When people tell me I have huge boobs, I have a strong urge to tell them they have tiny ones.

The last image that pops into my head at night is me hanging/strangling myself. I’m not suicidal by all means, and do not want to die. But it calms me, and after that image, I feel I’ve washed away any bad karma Ive earned the day before.

I have asthma because my mum smoked like a train through her pregnancy. When I was five, my way of revenge was dipping her cigarettes in ice cream and putting them back in the box.

When I was little, I had this thought that I were to die at about the age of 20. Don’t know why, it was way before I got depression, at the age of 11-12. I never really considered to kill myself. About a year ago, I’ve started thinking of ways to die, like really odd ways to die. It didn’t matter when or where or with whom I was at that moment. It didn’t matter if I was supposed to be happy cause people were there celebrating something about my successes or birthdays or anything of that sort (meanwhile I became this person that anyone would love to have for a daughter). I felt nothing for no one but I knew that, if I was alone, I could hurt myself for sure; therefore I’m conscious about my state. So I accepted society and pretended I care about others. I don’t really want anyone to suffer, so I don’t do crazy things; I just get ill on purpose and refuse to take my medicine, usually ending up in a shit like condition. Sometimes I don’t eat for days, blaming the fact that I’m always busy and don’t have time for that. I’m also narcoleptic. Nobody really knows that, but I’m not doing it for the attention if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ve just done so many different things that everything and everyone bores me to death. Less than 2 years to go. Maybe I’ll really get a terminal disease or something. Everybody dies in the end – life is practically just a boring book to read if you are conscious about the way it’s going to end.

I am fat. Really fat. I hate myself. I know it is technically a hormone problem but I feel it’s just an ‘excuse’. I am going in for gastric sleeve surgery soon. I can’t wait to be skinny. And I want to go blonde too. I want to completely change myself, but right now, it feels impossible.

When I was younger, my cousin & I used to play ‘doctors and nurses’. We are both girls, and we were exploring. I used to make her touch me and she used to make me touch her. Our relationship is completely ruined now, 15 years later. I feel so guilty.

I snooped my boyfriends text messages and found out he had been texting and seeing another girl and told her that he loved her. I havent told him that i know about the messages because im so scared to lose him. i know i deserve better and its killing me inside knowing he is cheating and telling another girl he loves her.

My ultimate fantasy is to use a strap- on on my boyfriend. I will never tell him this, but I am so damn curious, it drives me crazy!

I have amazing mind blowing sex with my married co-worker in the work store room every time we work together. I went to his wedding. I think I’m in love with him.

Almost every night I have the same dream. I live in a huge house, I have the dream body I want, all the money I could imagine having and a perfect boyfriend. This makes me depressed when I wake up as I realise I have nothing in my life to be proud of, I dropped out of my last year of high school, don’t have a job, get my income off my father and live of my boyfriends happiness. I have also come to the conclusion I have no real friends I can call up anytime of the day and ask to hang out and I could never have anything like the things I have in my dream. I hate my life.