04/05/2026
Sometimes I feel devastated. I remember the abuse of my father, how my baby brother smelled of sex, his cotton pajamas ripped almost totally, down to his ankles. My father said that “his thing, smells”At 5 years old, I knew what I perceived. I don’t want to remember this. And my baby sister, was also SA’d. Face it, Daddy. I think that Satan’s activity was way more inferior, than your perversion, your assaults on your own relative family. God save your soul. God protect us all.
Hello,
My name is Christine and I am almost 45 years old. This is my very first blog. I am writing because I feel like I am living in a closet. But I am not gay, I am mentally ill, I have Schizoaffective Disorder. I also have PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder). Not many people know this about me. I have been fearful of “coming out”, because, frankly, the human population has not always been kind to people with mental illness. But isn’t it time that we come to accept all of our bothers & sisters, regardless of their differences?
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My Uncomfortable Mind 
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