Y'know, I think that the warning maybe doesn't accurately describe what I'll be rambling about. I'm hesitating to write this knowing the age rating on my site, so I'm trying not to get too carried away. And it's certainly a stupid idea for me to even discuss this in the first place. But maybe it's to bring some closure since it's something that's been severely affecting me to this day, it's embarrassing to admit it. Additionally, I don't really care about consequences regarding things I willingly choose to write out in public, so I guess I'm ready to have people use anything I say against me.

I've been having fun building my website & having a place to call my own, so it's definitely something positive I experience online. The only thing I was sort of surprised to see was people having long DNI lists for who can visit their website (and I'm not talking about age restrictions because that's common decency, I'm more talking about "DNI if you like danganronpa" or other very specific stuff) which, okay, everyone has boundaries & I have mine as well, but it's gonna be real hard for me to keep track of people who visit my website, to be honest.

Anyway, I'm saying all this because I've been following websites & noticed a lot of them had "proshippers DNI". Now before you say "omgggg don't tell me you're a proshipper you should kys" well, it's a bit more complicated than that. I have too much criticism when it comes to both sides that I really don't want to identify with either labels. Not gonna elaborate because that's not the point of my post. The rule I usually abide to is to look away from stuff I don't like or find triggering if there is no harm, that's how I navigate the web.

So, I think I already mentioned before that I have a large following on social media, mainly Twitter. Before coming here to make a site, I got into a huge controversy where a now-suspended burner account leaked an explicit drawing that I posted on a private account with 4 followers (bad luck, I know. I ain't gonna mention who the characters were specifically, but it involved a teenage girl & an adult man. That already sounds bad enough, honestly.) So I got called a pedophile, a groomer, got thrown misogynistic slurs at me like whore, bitch, slut, being called a pervert with a rape fetish & people telling me I deserved to get raped. Both strangers & people I initially considered my own friends said these things, unfortunately. I didn't really have any way to defend myself, aside from disclosing the fact that the drawings depicted things I went through when I was a child & it wasn't drawn because I found it hot or anything. Like, I was quite literally projecting onto the teenage girl & I wanted to understand what I was going through back then. They didn't care & still called me a predator & a porn addict despite me being heavily sex-repulsed & having no libido whatsoever, like it's medically recognized that my body can't feel anything regarding this & it's not something I seek to "fix" due to my past. I identify as aroace, so yeah. But I didn't really want to explain myself because why should anyone know that stuff. And they still felt comfortable saying I deserved to get raped anyway, so there was no use arguing. (And before someone says things like "ermmmm so what about the time you kicked a puppy 4 years ago you aren't a perfect little victim" no, I'm certainly not perfect at all, never claimed to be & nobody's perfect either. I never told people that they should get raped so I still think it's reasonable for me to vent about things that directly affected me. Oh & for the record I never kicked a puppy. It's just a joke because things were getting a bit too depressing. I only kick human babies, don't worry)

The thing is, I don't expect anyone to care about me or pity me because nobody did in my life, and that's fine because nobody owes me anything. Maybe the adults in my life should've done something to help back then, but my mentality is that if people don't want to help, then you can't force them to & just deal with everything on your own. I got blamed for it, got locked up in my room & beat up for idk how many days, got spat on, got called a slut & a "pig" (I don't know how to express the weight of the word in English, but when said in the feminine form in French it's the same as being called a whore), CPS & the cops came to my house way too many times & absolutely nothing came out of it (for unrelated reasons btw, I wouldn't really call my family a functional one), my mom forced me just 2 years ago into some weird exorcism in a lady's basement where I passed out from excessive blood loss after the lady was shaking like 6 ziploc bags of my own blood in front of my face while saying quran verses because my mom thinks I'm possessed by a demon because I'm still mentally ill & traumatized after a decade. So I just kinda grew up thinking that every adult around me is useless & I'm the only one who can save myself if I choose not to end my life.

