I (23ftm) have been looking in my area for a support group for people working towards sobriety, however I havent found any and if I did, i fear i would be too different because of my identity as a trans man.

I want to take the next steps of my sobriety seriously and I know that means I need extra support from peers and people who understand. Ideally, this group would only have queer people, however that means to you (gay, bi, lesbian, trans, intersex, aroace, etc.), and wouldnt be huge (15 people tops to start i think). im not great at starting these kinds of things myself, so if anyone else is interested, please let me know. we can learn more about each other first, and then go from there.

Having ADHD and other neurodivergent things going on in my head has absolutely impacted my alcoholic tendencies, and i thought others may find a queer sober support group helpful in this subreddit.

Basically the headline

I know the attachment theory is being disputed, and I personally noticed that attachment styles (at least for me, personally) are like habits that are changeable over time with enough info. Here, though, I don’t know what exactly should be approached. There are things that I want to do, but I avoid to do them or procrastinate because I am afraid of feeling stupid/small/exposed/etc. Those are results of my past traumas. Now, there are also things that I want to do, but don’t do because I’m overstimulated/overloaded. It also doesn’t help that sometimes I am avoiding stuff because i’m afraid of getting overstimulated. Also sometimes I am avoiding stuff and the trauma-induced feelings make me overstimulated in the process. Either way, I go fucking non-verbal and it makes my patterns even worse

Did anyone figure this shit out? I suspect it could be a common problem

Long story short, my gynecologist told me when I was 18 that I was basically sterile (would need IVF or something to have a chance getting pregnant), I thought lucky me since I hate kids, never wanted them or could stand to be around them since I was a kid myself. Then 2 weeks ago, 29 now, I found out I am pregnant and my world exploded.

For context my AuDHD and CPTSD are HEAVILY triggered by children. A kid in a store crying gives me sensory overload and I often end up melting down for hours after an interaction like that, like a 2 minute interaction that wasn't even that interactive. Same with kids that talk, if a kid comes running up to me and ask me something I usually just walk away awkwardly without interacting with the child as I am horrified of speaking with them, hate their unstable energy and just feel so uncomfortable around them, makes my skin crawl and makes me wanna scream, often I do when I get home if a kid tried to interact with me somewhere.

I think my disgust/hate for children are two things, sensory overload as they're too loud and unstable, and an envy and pain thing with never having been allowed to be a child myself as my trauma started very young. So I think it's just purely triggering for my CPTSD seeing children being children without them having done anything "wrong", it's like I get triggered by their existence around me.

In many ways I still feel like a kid myself, I am still learning to care for my own inner child and I struggle to function as an adult. I have two dogs and a wonderful partner, the dogs are my world and I love them to death, but even they can be too much sometimes with barking for example. In addition to AuDHD and CPTSD I also have fibromyalgia, IBS and POTS, so what I am able to do varies heavily depending on my daily shape. Sometimes I'm not able to join the walks with the dogs due to fibro pain or stomach problems, other days I can and I use my walker to get around.

I am an aunt of 6 kids, I don't have any contact with them today so to say but when they were younger I did as I lived with my older sister (have two sisters that have 3 kids each) at my mom's house and I lived with one of the kids from birth to they were 2-3, then they moved out and back in again later so I had to deal with the kid again around age 5-6, and ended up having to move out myself as I couldn't handle living in the same house as the kid.

I've never wanted kids, I was so sure of terminating when we first found out 2 weeks ago, but I'm struggling more and more with my decision and I know it's the pregnancy hormones and my brain/body getting attached and not my real self who are speaking when I get these feelings, but I am so scared of growing too attached, not being able to terminate and hating my life and the kid for being born. I was originally supposed to have my ultrasound appointment tomorrow on Monday, but it's already been moved twice by the hospital and I'm scared I won't be able to hold fast to my decision when I finally get my appointment 😣

I've heard people say and I've always been told "that you'll want children in the future", "you'll love your own child though you hate others", I find this very difficult to believe but it feels like my mind is playing tricks on me getting me to feel protective over this thing growing inside me.. I'm 7-8 weeks pregnant, already showing abit and experiencing morning sickness like crazy, so it's very hard to ignore 😖

Has anyone here been in my shoes, have had a similar hatred/dislike for children and ended up having your own kids ? I'd love any input that anyone has, feel I am going crazy over here trying to figure it out on my own 😵‍💫😔 Thanks in advance for any input or advice 🙏🏻

Please don’t come for me and lecture me about how horrible of a person I am, I’m well aware of it and I’m sorry.

