Im starting to realize that my post is going to be very long and maybe stupid but I guess I just NEED to say some of this *sigh

I grew up very impoverished. I was raped and assaulted many times from age 6 and at least once a year after that all the way to age 23 by strangers. My mom was very abusive and maybe mentally ill as well. My dad was schizophrenic, paranoid, bi polar etc.

I literally was raised as an animal. I didn't brush my hair or change my clothes. I ate off the floor. Flys didn't bother me. Heck sometimes I was so hungry I ate rotten meat and maggots. That didn't seem to bother me either.

What did bother me was that I tried to be so good and still my mom hated me. But I was good to everyone else. That didn't matter either.

What complicated matters is that the first rape got gossiped about. It was decided that I was whore. All this decided in kindergarten. For all of my school years I was verbally abused and physically. Spit on, burned, stabbed etc. Once I made a friend the first day of school. The next day they walked on the other side of the hall. Its a horrible experience to realize that your hated by 3000 people every day.

Then I got a "boyfriend" In quotes because he raped me and my mother was even trying to get me on birth control so he could continue and marry me and take me away. I let it all happen and didnt put my foot down till he said our marriage would be shared by his best friend. Who creeped me out even more than he did.

At 15 my grandmother got a terminal illness. Shed always been a depressed person but along with the diagnosis she was even more depressed and her meds did not help. She requested that i be moved in to care for her. I was a happy little helper. I paid her bills and did her dr visits. I gave her medicine and dressed her. I pulled her panties down for her to potty and administered yeast medication. I did all the cooking and cleaning. In the end it was my decision that put her in a hospital and mine to enforce her DNR order. It was me that sat with her till her last breath. As much service as I put into her even in her condition she matched it. She taught me how to cook, clean, sew and balance books. How to dress and what to do with my hair. How to take in details. She provided support for my school work and for the first time in my life i was making As and not fs.

After she died my aunt kidnapped me and my sister. It was a good thing is some respects. She continued the work of rehabilitating and socializing me and my sister. At the same time though she had bi polar and was a very scary angry person alot of the time. I could never please her even though I was perfect. I was!!! I never had friends or TV or food i wasn't supposed to. I made perfect grades and i kept the entire house perfectly clean and I NEVER got in trouble. I never spoke unless told to. I made over 4.0 GPA. Yet if I took more than a millisecond to answer or something equally stupid. I was fed bread and water for 3 days in a closet. Or I was confined to the couch for 3 months.

I tried so hard to please her. Dang she worked me hard. Hand tilling 2 acres of land and building fences etc. Even when my hands blistered I said nothing. Then I said nothing till they busted. I still didn't say anything when it happened again. Then the day came that the palms of my hands fell off. I had coated all the tools in blood. I could not bring myself to work anymore. She came out to yell at me and saw my hands. Said I was being a whiner and lazy. I ended up coating my hands in mud and grass and continuing tilling.

Eventually she got tired of me. Kicked me out of the house with nothing in a snow storm. I was only wearing sandals at the time. She did not know that I had met a boy though. I walked 4 miles to his house and his grandmother said i could stay.

I had 1 good year with my now husband. Sex was a freaking blast!!!! Then my dad died, I miscarried, we were homeless and a storm of other tragedies. Then it happened. I lost my mind. I had a mental break. I had a diagnosis. Bi-polar with psychotic features. I had many suicide attempts. Many hospitalizations. Was even institutionalized and lived in half way houses.

Finally came to a stable point. No change, no jobs, lots of meds and no sex drive. Stayed like that for a few years. Very shy and didn't go out. No sex drive not that sex had ever been that great or inventive anyways. But it was a wonderful life I was okish.

Here it is 8 years after my diagnosis. I am still on meds and probably will be for the rest of my life. I am considered to be 98% well. Yet in some ways my issues are even worse than they used to be. I have absolute mistrust of any person. I have a large amount of fear for stupid things like calling a company on the phone.

Some big changes have happened in the last year though. I found my sex drive and my enjoyment. I am bursting with sexual creativity. I have a husband, a mentor, a sadist and a couple casual partners. It worries me at times that I think about sex and bdsm and pain and being submissive so much. I worry that its somehow negative. The silver lining is that it definitely does good things for me. I get catharsis and pure relief. I feel happier for days or months after playing. I am finally able to feel sexual and pleasing. As fearful and paranoid as I am around "regular" people kinksters are different. Yes I am fearful and paranoid. But its a wonderful experience. I am able to meet with dominants and give trust. There is where the bdsm mindset shines. Ive found over all that people in this lifestyle communicate and are very careful. That they are honest and open minded.

As for beauty. No one told me I was pretty even when I was a foot taller and 30 pounds lighter than everyone else. No one said I was wonderful when I made good grades. No one has ever said oh shes so kind when I was abjectly making sure I was nice and everyone else was happy.

I try to work on these issues but lets be honest now. I weigh 300lbs. I have issues which my never get reduced to a real manageable level. I am a broken person. Yet I do try so very hard still. Do I approachh beautiful, wonderful or kind? Nope not even 1%.

Again though here comes the praises of the lifestyle and those involved. I have met people who say I am amazing, beautiful, natural sub, best slut, gorgeous beauty. Angelic face, cute tummy. That how I respond is a work of art. That im intelligent. That they'd be proud to own me. That I am a glass of water to their desert. That Im a "keeper". Maybe some day ill believe some of that. Maybe 1%??