Crystal procknows story
So, I’ve had fantasies about being victimized since before I even knew what sex was. I had a fascination with damsels in distress, and always wanted to play games with other k**s where I would be tied up, like cops and robbers or whatever.
And then when I learned about sex, the two things merged. My fantasies became about being ******d and ****d by whoever. Strangers, teachers, relatives... it didn’t matter. Once the internet came around, I would go in chat rooms and talk to guys, usually older men. I’d try to get them to come around and **** me, but fortunately nobody did at that time.
And, if the internet wasn’t available, I would write out a description of myself and what I was into, along with my address, and leave the papers in places I figured men would find them.
When I turned 18, I got my first digital camera, and started taking nudes of myself, and at the time, it was risky enough just putting those online. But of course that wasn’t enough for long, and I would start adding my personal information, and begging to be victimized one way or another. Again, nothing like that happened, thankfully.
Then I met the guy I would eventually marry, and had my first time with him. He indulged my rough sex fantasies a bit, which was exciting for a while, but he didn’t approve of me sharing my pictures or chatting with guys, so I stopped. For about six months. Then started again... same stuff over and over.
My husband was controlling, manipulative, and eventually physically abusive (though I left before that got too bad), and I turned further into the self exposure stuff as a means of escape. Literally. That’s when the begging to get k**napped or blackmailed into leaving him kind of stuff started. And for years, none of that happened.
So, in 2015 this happened:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XaZJFnnstR3IWzN9oVUDWRljGeoaWh5e75olgRJcd2Y/edit?usp=sharing
And then, the next day, my husband hit me. The kind of hit that makes you realize it’s not going to get better and you need to get out or you’ll be stuck forever. So I left.
After leaving him I moved in with my parents, and I went nuts sleeping with as many guys as I could for about three months. And I also ended up getting blackmailed into meeting another guy, and I guess you could call that **** number two.
Those three months were the worst of my life, I was mourning my marriage, I was having flashback episodes because of the **** and the trauma of the relationship I was in. I was suicidal at best. Sometimes just staring at walls for hours, sometimes hurting myself. And of course, having lots of pointless sex.
Then I met my current partner, and fell in love. We were instant, absolute best friends, and he’s helped give me the strength to climb out of that disaster and become a functioning individual. Even in such a way that I know if our relationship ever ended, I would be okay. Our relationship is a constant choice, rather than a necessary crutch like my others have been. It’s something I hope everyone has the chance to experience in their lives.
And yet, I still sometimes fall into the pattern of making photos and videos, sharing information and asking for terrible things to happen to me. No matter how many times I try to quit, no matter the horrible consequences of it, it’s an addiction to something that’s inside my own mind.
The only things that help push it off at times, are being honest about it with my partner, and focusing on the life I’m trying to build and getting better.
And of course, sometimes, some a-hole shows up and tries to expose me to people that I know or try to actually blackmail me into things and... god it’s awful. But I carry on and won’t give up trying to get better.
Anyhow, if you made it through all that, and if you have had similar issues, I would like to hear from you. Because honestly I feel so insanely alone in this struggle, it gets hard to bear. And maybe you do too. Maybe we can help each other?
And then when I learned about sex, the two things merged. My fantasies became about being ******d and ****d by whoever. Strangers, teachers, relatives... it didn’t matter. Once the internet came around, I would go in chat rooms and talk to guys, usually older men. I’d try to get them to come around and **** me, but fortunately nobody did at that time.
And, if the internet wasn’t available, I would write out a description of myself and what I was into, along with my address, and leave the papers in places I figured men would find them.
When I turned 18, I got my first digital camera, and started taking nudes of myself, and at the time, it was risky enough just putting those online. But of course that wasn’t enough for long, and I would start adding my personal information, and begging to be victimized one way or another. Again, nothing like that happened, thankfully.
Then I met the guy I would eventually marry, and had my first time with him. He indulged my rough sex fantasies a bit, which was exciting for a while, but he didn’t approve of me sharing my pictures or chatting with guys, so I stopped. For about six months. Then started again... same stuff over and over.
My husband was controlling, manipulative, and eventually physically abusive (though I left before that got too bad), and I turned further into the self exposure stuff as a means of escape. Literally. That’s when the begging to get k**napped or blackmailed into leaving him kind of stuff started. And for years, none of that happened.
So, in 2015 this happened:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XaZJFnnstR3IWzN9oVUDWRljGeoaWh5e75olgRJcd2Y/edit?usp=sharing
And then, the next day, my husband hit me. The kind of hit that makes you realize it’s not going to get better and you need to get out or you’ll be stuck forever. So I left.
After leaving him I moved in with my parents, and I went nuts sleeping with as many guys as I could for about three months. And I also ended up getting blackmailed into meeting another guy, and I guess you could call that **** number two.
Those three months were the worst of my life, I was mourning my marriage, I was having flashback episodes because of the **** and the trauma of the relationship I was in. I was suicidal at best. Sometimes just staring at walls for hours, sometimes hurting myself. And of course, having lots of pointless sex.
Then I met my current partner, and fell in love. We were instant, absolute best friends, and he’s helped give me the strength to climb out of that disaster and become a functioning individual. Even in such a way that I know if our relationship ever ended, I would be okay. Our relationship is a constant choice, rather than a necessary crutch like my others have been. It’s something I hope everyone has the chance to experience in their lives.
And yet, I still sometimes fall into the pattern of making photos and videos, sharing information and asking for terrible things to happen to me. No matter how many times I try to quit, no matter the horrible consequences of it, it’s an addiction to something that’s inside my own mind.
The only things that help push it off at times, are being honest about it with my partner, and focusing on the life I’m trying to build and getting better.
And of course, sometimes, some a-hole shows up and tries to expose me to people that I know or try to actually blackmail me into things and... god it’s awful. But I carry on and won’t give up trying to get better.
Anyhow, if you made it through all that, and if you have had similar issues, I would like to hear from you. Because honestly I feel so insanely alone in this struggle, it gets hard to bear. And maybe you do too. Maybe we can help each other?
7年前