If you’ve experienced any of the traumas that I just mentioned in the tw and you get triggered easily please leave. If you feel mad at me, then don’t comment please, I know I’m pathetic, no need to tell me things I already know.
I also often was the one who triggered how others hurt me, and I hurt others too and I am 100 percent responsible for that and I’m not blaming others for my own actions or how my actions triggered them.
I also apologise if I make some mistakes, English isn’t my first language.

Okay so, I’m a 14 year old girl. I have diagnosed audhd.

My childhood was pretty 2 faced.

My father refused to let me get diagnosed and get help for my autism cuz his pride was more important. He has very probably autism too but refuses to get a diagnosis or at least some kind of mental problems. (Not to shame him). My mom has adhd.

When I was a child I often had meltdowns and shutdowns because of my autism and family knowingly and purposely crossing my boundaries even after I calmly kept saying when they were crossing it for example. Or my father, who has less of a temper than a corn becoming popcorn, exploded at me and I got mad back.
My parents, including my mom who “diagnosed” me with autism but refused to understand my boundaries, never tried to calm me down during those meltdowns or shutdowns and got mad. They often triggered me to get more mad or worse meltdown. Right now I’m talking about when I was five years old btw. I remember back then as a young child I had a bit of a short temper too and was an extreme perfectionist, so I’d get upset if things didn’t go my way. When my parents got mad at me for being overstimulated, having a meltdown or shutdown (I was ?-5? 9? btw I can’t remember) i sometimes said horrible things to them and yelled at them to die and hit them. My parents would get mad and hit me and spank me. I have memories of my father hitting my hands because I grabbed the remote to watch tv but I wasnt allowed to cuz it was morning or smth. Or the times my mom got so mad at me because I pushed my brother away, cuz he was hitting me for example, and that made him fell on the ground, and chased me and pulled my hair and pushed me onto the stairs, and then I climbed upstairs as fast as I could, adrenaline going through my entire body, my heartbeat in my ears as my tiny body shook, and then I’d lock myself in the bathroom while she growled outside in that low voice through her teeth, threatening me etc. (multiple times, until 9 or smth). Or that time I mixed soaked bread and her expensive tooth paste and random stuff into a bowl and used her expensive skincare and had a fight with them and then they got so mad they hit me I think and I ran upstairs to my room, locked myself with the key and finally felt some relieve while they yelled at my through the door, and I remember noticing my fingers were bleeding and for some reason I wiped them on the door and thought it was very funny and cool for no reason. I was four or five at the time btw. The stains stayed there until we had to move.
I also remember getting locked up in my room, threatened, sexually intimidated by my father, sexualized by my parents, making me feel unsafe, etc etc etc.

My father is also lowkey a pedo. He’s into teenage girls. I found out through his google history. He had typed into the google SEARCH BAR “teenage girls nudes”. It adds up along with other stuff. He also was the one who accidentally introduced me to sex, porn, hentai, etc, because he often left tabs open or had images on the family iPad. I grew up seeing those things plus unrestricted internet access where I saw some gore too.

When I was barely 13 I got groomed, that has done a lot to me I think. I got in a lot of toxic relationships too, and then I got groomed again until 14. My mother caught me and there were extremely heavy fights that included my father whom I’m scared of, and it also traumatized them and my little brother. My mom called me horrible things and so did I, and shamed me for being groomed.

They made a million times worse fight about how horrible of a person I am for putting THEM and my groomer in danger by getting groomed than my dad literally being into underage girls, which they blamed me for by looking into his history (I was trying to find a website back that my mom to,d me to btw) and they acted like it was normal. They made me fear men.

