SUICIDAL THOUGHTS: Keep Fighting, Don't Give up!

This was a good video to come across today. I've hit a low point in my life, and I sometimes feel alone like no one cares and there's no way out of my situation. I tried calling a few friends, but they had their own shit to deal with. And I didn't call "S" since my friend is already tired of my bullshit. I didn't want "S" to see me like this. I'm not suicidal, but sometimes it feels so easy to stay stuck and stand still. As a black woman, I feel I have to hold the weight of the world on my shoulders. That's ridiculous. Even Superman needs help sometimes. So if you're going through some stuff, or know someone this might help, check this out:

A pocket full of pennies

Sometimes I've regretted the way that I treated a man. I have to admit that I was often picky about the wrong things, or too quick to discard someone who did not meet some demand that I had. One of those men is Guy. I have no idea where or when I met him, as I was heavily into my sexual addiction, as well as a more traditional addiction.

Guy seemed sweet and nice, too nice at times. Tall, dark and lanky, he was fresh out of a bad relationship with a long-term girlfriend. As things progressed with him, I was asked out on a date to a movie. Thank God my mother taught me the $20 rule. It goes something like this: Always have $20 that you can use to pay your own way, or to leave if you're ready to go. That way you aren't stranded in a bad situation. Guy had brought money to pay for the movie. Just enough in pennies, nickles and dimes to pay for his fare. I let it go. He wasn't my boyfriend, and I could pay my own way. Still I was kind of surprised by that.

Fast forward to later at his house. Guy took me to his house, and after sitting around awhile, decided to make out with me. I acquiesced, and clothes came off. I wish they hadn't. I'm not perfect, far from it But I do enjoy a well endowed man. Guy was extremely under-endowed with a length of maybe, and this is stretching, maybe 2 inches. I had no idea where he thought that would go. I demurred and opted for some extended cuddling.

Sometimes I think back on Guy. A lot of women often want the man who has a promising future, prospects and is a nice guy. However no one wants to put in the work that a having a man like that entails. Take the Obamas for example. When Michelle met Barack, he wasn't a successful anything. He was still trying to get his life together. I have friends that married wonderful guys that were broke when they met them. Sometimes the love of a woman is enough to motivate a man to become more than he is. Not always, but sometimes.

I was so desperate for love back then. Maybe I still believed it was possible for someone to love me, and for me to love them back. My hurt was broken in so many ways by men unworthy of my time and attention. There was no real reason to dismiss Guy, and yet I did. Well he did have a weird smell. But still. Most of the men I have dated have been abusive or violent. Addicted or otherwise unavailable to me. Yet time and again I gave them my attention and I tried to love them, in my own disturbed way.  I'm sorry Guy. Maybe I should have given you a chance and been sweeter to you.

The process

My "process"

Last week, I had access to about 4-5 men daily. Did I have sex with that many? No! But I had the ability to, and if I were younger I might have gone for it. I did in the past. You may wonder, "How does this fat bitch get fucked so much?". Well that's the purpose of this post. I'm going to write a little about how I find men, and what I tend to look for. Even a bit about how I choose a partner. Primarily, I'm looking for a sexual relationship. My life is too busy, and I'm too wounded to do more than have sex with someone at this point in my life. Last night I wanted BBC. For those of you not in the know, that refers to Big Black Cock. So, when I want what I want, and I want it in fast, I turn to Craigslist.

The key is a catchy headline and a concise and informative paragraph. It just needs to be what you are looking for, your stats and any other requirements or turn offs. For mine, I stated that I wanted some BBC and I told a little about myself. Of course, 95% of my responses were belligerent white men and a few Hispanics. But I did find the BBC I wanted and it was guuuud! But I digress lol. I tend to look several places when the 'itch' is upon me.

Depending upon the desire, I may use an ad placed on Craigslist, or I may try to find a man on pof.com. I have also branched out to Adult Friend Finder and a few other sites. Pof is great for cultivating a longer term friends with benefits relationship. For a quickie, Craigslist is the way to go.

Once the responses come in, I first look for ones with pictures. I respond most to clear pictures that do not features penises. Next, I want to know what the man is looking for, and if he can read. If you are a white dude, my BBC ad should have been passed over lol. Unfortunately, as I stated above, 95% of my responses before it was flagged, were white men. For some reason, a black woman stating a preference for black man is responded to with "Why does it have to be about color" and " We're all the same race." No, I do not discriminate, but sometimes I have this need for a man of my own race, and that will not be sated by a non-black man. Once I have looked at the emails with pictures, I read through those without. I have gotten some great responses from a guy who didn't send a picture initially because he was wary of my being either a 'pro' or a bot.

What makes me choose a man is several things. He should make me feel comfortable and at ease. A man who boasts too much about his sexual prowess and skills usually sucks in bed. Any man who is desperate to meet, to the point of hounding me days after I've stopped emailing him, gets blocked. I also weed out Angry Men, and Slut Punishers. If a man spends emails testing me and telling me he is afraid or bitter because of past women in his life, I bounce. Some men are uncomfortable with expressions of feminine sexuality. They may become reticent or belligerent if confronted with the fact that real women fuck. Not just make sweet Victorian (Just lay back and think of England) love, but sweating, screaming, ugly faces fucking. Some feel the need to punish these sluts and it can escalate to violence, stalking or abuse. So yea, I avoid them.

I tend to spend a lot of time emailing back and forth and getting to know the guy. Once things progress this turns into text messaging and phone calls. I may text a man over 70 times and have several conversations before I feel comfortable enough to meet him. The next step, well you read about that all the time on this blog. If you have any questions, respond to this post and I will followup with another post.

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.