So I'm 17 and I live with my mentally handicapped mother. Her disability makes it hard for her to understand things as well as most people and her short

13 years

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So I’m 17 and I live with my mentally handicapped mother. Her disability makes it hard for her to understand things as well as most people and her short term memory loss affects her ability to hold a conversation with anyone. You find yourself talking in circles with her. Don’t get me wrong, I love her. But I don’t see her as a parent, I see her as maybe a younger sister. She throws tantrums and stomps around and slams doors when she is frustrated, which is most of the time. I mean, wouldn’t you be frustrated if you couldn’t remember something that just happened or didn’t understand what was happening around you? I’m sure she feels so overwhelmed all the time. I know it’s hard for her and I know she’s tried to be a good parent but she just doesn’t know how. She is unable to get a job because of her lack of concentration. She hasn’t had a job since before I was born. I’ve raised myself for the most part, and most of the time I take care of her as well. We’ve always lived off of Social Security which is really not a lot. I’m battling depression which makes everything seem so much more terrible than it is. Part of me wants to leave this house and this town and never look back but I’m held back because I worry what will become of my mother without me. I’ll be moving out soon but I don’t know how far away I’ll be able to go. I feel my love, compassion, and concern for her will always hold me back. Lately I feel like I’m drowning. I’ve lost the will to do things. I don’t want to be the one who has to worry about money problems ALONG with advanced schoolwork and the dramas of being a teenager. I’m living in filth and poverty. We don’t have a washer or dryer or a car or a phone. The contents of our fridge is: a half gallon of milk, 2 hotdogs, 3 eggs, some tortilla bread and various condiments. And that’s actually not too bad for us. I just want to be rid of all this. I don’t want it to be my problem. I’ve contemplated suicide many times but never tried, I know people would miss me. I’m so glad I have such amazing friends. They are what keeps me going. They take care of me, feed me, cheer me up, give me a place to stay when I need it, even wash my clothes sometimes. I have good people in my life and I am SO grateful for that.

New Confession

Started going to an adult book store with booths about a year after my wife passed.I had never had a gay experience. A first I went to get sucked for releif . One night as I set down a pretty good size hard on was shoved threw the hole from the next booth. At first I just set there and stared at it. I couldnt stop looking at it. It was like a magnet and soon I was holding it in my hand.
My head started down like I couldnt stop myself and the next minute I had it in my mouth. Somehow I knew what to do although I had never done it bf.In no time I heard a loud grund from the other booth and my mouth was filling with c**. I didnt know what to do.I thought about spitting it out but instead swallowed it
I am hooked and spend way to much time there sucking any c*** that comes thru the hole. I have no idea how many loads I have swallowed there I am hooked and cant stop. Its worse than a drug.

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There are not enough characters to express how exhausted I am with my life. I am a closeted homosexual living in a country where I cannot express myself freely, and it’s killing me. Every day, I feel like my true self is slowly disappearing while I continue trying to fit the part. I have to if I want to survive. You know what they do with people like me here. Everyone around me seems to be moving on with their lives, getting married, settling down, and building a life. It’s heartbreaking knowing that I can’t ever have that, at least not the way I want to. My parents are nosy and keep hinting at me getting married. I get extremely uncomfortable at even the suggestion of it. I keep postponing myself. I keep hiding. I keep myself from experiencing life. I am dead, not alive. And that is my problem. I keep asking myself until when? How long until I experience my first? How long until I can finally breathe? How long until I am truly free?