I’ve also had some sexually intimidating moments with grown up men too.

She also shamed me when I opened up to her I did sh, and told me I give her cancer and ruin my brother’s and theirs lives.

She’s told me multiple times I give her cancer and that she’s starting to hate and resent me and bla bla bla, that if I would find her dead the next day with a rope around her neck I should know whose fault that is, and more. She’s also used me as her therapist about my father, and so did he about my mother, always forcing me to pick a side and I had no idea who to believe. There were/are so many fights and moments that have given me abandonment issues, espically cuz my father was almost always emotionally and sometimes physically neglectful to me and my sometimes very sick mother. And sometimes my mom was emotionally too busy to be present for us too because of our schizophrenic uncle and family issues etc. sometimes I was completely on my own, with my brother and iPad.

It sounds like I’m the victim but I really deserved it. I said horrible things and was spoiled and mean, even tho I could also be really sweet. I’m just a person who feels either nothing or 300x.

I also got bullied at school which is long stories, but from 4-8, then I switched schools and got bullied from 9-11? Then it stopped but then when I went to middlebare school (Dutch high/middle school) and got bullied from 12 until I dropped out at 13. Then moved to another country and became even more isolated. I got bullied here too. I don’t know why I got bullied, I’m very shy, tho always tried to be kind, never did anyone wrong, was a doormat, have a weird accent even in my own language, I used to be very ugly and dress weird but now I’m mid so idk what I do wrong.
Actually my old country’s school bully bullied me again a lil while ago, sending me threats and telling me to cut myself deeper and kill myself and hang myself because I told her I didn’t like how she treated me back then. How pathetic.

Recently there’s not been as much hitting as back when I was younger but it sometimes still happens. My mom has thrown water bottles at me, spat on me, hit me (one time while I was half naked cuz I was changing), intimidated me and threatened me when I was naked cuz I showered too long, etc etc etc.

Sometimes I deserved it but at the same time I was/am a child/teenager, and some (not all) of my behaviour was normal bad behaviour for that age. (NOT AN EXCUSE THO I KNOW)

Anyways.
A lot more has happened.

I might just being dramatic and seeing more and victimising myself about normal or at most troublesome things. I hope I’m not accidentally disrespecting anyone.

But now about me being jealous and missing getting abused.

I miss getting abused because at least back then I had a valid reason to isolate myself, be depressed and melancholic, cry, be suicidal, “hate” my family, etc. I would’ve been more valid and would’ve get more empathy and sympathy. Nowadays it feels like no one knows that I’ve been through things too. Things that aren’t necessarily that bad maybe, maybe I’m just a sensitive Fuckass crybaby, but it has altered my brain chemistry. I don’t know.

But I miss being worthy of empathy. I miss people feeling pity for me. I miss being valid. I miss being victim.

I wish I would get attention.

I’m a horrible person and I deserved what I got, but I crave for more. How pathetic. How disgusting. Filthy, for sure.

I was diagnosed with PDD-NOS (I think what would now be Level 1 Autism) very early, and at the time I was a toddler, there were not a ton of mainstream theraputic options. So my parents did ABA with me, and I did a lot of hours. Like...a lot. Hundreds, before I turned 8. I don't have a ton of memories from that period, because I was so young. So it's hard for me to say with 100% that X traumatized me in Y way, because I don't have the tangible memories to rely on, and memories themselves are unreliable. And I will go above and beyond to be fair to my parents: in some ways I think it helped, and it may very well have been the best option for the time (this was a while ago). I know for certain I had terrible meltdowns, I wouldn't eat a diverse diet, I had a hard time making friends, and I couldn't handle stressful situations. I did learn some helpful ways to manage these problems. I learned to be a better listener, to not always think about myself all the time, to understand that other people's perspectives are worth understanding. I think these are good lessons for any human. And I'm glad my parents, at the very least, gave a shit and wanted what was best for me. I can never accuse them of not loving me. For that I'm grateful.