So why am I sharing all of this publicly to a bunch of strangers ? Because I don't really care about what happens to me anymore & I don't have any form of psychological help aside from a psychiatrist who changes my pills every 1 or 2 weeks because none of them have any effect on me. Now I just spend my time drinking alcohol whenever I get reminded of my past instead of using art to cope. Why can't I just move on ? I don't know, but I'm still trying. To be honest, I started drawing less frequently after this happened. I've been scared of receiving backlash for drawing anything, even if it's something innocent because it's happened before where people misinterpret my drawings. It's also not a situation where it's like "I'm scared of being called a pedophile" because I know I'm not, it's more like "everyone now knows I've been sexually abused as a child, a 'whore' & I don't want them to bother me about my past". And now as I'm writing this, more people know. Pretty ironic. I find it embarrassing to be worried because it's just Twitter drama to some people, but as someone who has been doxxed in the past for literally no reason, I've been a bit worried about my safety since then.

But also, speaking of using art to cope, that was what my child psychologist told me to do years ago. Yes, even back then it was drawings that "looked like that" because one of the groups of people who ruined my life as a kid were a bunch of hentai addicted freaks & that was my first exposure to explicit content. So I think it's normal that it'll show in my vent art even as someone who's sex-repulsed & hates looking at sexual content. My psychologist saw these drawings & didn't give a shit, she understood where I was coming from & how I felt. She told me that instead of self-harming by going after real life older men then I should just draw the scenarios as a form of harm reduction. I'm a lesbian who's 100% repulsed by men, so it has been extremely helpful for me. But maybe I shouldn't have posted drawings like this online, even on a private account. But anyway, I haven't been drawing much at all in the first place, so it's not something I can worry about.

So why did I title this entry "guilt" ? Because I do feel guilty for interacting with people who would have similar reactions if they knew what I've drawn. I got told that people deserved to know what I've drawn, which I know is stupid because it's nobody's business to know that I went through that shit. But it's still haunting my mind regardless. It's less about what others think & more about how my traumatic experience is now something that everyone knows & associates with me now. So I'll just say that if you consider yourself "anti-proship" & don't feel comfortable around me knowing that I've drawn something like this, then don't feel forced to associate with me. I don't want to make people uncomfortable & I don't want others to get harassed by association with me. Because of my criticism of proshippers I've also been told by them that I don't belong with them either, so that's why I'm just interacting with whoever without caring about the discourse & mostly focusing on if I follow a bigoted person or a real-life child predator, things like that. I don't know why I still feel like I should cater to the ones who said those horrible things about my trauma, maybe I'll figure out the reason why one day. But anyway, I also stopped forming friendships after this & only have a bunch of acquaintances because I don't think I'll ever trust someone after this, so that's why I'm kinda equally friendly with everyone I meet (or maybe a little too distant, actually) If that makes you uncomfortable, please let me know.

Honestly, I should just move on & not talk about this at all, but I need to talk about it somewhere. So maybe now I'll get back to normal.

In any case, if you're reading this & can connect with some things I've mentioned from my past, I need to emphasize that it's never your fault. Ever. Even if you felt like you had control over it, or that you "knew better". Even if you didn't react to your trauma in a perfect or clean way. Childhood trauma permanently fucks your brain & the way you think growing up even during adulthood. I wish someone had told me this before, so I'll keep saying it.

And, since it's important for me to say this, if you somehow feel inclined to mail me words of support/comfort/whatever else, please be at least 18 years old. It's just awkward to have such personal discussions with teenagers. But if you want to send death threats, then age doesn't matter, go ahead & be free to express yourself. I'll just ignore it.

Btw none of this is proofread & I'm ESL, so if I said something weird, then whatever. I'm at a point where I don't care. Peace !!!

Bah, franchement, je pensais pas écrire ici aussi souvent ! J'aurais pensé peut-être une fois par semaine ptdr. Il semble que j'ai beaucoup de choses à dire. Je continue à avoir la tête qui tourne, les nausées restent fréquentes aussi. Un peu comme être coincé sur un navire et avoir le mal de mer, et le seul moyen de s'échapper est de sauter dans l'eau.

J'ai l'impression de commettre un péché en passant à autre chose. Ce que je trouve étrange, c'est que j'm'en balek de la religion, donc je ne devrais pas ressentir tant d'angoisse face à l'idée d'avoir commis un péché. Peut-être c'est moins parce que c'est un péché, mais plutôt parce que j'ai tout simplement fait quelque chose de mal.

