Hi there - Fapstronauts, fapstronauts, and others who want to "self improve", be "better" version of yourself and those who want to find the way in their life. People who are unhappy are welcome as well. I want to share something with you. Something very personal about me. Something that only my therapist knows about me. Who am I? I was told what my name is. I was told that I am a boy. They taught me the colours of this world and the world of their colours was right here in front of me. They said my eyes are green and my hairs are black. I don't have my favourite colour. They taught me about sizes and shapes, so I know I am tall. They taught me how much is enough. What it is too loud or too quiet. What is the right amount of everything and where is my place on their scale. I believed them. When I was a kid. My parents said many things to me. I was stupid, sometimes retarded. I just didn't fit. I wasn't good enough as my cousins even if we had the same scores at school. I wasn't good enough. If the belt could be a question, my tears would be the answer. "I believed them. Do you know that feeling in your stomach, that tension? Feeling guilty all the time, like something will happen very bad to me. Well, one day I was going back from school and didn't want to go home. I was afraid of something that I don't remember today. Behind me, there was a car, random women going somewhere. I entered the road because I wanted to die. Someone informed my mom, she appeared in a few minutes and was crying and hugging me, saying that everything will be fine. I was nine and asking myself in the ambulance where is my right shoe and what if someone will find out that it wasn't a car accident. Ten years later I said them the truth. They didn't believe me. We are moving out. My parents have found a better place, 2 km far away from the previous — new school and new people, but only for three years. One evening I went to my dad to hug him before I go to bed. My dad said I am too old and maybe gay? I was ten, maybe 11. I didn't know until that moment that hugging people is making you gay. I didn't know what is gay. There was something wrong with me. For the next ten years, I never hugged anyone. I believed them. One day I told my dad about some of my scores from school. I had 4+ ( it means you are good), 5 means you are very good, and 6 makes you special. He asked me why not 5? When I got 5 he rarely asked me why not 6, maybe I never supposed to be special. My seven years older sister - she meets a bad guy. She got addicted from amphetamine. She runs away; no one knew where she was. Police, detectives, tension at home, I was like a zombie, I don't remember to much. I was away. I was going to school but didn't enter the building. I was sitting somewhere on the bench all day. They find out about my missing days. I didn't want to talk so my mother went somewhere so my dad could talk to me. If the belt could be a question, my tears would be the answer. My parents sent my sister to an addiction centre. We visited her once when I was 13. I wanted to scream but felt nothing. I didn't enter into the building. My parents have found a better place, 750 km far away from the previous — new school and new people, but only for three years. A new place for my sister so we can have a fresh start. My parents spent too much money on the house — problem with finding a job. No job, no money. My sister met a guy from a dysfunctional family and got pregnant. I spoke to her only a few times in the last 17 years. She has three kids. Sometimes I forget her kids' names. Three years passed quickly. My parents said its time to come back. My parents have found a better place, 750 km far away from the previous — new school and new people. High School. I was living in my grandmother place — some stupid rules. Over there, I was told that teens magazine "Bravo" is the gate to hell. Did I mention that my mothers "family" is an ultra Christian family? I was there a few months before my parents found/ buy a flat so we could move in. I had hope that finally, everything will be fine. Two and half year later I wake up in the hospital because I wanted to die — one more time. Yesterday I was at my parent's place to take some of my stuff wichs is still over there. I took my photos and CDs. I watched videos from our prom. Well, I am not American; we had kind of at the end of high school. Prom/ party supposed to be always 100 days before final exams so you can go to university. I watched the video; there was a girl with who I was in love. But too shy to ask her. The strange thing is, I was in the hospital between the first shoot of video ( us sitting in the classroom) and the party a few weeks later. It's strange that you look at yourself, you know what will happen in a few days, but that 18 years old guy he didn't decide yet. A few days later, he will wake up in the hospital because he will overdose Xa..x with 50 pills. At the hospital, I woke and saw my mother sitting next to me and crying. We cried together. A few days later my dad came and said: "mom asked me to talk with you". I told him" " Your son wanted to kill himself, and you are here because mom asked you to do so?". A psychiatrist from the hospital asked me if I want to try to kill myself one more time. I wanted to leave that place, so I said "no". He said, ok. And I left the hospital after a week. And then another video from the party where I am, well I am over there "happy". I looked happy. At the end of the video, there is a song " we are the world" and faces of all of us ( everyone looks pissed of). I don't feel like I am the world. " We can't go on pretending day by day". Well..... I don't believe that we "can't". In the meantime, I have found an online forum created to support people who want to commit suicide. They support people, so I started to talk to them. There was a guy ten years older than me. He was kind; he was supporting me and one day he invited me so I can meet others from the forum and have so fun. I noticed