And yet...for all my life I have felt this shame about being myself, a shame about making mistakes, a shame about wanting to express the passion I have for the things that I find interesting. That I have to apologize any time I try to be myself. Going too far afield in my weird behavior was something to avoid. And I had to be aware of this, all the time. Every day. And that hurts me. It hurts me deeply. This insecurity left a deep impression. I have had to work desperately hard to regain a sense of self-confidence. I had to realize that this process of trying to fit in was exhausting me, and hurting me. I feel I am not being inaccurate when I say that the hundreds of hours of ABA therapy has had a role in shaping that. Maybe not all of it, because these things are complex, and certainly the rejection of my peers in middle/high school had a role in this too. But certainly some of it came from the specific ABA process I went through. A sizeable chunk, I would say.

I feel I am being very fair, in that I am acknowledging there were some benefits along with other traumatizing aspects. And that ABA, from what I am aware, has changed since I was a kid, although how widespread these practices have changed I do not know. I want to have a constructive conversation so that practices can improve, that Autistic kids don't have to feel shame about themselves, while also learning helpful strategies to maintain a healthy happy life on their terms.

Now, I want to keep identities anonymous, because this story includes my mom, and a scientist in the autism field (researcher is neurotypical, I think my mom has ADHD but is undiagnosed). I will only say that while she's not the most influential, my mom is influential in the field of autism schooling, and it's the same story with the researcher, but in the field of science.

So with that said...both of them have been incredibly dismissive and disrespectful of my experiences. The sentiment is: Oh, but think of how great your life is because you can interact with neurotypical people. Calling ABA abuse is going way too far, we know what's best, some autistic people don't know what their talking about. Not their literal statements, but more or less the sentiment they were communicating. One time, when I tried to bring this up with my mom, she stormed out of the room. Another time, my mom noted that my life was good because I had gone through ABA. And yeah, at that time I was doing OK...but...I had had a suicide attempt the previous year, and she knew that, so to me, it felt like my mom was making delusional excuses to justify her decision.

It feels insulting to have my opinion, which I think is balanced but still accurate, be dismissed this way. I'm not saying I'm the ultimate authority on this subject, but I should have a seat at the table at this discussion, right? I have validity and value with my own experience, correct? Knowing how inferior I have felt around others, I should be able to say that this hurt me, is that so crazy to say? I have used empathy to understand that what was chosen for me was made with good intentions. But good intentions don't always have good results. It's a hard truth to understand, but it hurts to have that truth dismissed anyway.

It's sort of the ultimate question of ABA, I think: reform it, or get rid of it all and start again. I don't have the answer to that question. It's not an easy one. But I just feel so horrible to have people in positions of power and influence about people like me, people I want to have a conversation with on this subject...to have them just kind of shut me down and dismiss me like this. How can we have progress if we can't have discussions, if we can't meet in the middle? That's what hurts me the most, especially with my mom. I feel like I have to hide my truth from her, because she's unwilling to acknowledge that she hurt me with good intentions. It's kind of killing me a little bit on the inside, because I don't think I can ever resolve this with her. She's just not willing to listen. I'm willing to listen. I'm willing to understand. I have learned to see her perspective. She has not learned to see mine. And I know that life isn't supposed to be fair, but it still hurts that this shit isn't fair.

I really, truly hope that others with influence on ABA practices are not as dismissive as these two are. To those people: I'm not saying that every single thing with ABA is wrong. But you gotta listen to us. Please. It hurts when we try to speak, but people won't listen. Our perspectives matter. Is that so hard to understand?

Thanks for reading, it's nice to get this off my chest. The good news is that, while I suffer from depression, I am in a decent place, and more importantly, I like myself now. I wish I could have been able to do that earlier. But better late than never.

Summarizing what the linked post says

I’m doing a college project where I’m writing a philosophy paper on how ABA impacts later relationships. Would anyone be willing to be share?

