I’m a 36-year-old gay male living in the UK, long post, sorry.
I‘d been struggling again with depression for a year or two (stress from the bunch of Muppets called my car insurance company, still dealing with them and being unable to cope with several past sexual attacks) and in the middle of March 2016 it came to a head. I just couldn’t cope anymore, didn’t want to live anymore, tried to end my own life, got taken to hospital. Spoke to a shrink who passed my number on to a rape crisis centre then sent me home.
Then in April it started getting really bad, in my head I was seriously messed up. Started taking bad risks.
I decided I’d give away my stuff, as wouldn’t need it anymore but when I took my laptop over to a friend, I told him I didn’t need it anymore he refused to take it. I could tell from his face he knew something was wrong, but I didn’t care as id had enough. He asked what was wrong and I blurted out that I couldn’t cope and was going to end it. He literally dragged me to my doctor’s half a mile away who gave me a sick note for anxiety and pills that did nothing.
My mental state improved for a couple of days before going rapidly back the other way again. More risky behaviour.
End of April beginning of May sometime. I was taking loads of risks as I didn’t really care. I arranged to meet a guy in my local park for sex at around 4am, that I had met on Grindr. I waited for ages, thought he wasn’t coming. As I was about to leave a guy came up to me and said he’d seen me on Grindr and wanted to know if I fancied some fun, I thought why not. Don’t know if it was actually the guy I’d arranged to meet or not as didn’t bother getting a face pic.
We went off to have some fun, him to stop as he was hurting me and tried to push him away. He slammed my head into the ground and started choking me with his arm telling he was gonna wether I wanted it or not, that I deserve it cause I’m gay and that he would turn me into a woman if I scream.
I froze. I panicked and froze. Been through it before but still froze. I didn’t know what to do. After a while he raped me again. When he’d finished, out of nowhere, he produced a hammer and said if I told anyone or he saw me again he’d cave my head in with the hammer.
I’ve seen him since and he saw me but he was with his family, kids and all. So now he knows where I live too. But I can’t afford to move.
Got in trouble with the police and gained a criminal record as I tried to take my life in a public place . This was in the middle of the night and no-one was around. The only reason they knew where I was, was because a former flatmate told them where I went.
In the past when this has happened, by now I’ve kind of more or less gotten over it, as much as you can anyway. But this time….
I just can’t get past it. I need to but I can’t. flashbacks, panic attacks that cripple me for hours and all the other rubbish that goes with it. If I hear someone talking outside at night, it just makes me panic. I think their going to break in and rape me, constantly checking the doors are locked just in case. Sometimes I come home and find one of my flatmates have gone out and left the front or back door unlocked or open wide (I live in a flat share). They don’t seem to care about security as their rooms are locked so its fine. But anyone could walk in and be waiting. I just don’t want to tell them why I’m so anal about it. I’m still struggling looking after myself, its so hard just to do the basics, my washing and cleaning, cooking etc. but there is no help out there
I stopped eating for a year, paying for that now along with other problems down below since then that may or may not be related but is just getting worse. I’ve got scars on my arms from self-harming but managed to stop doing that now but all I want to do is hurt myself or have someone else do it.
I know it’s wrong and it will hurt like hell, but I just want to be gang raped over and over to I die, or kicked to death I don’t care. Every guy I see that I like I just want them to rape me. It just seems normal now like it’s what SHOULD happen. Because I know I deserve it. I must do or it wouldn’t keep happening. I must have “easy target” or Victim” permently written on my head for everyone to see. I’ve never been scared of dying but I’m no longer scared of a slow painful death either, which is wrong. But I’m wrong, I’m broken and I don’t think I can be fixed, not this time. Not anymore, too much damage has been done.
Still haven’t had counselling. Was told a while back that had I been born a woman they would have seen me quickly. But as men don’t get raped in this area (and their so so wrong, my friend was, he’s dead now, went to the funeral two weeks ago) it means I have to wait for someone more senior which could take a couple of years. What’s the point? I can’t afford to pay for it either and the NHS won’t help.
I haven’t cried either, I just can’t, the last time I cried was over 9 years ago. Think I’ve lost that ability. I’ve got no emotional release. My dad’s got terminal cancer but since we found out a couple of months ago I still haven’t been able to cry even the I really need to.
I’m lost, I’ve just given up. What’s the point in carrying on, its just one bad thing after another, nothing good. Why cant I just end it? If I don’t end it all I’ve got to look forward to is years of pain and suffering, I don’t want to live with that or my memories anymore.