Le bien et le mal. Il est difficile de le savoir avec tant de confiance. Chacun a sa propre idée de ce qui est acceptable ou non. J'entends souvent : Ne jamais montrer d'émotion = être un débile qui accepte toute injure, exprimer ses émotions = être un lâche en quête d'attention et de pitié.

Ceci commence à devenir une suite de l'entrée précédente.

Certains disent que je l'ai mérité. D'autres disent que je n'ai rien fait de mal. Une chose est sûre : j'aurai préféré mettre fin à mes jours il y a une décénnie. Maintenant je ne peux risquer que ça se termine encore en une autre tentative ratée où je suis forcée à payer pour les frais d'ambulance, ou de faire du mal à mes sœurs en les quittant de manière brusque. L'âme est défunte et seul le corps prend son temps pour devenir un cadavre.

J'en discute ici car j'ai nulle part d'autre où en parler. Les psys auparavant me disaient tout simplement « bah, c'était pas de ta faute, t'avais genre 10 ans ». Je leur demande si c'était aussi ma faute lorsque j'étais ado, et ils répondent « bah, c'était pas de ta faute, t'avais genre 14 ans » pis ils me donnent une liste d'exercices de respiration pour qu'on passe à autre chose.

On dirait que les psys sont programmés pour être d'accord avec tout ce que je leur dis, que rien n'est de ma faute. Je cherche de l'aide médicale justement parce que quelque chose ne va pas chez moi. Je veux savoir s'il est possible de me racheter, de devenir humaine, plutôt que d'entendre « ce n'était pas ta faute ».

À 10 ans, j'étais douée académiquement. Si seulement j’étais aussi assez intelligente de ne pas tomber dans le piège. Le sale piège qui a anéanti mon âme innocente. Je parle vraiment trop de l'innocence. C'est vraiment dégoûtant de ma part. Je suis adulte, pourquoi suis-je tant obsédée par l'innocence d'une fillette de 10 ans ? Pourquoi j'y pense si souvent ? Ça me donne envie de vomir, mais ça ne m'empêche pas d'y penser, de le revivre sans cesse dans le crâne. Coincée et étranglée, coincée dans une réalité présentement abstraite, concrète auparavant. Ça me dégoûte. Je suis dégoûtante.

Certains seront ravis de me voir écrire tout cela. Je leur fais un beau cadeau en révélant tous ces détails intimes sans frais. J'ai fini par accepter que ceci est l'empreinte que je laisse sur cette terre. Une ******* sordide se faisant passer pour humaine, j'en conviens tout à fait.

J'ai néanmoins un peu d'espoir. La plupart ne veut d'un sale porc, ni d'un chiot lamentable. Je ne reçois plus d'aide, donc je dois apprendre à vivre avec mes péchés sans avoir le désir de passer à la mort, par moi-même, dans la solitude, jusqu'à ce que je devienne pure et désirable. Je ne souhaite rester seule.

Si vous êtes un lecteur qui semble avoir une idée de ce dont je parle, je vous prie de me contacter.

Passons à autre chose. Aujourd'hui, j'ai tout de même fait un effort de manger. C'était de la viande et des patates douces. J'ai aussi mangé des fraises ; c'est mon fruit préféré.

La vie reste tourmentée, mais je ne souhaite faire mes adieux si tôt.

Il est rare que j'écrive sur un ton pareil, mais j'en ai envie. Et dire tout ça en public, c'est humiliant, même si je n'y prête plus vraiment attention maintenant. Je ne sais pas s'il s'agit d'une forme d'automutilation, ou d'un appel à l'aide, ou autre chose de ridicule. Bref, quoi qu'il en soit, on est d'accord que cela ne m'apportera aucun bien. Mais je ne suis qu'une inconnue sans visage, et de toute façon, on souffre tous. Alors je peux dire ce que je veux, non ?

Il est difficile pour plusieurs de se convaincre qu’un événement traumatisant n’est pas de leur faute.