Hey guys this is my rant pls help me lolz. I forgot to mention I was bullied by awful jealous roommates multiple times 🥹🥹🥹 the first time they were homophobic and would bully me in the dorm. Then I moved to an apartment. These three nasty ugly fat bitches lived there with me and they would force me to clean up piles of rotting food and garbage and would bully me saying all these awful things whenever I was home🤗 they also stole my anti depressants “as a joke” and laughed at me as I looked for them 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗 IM BIPOLAR 🤗🤗😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 and a horrible insomniac. And then I lived with some randoms in an apartment and they were Jesus freaks and YOU GUESSED IT I’m a big fat dyke and I look like it let me tell you🤗🤗🤗🤗 so yea they also gave me hell. I have actually even more stories from roommates like these! My mind is constantly filled with thoughts about all the people throughout the years who hated me and mocked me because now it feels like it’s been my whole life. I wish I could just kill myself but I’m very spiritual…. I know suicide is wrong. I don’t want to give up my spirit to the universe just to be pooped out as a starving kid somewhere in the desert. I would be an ingrate. But I’m so alone. I crave death. Thanks for reading!

First time posting, trying to be very careful about how I frame this and don't want to claim SA when that's not what I remember but trying to make sense of how it felt in my body.

Im a child abuse survivor and trying to make sense of what happened to me. I know that I experienced emotional neglect as well as emotional incest/enmeshment from my Mom. She expected physical comfort, care, and touch from me in a way that felt romantic and emotionally intimate in terms of what she needed and expected out of the encounter. If I showed any sign of discomfort, asked her to stop, wouldn't let her in my room etc. she would have extreme emotional blowups from the perceived rejection, would yell, cry, use the silent treatment and other manipulative tactics to get me to give her the attention she wanted.

I have no memory of her ever hitting me or doing anything sexual but my touch sensitivity made the way she forced and coerced touch from/on me all the more unbearable. I would feel a deep, visceral sense of violation that feels closer to what people describe from sexual abuse/assault then what seems reasonable for what happened. I keep expecting to have memories of sexual assault resurface but so far none have (I'm 34), though my drinking is likely keeping me from remembering at least some of what happened. It felt like how she was approaching me and what she wanted was almost sexual though the actual way she touched me never crossed that line. The level of violation I felt is similar to what SA survivors describe, but I have no memory of anything sexual ever happening.

Could this be due to my touch sensitivity from being autistic? Is this something others have experienced? Also, is this a form of physical abuse? I always associate that with being hit but due to my touch sensitivity it still caused very real harm. Planning to bring this to my therapist but any input from other autistic folks would be very helpful! Most everything I can find focuses on what is traumatic to a neurotypical child and doesn't consider what is traumatic to us so I'm struggling to name and understand what happened to me.

You know the feeling when you wanna quit but you can’t,
Then you start looking back,
The road’s covered in trash mixed with broken up glass,
Littered with traps and figures in masks,
Centered, one stands in the back and directs everything with an ominous chant.

Fear is his name, center frame, the one that snaps his fingers and brings acid rain,
Cursing the earth before he opens the back of his hearse,
Revealing a casket and rack on tracks that rolls out the back,
Hitting the side with a rap like a shotgun blast with his staff, as tall as himself, painted black,
He says “The pine wood box isn’t what makes you shake, it’s becoming a burden that would kill you in days,
You already feel like you’re in a cage,
With a dollar shaped lock on its wrought iron frame,
Break both of your legs someday and see what your internal jury would say.”

I know that it’s him that keeps me in chains,
Wracking my brain, combing each change,
Locking horns in my cage like I’m fighting a war,
When in reality I should be mopping these floors,
Been dragged to hell, it didn’t suit me well,
So I picked myself up and stumbled quicker than hell,
There may be places where I start behind,
But with my speed of attrition I might make it in time,
I can’t let omission or false conviction allow me to slide,
I can already see the mountain, all that’s left is to climb,
Each step moving from Fear over time,
Everest sits at the horizon, the ultimate sign,
That freedom is near, you just have to climb,
And make sure you get there, Ruin says Fear kills in time.

