Real rape

I had decided to stay out of the rape debate currently happening because I have an actual personal stake in it. Anything that triggers me to go batshit crazy and takes me back to that hopeless feeling is to be avoided at any cost. Except now. I get steamed when people feel the need to distinguish between rape, real rape and rape rape. What the fuck is "rape rape". Is it like "sex sex"? Seriously people, grow the fuck up.

It stings a little when people try to speak on behalf of rape victims, and presume to know what they want most. Especially if they've never been through it themselves. My heart goes out to those who've gone through rape, especially those who conceive as a result. I've been there and everyday I look at my child who looks so much like the rapist who helped make him. Friends and family played the it's not "real rape" game with me, and told me to get over it.

Everyday during that pregnancy I felt like I was imprisoned in a cell made of flesh. The only way I got through it was with a lot of denial and dissociation. So for people to actually play this game of semantics gets me hot under the collar. Bravo Donors For Boners for taking on this issue. And for the record, garlic makes vaginas cry too (read the post, it makes sense)!

Sex addiction as a form of self injury or harm

When you think of self-injury, you tend to think of emoish teen girls cutting themselves. Or maybe binging and purging. You never think sex. Sex is supposed to be about intimacy or bonding oneself to another person. Can you use sex to harm yourself? How can something that's supposed to feel good hurt so much?

I finally realized some things about myself. I use sex, especially unprotected sex that leads to multiple pregnancies. as a way to hurt myself. I feel better when I'm bogged down in another crisis pregnancy, or trying to decide what to do. It's an opportunity to care for myself and find attention. I can show myself the attention and caring I never received during my rapes or abuse at home.

There have been many times where I had sex to the point of pain. Then had more sex to further irritate myself. This week I had so much sex that it hurt to even sit down. I can masturbate for hours, even after my clitoris burns. The way that I have sex is in itself, very harmful.

Usually, I perform oral sex on a man, while minimizing his chances to touch me. Once he is hard (if he didn't arrive that way), I will get on all fours with my face touching the ground, and push my ass towards him. When he's in, I encourage my partner to act 'abusive'. I will tell him to call me names such as bitch, whore or slut. Another biggie is to make him pump me as hard as possible, even if it hurts. If the man hits me, I become very aroused. To just thoroughly abuse and misuse me during sex.

I've managed to restrain myself from asking to be held down or forced. I've really wanted to ask a man to force me to take his cock, but I'm scared of the reaction. Many guys might be scared they'll be accused of rape, or wonder about my mental state. But sometimes I want to. Instead I allow any man who looks good to lay on top of me, or push me up against a wall and pull my panties down. I even let some of them cum inside me.

Even though I want to avoid diseases and pregnancy, I feel better if I let them unload inside me. I feel degraded and like a true whore when a man's semen is running down my legs or pooling in my panties. Because of health issues, my choices of contraceptive are limited to polyurethane condoms or spermicidal. When I become hypomanic, I don't take care of my sexual health the way I should. It's easier to ignore it, or it doesn't come up. 

When I'm manic, it's like my mind is on fire, but I don't notice. I just flit from thing to thing, never lingering for long in one place. It's hard to remember birth control at those moments. My attention tends to be focused on my family and on really stupid shit. Many, though not all, of my pregnancies were conceived when I was either hypomanic or acting out sexually because of my addiction. Once I come down from that, I have to face the consequences of what I've done. I think I even conceived once while selling myself. Selling sex may be another way I abuse myself. Forcing myself to be with men for sex confirms how I feel about myself. I put on a brave face, but inside it's killing me.