My security blankets have disintegrated from years of being threadbare and worn...

This isn't good.

After almost a decade of fighting back my homosexual urges with various defense mechanisms and coping methods and fleeing maneuvers, the only thing I have to stop myself from getting in a cab right now and going to a gay bar or firing up a gay app on my phone is sheer willpower.

I've fought it with the same basic set of tactics for so long now. Being a member of what some identify as "the bear community" I would do everything in my power to stop myself from considering myself to be attractive to that aesthetic, whether it was shaving my beard or goatee off (as they are widely considered attractive in the community) or simply letting my hair grow out (shaved heads or buzzcuts have similar connotations with the beards) I've completely run dry of my options to fight these horrible, horrible urges. All I can do now is jerk off the thoughts until they go away until they come flooding back like cancer.

I don't even know why I'm posting this. I'm becoming the person I hate the most, the person who started all of this shit. I don't want to be that person. I am not that person. I'm a better person than him and although he may not be a part of my life anymore he might has well just killed me a long time ago, but his sadism knows no end and leads me into more suffering. I have a disease given to me by a sadist. I don't want to pass that disease.

I want the cure.

 

Re: My security blankets have disintegrated from years of being threadbare and worn..

It's not being gay that's bad, it's my being gay.

 

Re: My security blankets have disintegrated from years of being threadbare and worn..

Because it isn't fair, I'm different enough already without having to squeeze my way into another 'out of the ordinary' clique.

 

Re: My security blankets have disintegrated from years of being threadbare and worn..

Because it's not fair. Two hundred thousand years of evolution, ten thousand years of recorded culture, two thousand years of scientific evolution and medicinal progress and we still can't explain why homosexuality exists. It isn't fair. I'm different enough as it is. Everything I ever did got me beaten up in the playground as a kid and I never asked for this, there should be a scientific way of explaining it but there is not.

It developed late in my life and I firmly hold the belief that it (my latent homosexuality) was planted in me at the age of 17 by an enemy of mine. An enemy who has long since fled this part of the Earth, probably gone on to infect others with his posthypnotic suggestions, he's probably on some far corner of the world right now doing the same thing he's always done: planting the seed of doubt and confusion in another for his own twisted amusement and then blaming it on the victim. He's a sadist, a rapist and he victimizes himself with his lies and his stories he weaves from thin air.

I am a victim of his. I became what I am because I met him, because he was the one person I ever knew that was smarter than me. Everywhere I go I've either met my match or inferiors, but this guy was the one person who was smarter. But he wasn't better. He had to infect others with his misery. A poser who only knew how to get his rocks off by doing this to me and people like me.

It isn't fair.

 

Re: My security blankets have disintegrated from years of being threadbare and worn..

That's what everybody here says: "Get therapy, get therapy, get therapy," I don't believe in psychotherapy. I was molested by a female social worker "therapist" when I was 13. You wanna know what she did? I'll tell you:

I was an overweight child and she grabbed me from behind when it was my turn to talk to her and jiggled my chest saying "You're a fucking fat little faggot!" and proceded to ridicule me for a few minutes, knocking me around. Then she told me nobody would believe me if I told them about it. I ran out of the office, she tackled me and she told my father I "was trying to hit her." She's still in practice and no one ever believed me.

So yes, you could say I don't want therapy based on that. I want medicine that will turn my sexuality off and eventually destroy it.

 

Re: My security blankets have disintegrated from years of being threadbare and worn..

Female authority figure. I wrote about it above.

I was 'infected' by posthypnotic suggestion by a sociopath many years later whose only goal was to ruin as many friendships and as many lives as he could in the process. I thought he was my friend when in reality he was nothing more than a parasite who leeched off me and my real friends and tore apart our circle from the inside. He was gay, he had this idea that everyone should be gay, that if everyone was gay there'd be world peace or something-- he used his overwhelmingly charismatic presence to post-hypnotically implant ideas in me and my friends, which tore us all apart.

It left me feel confused about my sexuality, it tore apart a friendship between my real best friend and it left me a wreck of a human being. I don't want to be gay based on the monster who made me the way I am.

 

Re: My security blankets have disintegrated from years of being threadbare and worn..

From what I understand there are many forms of hypnotism, and the kind he might have performed was the kind I have been programmed not to remember. I have not considered seeing a hypnotist, as from what I understand so-called "professional" hypnotists are nothing more than snake charmers who dabble in Latin and other dead cultures. I'll have to look into a trip to the city or upstate New York if I'm going to find a 'real' hypnotist, but because their profession falls under 'therapy' you understand my reluctance. It's a fooled me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me thing. But ultimately absolutely I do believe this person in question used some sort of unsavory method to plant an idea in my brain which has brought me to where I am. And I hate him for what he did to me, my friends, my family. My life was stolen from me by him and I was given something I never wanted. He made a choice for me that no one's not suppose to have.

