I'm not diagnosed with depression. I don't take medication for it. But I've been feeling emotional for a while now and I'm not sure how to deal with it. I don't have anyone to tell about this so I'm turning to my blog, clearly. (I don't like how I missed writing a post last month \: )
No one from my real life reads this? At least I hope not. There's a lot I've been doing in the last couple-ish months that I'm not comfortable sharing with anyone, that I haven't shared with anyone except for one person. But even then, I'm not getting comfort or advice.
I made a second Twitter account in I think it was this past June. I created it to be a miscellaneous account, one for my writing and also for some game apps I play on my phone. It was to be an outlet where I could say whatever I wanted instead of using my main, personal account. As the days went on, it turned into an 18+/NSFW account. I hadn't planned for it to become that way, but I reply tweeted to one of Pornhub's tweets and it kinda blew up...I didn't start getting influxes of DMs until a few weeks after though.
Then, I got attached. Quickly. It was the scariest thing that has probably ever happened to me other than experiencing my dad's rage, but maybe even more scarier because it was happening inside of me, not because of an exterior, seeable thing. I told myself I couldn't form crushes on people because they were far away (east coast N. America, the UK, and Australia mainly), but it kept happening: once briefly with one person and now with another person that has lasted since...a month and a half now.
The thing about NSFW Twitter is that time goes very slowly there. I had been chatting with a man for what seemed like months when it only turned out to be a couple weeks. He had that much of an effect on me. Plus, now I've only had that account for about 2 months when it feels like I've been tweeting on it and interacting with people for much longer. I ended up breaking the guy's trust, a silly prank (I thought it was funny, he did not), and we haven't been the same since then. He used to wake me up with good mornings and make me orgasm multiple times gorgeously every time, but it's not like that at all anymore. I inwardly torture myself for a message from him. I've dreamt about him...I don't think he regards me in the same manner.
But there are other guys who probably think about me that way, which is odd because I don't think I'm anything special.
Words can only go so far.
At one point early on in our messages, the guy I've now fallen for told me he can't be with me for emotional support as much as he'd like to be. He said I needed to find that support with other people, to keep up with the relationships I have, to not stray away from reality. Let's just say my reality is really bleak right now, boring, uneventful. I looked forward to talking to him every day. I still do. But I've come to realize I shouldn't. One day we might meet, but for right now, it's just a fantasy. A dream. I'm not reality.
Messaging is like that: you can log out, turn off notifications, ignore. I logged out of my account all day yesterday, checked it this morning briefly because I was really horny, replied to some messages, then logged out to watch porn and make myself cum. I've still logged out.
The thing about NSFW Twitter is that there's always someone. It's worldwide. You say good night to one person, you say good morning to another. I have spent entire days chatting with people before, and that was...Not something I'd do again.
I want to tell my mom about it. About everything. After thinking I wouldn't tell anyone, tonight, as I was sitting at the dining table with my parents, I thought I wanted to tell her. I wanted to cry. Because I was scared what she'd think of me.
I was raised going to church. I was told to always bring a future boyfriend home to meet my dad. I was told to get married before sex. Sex wasn't brought up. Contraception was never brought up. I started masturbating (in secret) with a vibrating back massager when I was somewhere between 10 and 14, and one day I couldn't find it anymore. Obviously it wasn't so secret to either my mom or dad. Yet neither of them brought it up with me or my sister. Like it was a sin to pleasure yourself.
Years later, like only about a year ago, I was going through my mom's things, looking for something, when I found a vibrator in her bedside table. Talk about yuck, but I was shocked. Maybe I shouldn't have been. I may have told this story before but once I asked my mom if she would mind if I dated someone casually. She said no, and that answer surprised me too, because of all the aforementioned at the beginning of this paragraph.
I once also found out she had been flirting with a man that wasn't my dad on one of her free online messaging apps. It was the dumbest situation too: she was in Korea on a trip for a conference and she had suddenly texted me to delete the app from her laptop. I thought it was weird, I asked her why, but she said to just do it. Obviously I got curious so I looked up some messages first. I was so devastated, I cried for two days. What's more, I think my dad had also seen the messages. I don't know what happened after that, but I loathed living with her for a long time. I still do. I don't trust her at all.
She's a woman. Obviously she needed some kind of relief, some kind of pleasure in her life when she didn't have any (really trying not to think about her and my dad having sex, ugh). But she can't bring herself to bring up the conversation with me or my sister. How can I bring up the conversation?
I was trying to think of a way: take her out to dinner and somehow get on the topic? Isn't that kind of weird to do in a public place? Or would it be safer to talk about it in public, because then we'd be able to switch the subject quickly? I feel like being at home would be weirder, since my sister might be around and so would my dad.
That made me feel better. Writing usually does...
Let me know if you have any thoughts about this in the comments. I'd like to hear them.
Thanks for reading.
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