12 years
x
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I used to intern at Disney World. I’ve been obsessed with Disney since I can remember, and the idea of working at Disney World was a dream come true for me. But I can’t stand Orlando, Florida, and working for a giant corporation is hell. I’ve done the Disney College Program twice, and got sick of it both times because of the big corporation rules and such. But I just adore Disney so much. I still want to go work there. I dreamed about it for MONTHS after quitting. I would rather be seasonal so I only have to work there for a week or two every several months, but I’d still have to live in Florida, and I don’t think I could. It’s just not my place. And I’m not used to big cities like Orlando, and my anxiety disorder makes it near impossible to live there and survive, especially on my own. And so I’m stuck craving Disney and being a seasonal cast member and being a part of the Disney magic, and knowing that if I go live there and try to work there again, I’ll probably end up leaving all over again.

I swear, Disney is a drug.

New Confession

Living with my aunt during college part 2…after that shower experience with her, she sat me down for a long heart to heart. She said that her concern was not that i played with myself in general, just that apparently if my mother was to be believed, i did it excessively and to a degree or amount of time that would become problematic over time and would probably also continue to escalate. She made sure to tell me thst it was not about shameful or disgusting behavior, it was about how i was at risk of it becoming even more obsessive and distracting from classwork that was about to start in a couple of weeks, and also that it could be a very self isolating behavior. She said that she was not going to try to control me or refuse to allow me to do it, but wanted me to trust her to help me learn to do it in a saner way. She did mention that my mother telling her that she often caught me bent up in a way that allowed me to give myself oralndid concern her, because that was something that could become something by which i would risk degrading myself and could result in me having future problems trying to even relate to someone for s** or make me feel unsatisfied by s** with someone in the future by setting a bar that mo one could meet. So she started asking tough questions and some of my responses surprised or even shocked her. How often did i play with myself, what did i think about, what triggered me to do it each time, how long i had been self s*** ing, trying to get an idea of how big the problem was. It was bigger than she thoight, she told me, a lot bigger than even my mother had said, but she did not think i should be made to feel disgusting or perverted about it. She told me some stories about her past and self pleasure discoveries, and some about my dad, and she hoped that knowing that she and my dad both had their own struggles with heavy obsessive mastur bation would allow me to see her as a loving guiding light or mentor to help me get some kind of sane balance. She ssad that she wanted me to try my best to stop unless she knew and felt it was not excessive, but also said she knew that that would be very difficult to do, and that there wpuld be consequences if i failed. That i would have to learn to expect and respect her telling me no. That she expected the truth and to never lie or sneak or try to hide it. She also warned me that there were no circumstances under which she would tolerate me disrespecting her in general or her rules, and to never forget that while she was completely and directly injecting herself into what i had for a s** life, my own hand, that i should remember that she was not to be heavily sexualized nor should i take her complete insertion of herself into my sse x u ali ty as something i should dare expect would become more than her being a stability and guidance and loving sort of therapist for what was obviously a severe addiction to pleasure with my own body. That this was going to be very difficult for me but she would not be deliberately punitive without me giving her a reason to be. She gave me the basic first rules…..we would shower together each morning, i was free to play with myself, i was allowed to look but never touch, and that i needed to accept that she would talk to me while i did it because she needed to understand how my head worked and what i was thinking as i did it. That silence was isolating and the enemy. I would also possibly be allowed at bedtime. But i was expected to ask permission, and to tell her when i was tempted or wanted to play with myself. She assured me it would all be positive as long as i respected her and understood she had my best interest but also my happiness and ability to enjoy my body in a sane and balanced way. It felt like a good thing and not control or punishment.

To be continued.

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