(edited details)
I‘d been struggling again with depression for a year or two (stress from the bunch of Muppets called my car insurance company, still dealing with them and being unable to cope with several past sexual attacks) and in the middle of March 2016 it came to a head. I just couldn’t cope anymore, didn’t want to live anymore, tried to end my own life, got taken to hospital. Spoke to a shrink who passed my number on to a rape crisis centre then sent me home.
Then in April it started getting really bad, in my head I was seriously messed up. Started taking bad risks.
I decided I’d give away my stuff, as wouldn’t need it anymore but when I took my laptop over to a friend, I told him I didn’t need it anymore he refused to take it. I could tell from his face he knew something was wrong, but I didn’t care as id had enough. He asked what was wrong and I blurted out that I couldn’t cope and was going to end it. He literally dragged me to my doctor’s half a mile away who gave me a sick note for anxiety and pills that did nothing.
My mental state improved for a couple of days before going rapidly back the other way again. More risky behaviour.
End of April beginning of May sometime. I was taking loads of risks as I didn’t really care. I arranged to meet a guy in my local park for sex at around 4am, that I had met on Grindr. I waited for ages, thought he wasn’t coming. As I was about to leave a guy came up to me and said he’d seen me on Grindr and wanted to know if I fancied some fun, I thought why not. Don’t know if it was actually the guy I’d arranged to meet or not as didn’t bother getting a face pic.
We went off to have some fun, him to stop as he was hurting me and tried to push him away. He slammed my head into the ground and started choking me with his arm telling he was gonna wether I wanted it or not, that I deserve it cause I’m gay and that he would turn me into a woman if I scream.
I froze. I panicked and froze. Been through it before but still froze. I didn’t know what to do. After a while he raped me again. When he’d finished, out of nowhere, he produced a hammer and said if I told anyone or he saw me again he’d cave my head in with the hammer.
I’ve seen him since and he saw me but he was with his family, kids and all. So now he knows where I live too. But I can’t afford to move.
Got in trouble with the police and gained a criminal record as I tried to take my life in a public place . This was in the middle of the night and no-one was around. The only reason they knew where I was, was because a former flatmate told them where I went.
In the past when this has happened, by now I’ve kind of more or less gotten over it, as much as you can anyway. But this time….
I just can’t get past it. I need to but I can’t. flashbacks, panic attacks that cripple me for hours and all the other rubbish that goes with it. If I hear someone talking outside at night, it just makes me panic. I think their going to break in and rape me, constantly checking the doors are locked just in case. Sometimes I come home and find one of my flatmates have gone out and left the front or back door unlocked or open wide (I live in a flat share). They don’t seem to care about security as their rooms are locked so its fine. But anyone could walk in and be waiting. I just don’t want to tell them why I’m so anal about it. I’m still struggling looking after myself, its so hard just to do the basics, my washing and cleaning, cooking etc. but there is no help out there
I stopped eating for a year, paying for that now along with other problems down below since then that may or may not be related but is just getting worse. I’ve got scars on my arms from self-harming but managed to stop doing that now but all I want to do is hurt myself or have someone else do it.
I know it’s wrong and it will hurt like hell, but I just want to be gang raped over and over to I die, or kicked to death I don’t care. Every guy I see that I like I just want them to rape me. It just seems normal now like it’s what SHOULD happen. Because I know I deserve it. I must do or it wouldn’t keep happening. I must have “easy target” or Victim” permently written on my head for everyone to see. I’ve never been scared of dying but I’m no longer scared of a slow painful death either, which is wrong. But I’m wrong, I’m broken and I don’t think I can be fixed, not this time. Not anymore, too much damage has been done.
Still haven’t had counselling. Was told a while back that had I been born a woman they would have seen me quickly. But as men don’t get raped in this area (and their so so wrong, my friend was, he’s dead now, went to the funeral two weeks ago) it means I have to wait for someone more senior which could take a couple of years. What’s the point? I can’t afford to pay for it either and the NHS won’t help.
I haven’t cried either, I just can’t, the last time I cried was over 9 years ago. Think I’ve lost that ability. I’ve got no emotional release. My dad’s got terminal cancer but since we found out a couple of months ago I still haven’t been able to cry even the I really need to.
I’m lost, I’ve just given up. What’s the point in carrying on, its just one bad thing after another, nothing good. Why cant I just end it? If I don’t end it all I’ve got to look forward to is years of pain and suffering, I don’t want to live with that or my memories anymore.
(edited details)
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