La séance finale avec ma énième thérapeute remonte à environ deux semaines. Je pense qu'elle faisait de son mieux, mais elle ne savais pas trop quoi faire avec moi. Maintenant que je n'ai plus de suivis psychologiques, je m'ennuie un peu. C'est probablement pour ça que j'écris ici.

Je le répète encore une fois : Il est difficile pour plusieurs de se convaincre qu’un événement traumatisant n’est pas de leur faute. J'ai l'impression que maintenant, je ne fais que des excuses. Pourquoi serait-ce traumatisant si j'avais eu du plaisir ?

Le dégoût, ou la honte, vieillir si jeune et régresser à l'âge adulte, l'incapacité à se racheter, une incertitude quant à ce qui m'attend dans le futur, la perte de confiance envers le monde, envers moi-même. La peur du changement et la peur de la permanence règnent ensemble.

Cette femme, elle me donne vraiment la nausée. J'ai le coeur au bord des lèvres rien qu'à la regarder. Son esprit est corrompu, elle est incapable d'aimer. Elle est dégoûtante, dépravée, une vraie ********. Plusieurs sont d'accord. Même sa mère avait honte d'elle ; elle (sa mère) lui avait craché dessus auparavant.

Je peux ressentir à nouveau la douleur du bâton de ***** sur ma peau, une mémoire vive. Je pense qu'il est temps d'accepter que je suis brisée, définitivement, au-delà de toute réparation. Incapable d'être considérée comme une femme ordinaire. Tout a commencé il y a 13 ans, et Dieu sait quand cela finira. Elle avait peut-être raison de me traiter de **** ****. C'était de ma faute, évidemment. Mais maintenant, je ne ressens plus l'amour, donc tout devrait être beau, non ? L'amour intime est un concept totalement étranger à mon monde, à mon essence. Je suis reparée, pure, je ne peux ressentir l'amour. J'ai appris que cela n'était pas suffisant. Je resterai toujours une **** ****. Ma curiosité juvénile a mis fin à mon innocence, et je dois en subir les conséquences jusqu'à mes derniers jours.

Que vous ayez lu cette incohérence jusqu'au bout, ou recraché tout cela dans un traducteur, peu importe, j'ai un message pour vous: Je ne suis pas un être humain, et je ne le serai jamais, même si je prétends l'être. J'ai mérité cette solitude funeste. J'ai mérité cette jeunesse de merde. J'ai beaucoup de regrets, et j'en ajoute un autre en publiant ceci. Je continue de m'humilier, et je vous autorise tous à me traiter comme l'animal que je suis.

Pardonnez-moi pour la personne que je suis devenue.

Hello again !!! I'm trying to pick up the habit of logging random stuff in my life, so here's another post ! It's good practice for writing in English, because I have difficulty expressing myself in English !!! Or just expressing myself in general tbh ! If I described my mood right now, it would be uh, maybe hopeful ? I dunno, it kinda sounds right. Alexithymia isn't very fun to live with, honestly. So I'm forcing myself to use words to describe my mood as a way to help with that, even if I don't understand how emotions work in the first place. Cool !

Anyway, I'm not here to talk about that today. We're talking food now. Growing up, I was Not a picky eater at all. I mean, I still had some foods that I didn't wanna eat, which is very normal (I don't care what people say, I'm NEVER putting lentils in my mouth) but in general, I would eat anything my mother would cook. Or anything in general. I'd eat a LOT. I'd snack a lot too. Sometimes I think about what little Cyanide was eating in a day & I'm like "damn, it would take me like 2 & a half days to eat all that now". I don't really know if I should say what I was eating, because I know that you'll think "well, it's not like you were eating 100 gazillion calories every day, so what's the problem ?" Well, I'm just very short ! So unless I'm a pro athlete who can crush whole watermelons with my fingers, I can't really eat like a horse . Or eat horses. Idk, I don't think a horse would taste very good. What does horse meat even taste like. Whatever, man.

