When I was a kid, I experienced something that really shocked me. A man I trusted, not a relative, but definitely someone I trusted touched me. I was smart enough to stop him right before anything worse happened. I told my mother immediately, but she only told me to take a shower and that it had all been my fault because I didn't stay right beside her. She also said I provoked it and only yesterday, seventeen years after all this happened, I understood the difference between having provoked the situation and being provocative to that man.

A few years later, someone I thought was my friend drugged me and had sex with me. I couldn't tell anyone because I feared they wouldn't understand. But all those years I took half the pharmacy to try to kill myself. Until my mother found out that I was having sex with my boyfriend and I wasn't able to keep everything that had been causing me so much pain.

Sometimes I think there is no point in remembering all these things that happened to me or trying to explain why I do what I do. The fact is thta for the last thirteen years I have had sex only when I feel lost, when I'm sad, when I feel like a burden to my family and when I have lost all faith. Only once have I had sex being happy and in love. The rest of the guys I didn't even like, but I knew they would be there for my purpose: to have sex just in order to forget, maybe to feel alive and maybe even to punish myself once again.

And this has led to endless problems with my family. They are so conservative, that they say I should leave the house. And I wish I could, because I have been nothing but trouble. I can't even find a job! I have punished myself with self-injury, I have been to therapy, I have tried to pray harder and harder, I have tried everything. I also could stop having sex for seven years, until I fell in love with a man and just when I felt that the end was near, I slept with him. But I had to tell my mother, because I can't hide those things from her. It's like guilt forces me to speak, like I'm unable to hold my tongue. I feel so desperate, so guilty, so ashamed, I sweat cold, I tremble and then I say what I've done.

And I only need a hug. When I'm happy, when I'm in good terms with my family, of course I get aroused, but I know there's more to love and happiness than sex, so I just enjoy the good things I have without seeking love or sex. But when everything is going bad, I instantly look for someone to have sex with or flirt with any other guy.

And everytime I end up feeling empty, nauseated, guilty and lost again. I despise myself. I don't even enjoy sex. It's not like a good memory of a good time. It's all blurry and I always ask myself why I did it if i knew I was going to regret it.

I hope someone would give me some advice. Thanks for reading this thing i can't tell anyone else.