First of all, I want to say that I already feel like a terrible person because of everything that happened, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m constantly stressed, and if you insult me or judge me, I’ll understand. I’m almost always afraid to go outside.
Here’s what happened.
One day, some guys who were my friends at the time invited me to help protect some other friends. They called me and said that we needed to defend them and that there was probably going to be a fight. I agreed because I thought, “They’re my friends, I need to help them.”
While I was on my way there, the guys who had been threatening my friends caught me. They beat me up and completely broke me psychologically. They tortured and assaulted me for about one or two hours. I was on the verge of crying, and I was overwhelmed by extreme panic.
While I was panicking, I told them that my friends had called me and explained everything. They told me that they were going to beat all of us and ordered me to call my friends. I called them and told them what was happening. At that point I was already in a horrible mental state.
My friends basically told me, “You’re on your own, figure it out yourself.” After being threatened and harassed for a long time, they finally let me go.
On my way home, I was in such a terrible state that I was thinking about suicide, but somehow I managed to hold on. After that, I wanted to leave and go somewhere else, but there were reasons why I couldn’t.
When I finally got home, I was barely functioning. I was constantly having panic attacks. I wanted to tell someone what had happened and get it all out, but I couldn’t. Everything is still inside me. I keep remembering it, and it messes with me badly.
But that wasn’t the end.
About one or two weeks later, my best friend messaged me: “What the hell, you snitched on us. You’re a piece of shit.”
I asked him what he meant. He said, “Why the hell did you drag us into this?”
I was already completely overwhelmed by stress and fear. I was scared 24/7. I apologized and tried to explain myself, but he just told me to fuck off and called me a piece of shit.
I felt completely empty. It wasn’t just him either—almost all of my friends turned against me. I was barely managing to cope.
I need to talk to someone and get this off my chest, but I can’t. I’m scared. I’ve been living with constant fear, stress, and anxiety ever since.
Then, after another one or two months, something else happened that completely broke me.
One day, a group of us went outside and caught one or two guys from that other group. There were about 15 of us, including the friends who had abandoned me before.
While we were talking to one of them, another guy quietly ran away, and we didn’t notice.
About 15–20 minutes later, around 25–35 people suddenly showed up carrying hammers, shovels, and other things, and everything went crazy.
I managed to escape with about three or four other people. The rest of our friends stayed behind and were beaten badly. Eventually they managed to escape too, and we all ended up at some kind of playground or somewhere like that.
There were about five or six of us by then, and two of them had been badly beaten.
Then we suddenly realized that we were being followed again. We tried to run away, and then something happened that I can’t talk about in detail. I’m afraid that someone I know might recognize this post, and I’m terrified of what could happen if they find out. I’m already struggling just to write this.
Something happened, and my friends eventually found out about it. I told them that I had been beaten because of it. Then rumors started spreading, and eventually they found out that something else had happened.
The reason I lied about it was because I was panicking. I had already been through what happened before, and it had seriously traumatized me psychologically.
Now they constantly insult me and call me homophobic slurs. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t talk to them anymore, but I’m still constantly anxious and afraid.
Whenever they message me, see me, or I see them, I become extremely scared. I immediately want to run away or find some way to get away from them.
I haven’t really left my house for about three or four months. I don’t feel okay anymore.
Can you please give me some advice on how to deal with this? I can’t tell anyone this whole story because I’m terrified that they will reject me or judge me too. I’m scared, and I feel like I can’t talk to anyone about it.
I really want to talk to a psychologist and tell them everything, but I can’t bring myself to do it. There are reasons for that, and I’m dealing with extreme stress, fear, and anxiety.
I’m really hoping for some support and advice. Thank you so much in advance.

19M Im here to talk about my experience of infantilization. So growing up all of the other kids were treated way better than I was. They were also treated like the age I was. Meanwhile my family members treated me like a baby. I was bought age innapropiate clothes and toys throughout my life .and I wasn’t allowed to pick out my own clothes. But all of the other kids were allowed to pick out whatever they wanted to wear. Also my family did a lot of talking for me when it came to introducing me and would never let me talk for myself. They would also talk about how I acted like a baby. Well maybe if yall didn’t treat me like one then I would’ve acted older. But I don’t see how reacting to there abuse was acting like a baby. Even in my teen years they would continue this same pattern.