I don't really know why exactly I've lost interest in food. I don't have body dysmorphia or anything like that. Maybe when I was younger & overweight I was insecure about that stuff, but right now I wouldn't think of myself as "fat" at all, because objectively, I'm not fat. I barely weigh 100 pounds now. Thankfully that's in a healthy weight range for my height, but it feels a bit awkward to weigh that little as a grown adult, yknow. I have like, no muscle at all & I'm weak as hell. Even if I was still fat now, then whatever. I'm less focused on what I look like & more concerned about potential health risks when it comes to nutrition. Ok I did say that I don't know why I lost interest in food, but as I'm typing all this I think I know something that definitely contributed to it in one way or another. If you didn't know, I'm a Vyvanse warrior. I'm pretty sure you know where this is going if you're familiar with stimulants.

So I got my ADHD diagnosis late, I only got medicated for it when I turned 19 or something like that. And goddamn it changed my life ! I was actually being productive for once ! And being productive made my brain happy !!! Yeah !!! I was so focused, it was great. Until I realized I lost a fuck ton of weight in barely 2 months because I just couldn't remember to eat. None of my clothes would even fit anymore My parents were always looking at me as if I were a sopping wet stray cat. I just didn't think it was THAT bad. In my head, I still looked the same, so I didn't get it. It wasn't in a way where I was like "oh noooo I'm still fat !", it was just something I wasn't concerned about. Food just wasn't something I'd think about at all until like 2 in the morning when I'd suddenly remember "well shit, now that I think about it I didn't eat anything at all". It doesn't help that many times, there wasn't anything to eat in the first place ! So I'd just end the day with a plain slice of bread, if we were lucky enough to have some bread left.

And it didn't stop there ! I kept losing more & more during the next few years. I even became more picky with what I'd eat, I was way too aware of what I was eating, it would drive me a bit crazy. My little sister's clothes are too big on me now & she's almost a decade younger than me ! I had nothing to wear, even now I only have one single pair of pants that I wear all the time because it's the only thing that won't fall off my waist. My face also looked like a bald cat on heroin. When I took my passport pictures the other day, I was like "dude. who the fuck is that". My eyes were sunken & my mother made sure to point it out aaaaaall the time. I already have genetic eyebags, so I actually looked like a corpse who pretended to still be alive. And if I had 1 cent every time my mother said "rgiga" after I walked past her, I'd be richer than Elon Muskrat ! And this one's obvious, but I'd also lack so much energy. I just didn't feel good at all.

The cycle is very difficult to break. Even now, it's a struggle to keep remembering to eat. And it's even worse when depression kicks your ass all of a sudden. Around a month ago, I went like 3 days without food or water. Or sleep ! During those 3 days, the smell of food was enough to make me nauseous to the point of passing out. It was as if my body was digesting the food just by smelling it it made no sense at all.

Eventually I've been referred to a dietitian because of my shitty eating habits. (tbh, while I really appreciate her help, she keeps talking to me in a baby voice like a vet speaking to a dog & I have no idea if she just talks like that with everybody or if she forgot that I'm a 23 year old human being) So now I'm trying to get my shit together by eating more frequently. And for the first time in a while, I felt my appetite coming back !!! I was eating beetroot earlier & I thought "holy shit this tastes crazy". I'd be ugly sobbing if I was the type of person to cry. I still don't think I eat as much as I'm supposed to, buuuut I've also been eating breakfast now ! I used to never eat breakfast, so I think this is a good improvement. It still kinda feels like I'm eating just because I'm forced to, but I don't expect that feeling to disappear so quickly, so I'll keep doing my best. At least I find it more enjoyable to eat & I'm glad ! My face also looks way better when I eat more. I'm not focused on numbers on the scale anymore since I stopped tracking that stuff to preserve my sanity, but I don't care if I gain weight if it means that I'll get more energy. Like, this is really stupid, but I was thinking "oh shit, I really feel more energetic whenever I eat". So, yeah ! Food is awesome. I just finished eating a bowl of rice & it was so good. I also ate cookies earlier, they tasted great. I wish there were more of them.

But anyway, that's all for now ! Maybe with my energy coming back, I'll want to draw again ! Because I do want to draw, but I haven't been feeling my best lately. Well, I can only keep trying ! Being alive is good. Ok that's actually all for now lol. Peace !!!