two, but because of #1, it's just too hard to do it anymore.

Today I started crying about what #1 meant to me, and I quickly changed the subject to this boy I recently stopped dating (before #1 and I started dating again). I got dressed today JUST to make him think "omg I should not have stopped dating her," should we happen to run into each other (we broke up because I got all hypo and kept doing weird shit and eventually I just yelled at him for no real reason). AND WE DID AND I LOOKED SO GOOD. But of course, Debbie pointed out, as she always has to, that I had changed the subject from something hard to understand and deal with, to something superficial and 'easy,' emotionally speaking.

I think I was confused and ill prepared to understand what I was feeling. I think I felt guilt for having seen other boys, but at the same time, I think a big part of it was simply the contrast. This man cares about me, and I care about him. I know I do. It's the first time I've felt it.

I'm scared to know what it's like to feel things, and if I'm dead, I won't have to feel anything. I can't think of a better way to die than in his arms. I know that sounds fucked up, but really.

***

Oh, and, thanks for not ignoring me for being quite a bit of a cunt on this board from time to time.

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Whiskey,

Is it possible to revert to some less sexual stuff for now, to train you to be exposed to emotions that come with intimacy, without sending you over the edge? Maybe you need to sort of 'relearn' how to have sex with emotions, and that might involve starting from scratch in terms of being ready.

I am in a similar position to you in terms of being sexually abused and then separating my body and my emotions during sex. This is what I am doing with my fella.

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