that many people from that forum knew him and respected him. I bought a ticket and spent all night on the train. I went over there for the weekend; I wanted to relax before final exams. The first night we visited someone's place. A lot of people I drunk some alcohol and smoke weed for the first time. I got feeling like my body was in the fire. I was taking drugs prescripted by the doctor. That guy he said he would help me that evening. He took all of my clothes off. I didn't know what is going on. I was confused; maybe I was gay. I liked that he supports me. I just had hope that he will not touch my body. Today I know that I wasn't the only one. He just liked 18-20 years old, skinny and young-looking guys. Today I know I was raped. I only mentioned that to my therapist. Following 13 years of my life? I didn't pass the final exam at first try. A few months later tried again and passed. I went to university three times but never finished. In the meantime, I had anxiety. When the professor asked me something I could answer anything, my body was shaking. I couldn't show up on the university; I felt everyone's eyes on me — kind of social phobia. I started dating gays. I was sure that I am bi or gay. Dating? I was looking for sex online. Safe sex? Well, testing for HIV and other tsd was traumatic. After the last sex, I have done test few times every few months to be sure. Sometime later I meet a girl. We have been a few years together with a few breakups. Sex was a nightmare. I had a problem with erection. No intimacy between us. We broke up. I have found a job - You will travel a lot, my "future" manager said. Three months later, I end up in South Africa and spent there six months and didn't want to go back to Europe. In the last six years, I was in almost every country in Europe. Jumping from one city to another with small brakes. In the meantime, I went to therapy and worked on my toxic relationship with my parents. I rented a flat and moved out of their place even if I was at home like two months total in one year. I needed my own space. Strange thing. That girl I was with. After we break up, she started dating girls. She was sure that she was lesbian; she was sure it was her fault. She told me that she was molested as a child by adult women. I never told her my story. I never said to her about seeing gays before we meet. We spent together last new year party, just talking. She said that she never was lesbian, now she is dating only guys, she became an alcoholic and that she loves me. We didn't speak to each other after that. It just happened. I meet some prostitutes. Didn't have problem with the erection as at that moment I was trying nofap. After ten days, everything started to work over there correctly. My first real "sex" was with the prostitute. Last three years I travelled too much because of my job. I got 30 years old, no proper education, savings, my health was terrible and still is. Last two year, I started to smoke weed. Even the risk of drug test and losing the job couldn't stop me. At the beginning, it was occasionally. Last six months before I quit the job, it was every day. I quit my job in September; I could not live like that anymore. Then the first month at home, I was just smoking weed, watching pornography and over and over again. Last days I smoked 5 grams of weed per day. I stopped smoking weed, and depression came out. I visit a therapist every week. My depression is lower every day because of the therapy. Today, Two months I didn't smoke weed and didn't think about this during the day. ---------------------- Today I know that my problem happened many years before I was born. My mom, all her life was treated like a piece of shit by her family. My dad was 10 when his mom died; his father was to sick to take care of him and his siblings - he ended up in a childcare home. He is emotionally cold to everyone. But I remember the moments when he smiled to me. Some years ago, my mom said to me that she knows that she put a lot of stress in my life and apologized to me. She grew up to be a mother. Better late than never. She is supporting me, but I never said to her all the stuff I wrote here. Some years ago, my dad started to say things to me like " I am proud of you or I love you". Our relation is not the best one, but still better than nothing. Today I know that I count on my parents. I love them. It is not easy. They argue a lot. I say to them " I love you both, I am not part of your problem; you need to find out by yourself. But remember those years are your last ( my parents are old), so don't waste your time". I looked today at photos from my childhood. I look happy, but I don't remember those moments. There are somewhere deep inside me. Last years I had significant anxiety. I have a problem with eating in public places; my hands shake a lot. My body starts to shake when someones is cutting my hair. But( because of therapy ), I can deal with it much better than in the previous years. My therapist asked me to make a test recently. The last Wednesday, she said about results: Emotional Deprivation, Social Isolation/Alienation, Mistrust/Abuse, Insufficient Self-Control and Self-Discipline, Negativity/Pessimism, Emotional Inhibition. We will work on this in the future. You know, even if I am depressed I don't want to die. People want to die, not because they want to die, but because they want to take away their pain. My pain turned into emptiness. It wasn't easy to write it and share it. I took a few days to write that. My biggest success? I finally have found out that PMO is not a problem; it is a symptom. I feel like I overcome PMO the same like a weed. Even if this is the second day, I had the same feeling two months ago when I stopped smoking. I remember when I said to my self: "just because you want it, doesn't mean you need it". I just got that same feeling like I don't need it anymore. I started my own reboot Log https://forum.nofap.com/index.php?threads/the-only-reality-is-now.259041/ Wish me good luck!