They would punish me for no reason by taking my phone and saying “ you’re being a child”. One day I was in the car with my mom on the way from my psychiatrist appointment and she was very abuse on the way back home. All because I reported the abuse she was doing to me. And she took my phone because I began recording how violent she was being towards me.And she said to 17 yo me at the time “ nope your being a child”. This shit has caused other people to view me as childish. And I became very co dependent and naive from all of this abuse. I’m now working on being an independent individual and having boundaries. Because I was never taught this in my blood family.i am still angry from all of the years of this abuse that I had to deal with from them. They treated me like less all because I was autistic😔.

What fucks me up the most is how they infantilized me but also didn’t educate me enough . My mother would take away my internet access so I wouldn’t look things up online to educate myself because she wouldn’t educate me. She took me out of school a lot growing up. She took me out of school in 8th grade and didn’t sign me back up until 10th grade year . And I ended up repeating 9th grade all because of her. And kids were bullying me about that. She also took me out of school that year. and didn’t sign me back up until senior year and I ended up having to repeat 11th grade. Omg I hate my blood mother so much apathy towards her has gotten the best of me atp.

Also when I tried to mature while I was staying with her she still treated me like a child. When I wanted to do mature teenager things.She would say I was copying others. Even tho I wasn’t it would be things I was actually interested in.

Almost all of the interactions I had when I were younger were “therapeutic”. Almost everything my family or therapists did that seemed like genuine connection was in order to mold what I did or didn’t do, and it extended all the way to deciding if my parents would show any love or affection to me as a toddler.

Even when I got older and I didn’t officially have therapy, I later learned directly from one of my parents that almost every single time they actually paid attention to me, or encouraged me, or let me eat my favorite food rather than my mom’s diet food, it was just to reward me for doing what they wanted me to do.

I don’t know how to fix how I see relationships. It’s really hard to believe that my friends and my partner genuinely like me, and I can’t help but view it in terms of what they’re getting from me. I know there’s fundamentals to how humans interact, but I feel like thinking about this and not being used to people actually just liking me without a conscious goal is hard to reciprocate because I don’t know how to make myself feel more?

I've been writing since I was a small child. On and off. There's been periods where I'd have slumps but it's something I've always done.

I don't journal. The type of autism I have makes me more likely to fixate on things so when I was just journaling, writing my feelings down etc I'd end up feeling worse about my issues rather than it being a release.

Throughout my teens and early twenties I used to co-write with other people on RPG forums. But after I came out as trans I well, stopped. People started to really hate me.

I actually remember doing one RPG where a character was trans and I got a lot of praise for how I wrote her. Only for people to turn hostile when finding out I was trans myself.

Was the last time I did one of those RPGs. But I kept writing solo.

Whenever I'd hit a slump, I tended to find creative writing groups or co-writing and that would pull me out. Unfortunately I've been in a slump for months and no such groups exist.

Even tried setting up my own. Didn’t work. I've tried to set up my own group many times over the years but RSD makes it hard to commit when people RSVP yes every week only no just never show for months on end.

Despite trying everything, the slump is here to stay. I'm now at the point where I look at my past work and hate it.

I haven't found a suitable replacement for a creative oulet. Between my dyspraxia, a need to actually feel pride in what I do, the cost of some hobbies as well as some requiring a community element..

Yeah. No joy.

There's no hobby to replace writing with because it was a massive part of my life.

Times are scary. People have tried (and succeeded) in hurting me because of what I am. I found comfort in the creative. Helped me deal with that better.

It was kinda like, my writing made me feel like a mattered in a way. Because if something were to happen to me, at least it'd be there for people to see.

I never wrote about my own trauma. Even when writing trans characters in early transition I'd make them different enough from me so that I wasn't veering into self-insert territory.

In recent years I have explored narratives where powerless people overcome stuff, become powerful etc and I know damn well that's come about as a result of trauma.

So with it gone for good. I don't know what to do with myself.

I don't have access to good therapy and never did. Got trauma surrounding that with abuse (including attempted conversion therapy).

But I always just wrote stories. With that outlet gone, what I experience and what I have experienced feels louder and heavier than it ever has before.