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my meth story

my meth story

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WpMetadataReadIn corso<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeUltima pubblicazione mar, giu 24, 2014
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SAGGISTICA
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40, HIV+, White, Has used Crystal From the time I was a young boy, religion was a very important part of my life. My father died when I was nine and I had absolutely no doubt that he had gone to heaven and took comfort in the fact that I would see him again. Around this time, I began having feelings for other boys. I recall our parish priest preach that he could understand aid for homeless people, but aid for people with AIDS was taking things too far. He was basically saying that they were getting what they deserved and no one should try to help them. When I was 19, I began to drink and drug to bury my feelings and prayed that God would me make straight. I gained a lot of weight and struggled for many years with a food addiction. For years afterwards, I had sex with men but could not stay in a relationship because I did not believe I was worthy of being loved. I had anonymous sex just to feel good, but I was so ashamed of my behavior that I compartmentalized my life. Guilt and sham
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Unmask

"You trust me, don't you?" he says with a smile, that smile. It had fooled everyone, even me at some point, and for the first time I want to scream with rage and shake the earth to the core. "Give me a hug," he says pulling me out of the chair that feels like a rock underneath me. I am as stiff as a board as his hands circle me, making me feel worse than dirt. His hands reach between my thighs and I want to plunge a knife deep through his chest. The only thing stopping me is, the knife is no where near. I pull back and I don't try to hide the anger in my eyes. I want him to see it. To know that I am coming for him. Rape is chanted repeatedly in my mind, reminding of the lies I just told and the false accusations I am throwing on innocent people. He's probably figured it out anyways, surely a Priest as high as he cannot be deceived. But none of that matters anymore because...... This is just the Beginning.

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