Promises mean little to me these days. What I've seen and had done to me in my life are experiences enough for me to shake with fear at the very thought of even sitting in a therapist's waiting room. My hatred for them and their archaic quasi-religious profession is a perfect hatred indeed. I will never trust another psychotherapist for as long as I live, and I look at them as nothing more than what they are: Glorified philosophy majors who graduated from community college and got a 'degree' through the Universal Life Church. I may be an intelligent and wise adult, but I am not strong, I'm strong enough to know I'm not strong, I am riddled by crippling anxiety and horrible mood swings. I am a schizosexual designed by a sociopath who ripped my world apart.

No, I firmly believe that this person used a power, whether it was hypnosis, suggestion or even black magic or the dark arts, I hold firm the belief I was not born a homosexual. It's the only thing that helps me sleep at night. He didn't open any door, he took a sledgehammer to a wall and made one to a room of his choosing. I resent him, and I blame him for every nanosecond of confusion he has brought me. If I believed in God, I would perform a coat-hanger abortion on the Virgin Mary and rip the unborn Christ child out of her womb to undo the damage this man has done to me.

 

Re: My security blankets have disintegrated from years of being threadbare and worn..

Well no, I don't think there is such a thing as "literal hypnotism," or rather "practical hypnotism," that is to say some guy with a watch on a string saying "You're getting sleepy" and getting paid by the hour for it. As for changing a person's nature, I suppose repeated exposure to the suggestion may work until it becomes the norm. I was exposed to this person for a three year period, both offline (we met in high school) and online (he often refused to communicate without a computer-- he was a freak of nature like that) and I do believe that in some of our chats online he may have pre-programmed some sort of algorithmic lightwave that could have reprogrammed my brain at a sub-primal level.

He was sick and into computing in a way that has made me detest computers, and I know that thought manipulation through light and sound subfrequencies too quiet to be heard by the human ear are a plausible idea so that's another very real possibility. He always compared everything to two things: homosexuality and computers. I think he thought of people like computers and his mission was to reprogram them to be homosexual, like him. I was his first guinea pig, and he succeeded. But I know the damage can be undone, I just don't know how.

I'm afraid I can't, psychotherapist, social worker, therapy, all these words have horrible connotations for me, they stir up horrible images of days past and make me want to leap from the nearest bridge and fall into a black oblivion until I think no more. Psychotherapy has done far more harm than good to me in my lifetime and I know that some people have a hard time grasping that. Pharmaceuticals on the other hand have done a world of good to me, and I love that I am able to take medicine to maintain some sense of stability in my world. That said, the thought of sitting in a therapist's office, as I've said just makes me want to kill myself. As for the hypnosis, I don't know anyone.

They are depressing people who talk to depressing people for a living. They nail themselves to crosses willingly, listening to the sickest, most depraved recesses of the human mind. No human being should have to sit and listen to another human being's problems on that kind of level of mass exposure. And even if they could, how would they process it? They have notes, but I've looked through my therapists' "notes" on me in the past, they just scribble or doodle on a blank piece of 11x8.5 printer paper! They're not doing anything! They're lying, conniving members of a society that must really need to get their rocks off in a weird way as far as I'm concerned.

It might be magic, for all I know. I'm a Taoist at heart, I like to follow a more mystical sect of Buddhism, Won Buddhism, which is an amalgamation of Zen Buddhism, Ritual Taoism and Philosophical Confucianism. I believe in magic, I believe in spirits of sorts in a day and age where everyone waves them off casually in the name of science and yet they still can't explain homosexuality through science. Go figure. But I have no beef with homosexuals or homosexuality-- I just do not desire to be one as I was not born one. I was programmed to think I am one and fear at that desire. I was forced through twisted mind to make my mind twisted and I will not have that, I am better than this person and the last thing I want is anything in common with him.

He broke me. I'm better than that, and I'm going to find a way to break this spell, suggestion, programming or whatever it is you want to call it. I cannot and will not live my life as being some sort of sick experimental shard of his. He wanted to break me, well, he succeeded. I'm as broken as they come and you might think all of this sounds crazy, like a deep fantasy but I know firsthand just how real it is. I've been altered, this isn't some coping mechanism to deal with a mild discomfort, this is unadulterated mind rape on a scale so heavy I bear it like Atlas.