I've been destroyed before I had a chance to hardly even live.

Hi. I’ve been harmed. I’ll never be the same person. I’ll try to make this as elaborate as humanly possible. This perhaps also doubles as a you-can-probably-guess. There’s nothing I can do about any of this. It’s all burned into my brain, and you cannot. ever. forget. Every word I utter in this document is wholly true. I’m choosing to be open about this not only because that is simply the way I have been rendered, but also because I wish to educate others. I am a victim of the internet, for seemingly lack of a better term. This is my story.

I was first exposed unknowingly to explicit content probably around the age of 6. I was a huge Pokemon fan at the time, and you can probably guess what happened. YouTube was a different place. I was sneaky and unmonitorable. If I wanted, I’d break parental controls or spyware within the hour. I was a fucking genius. Or perhaps the designers were just dumb, not using something such as 2FA, though I’m sure some did and I gained multi-device access simultaneously allowing me to break it. This at such a young age leaves some sort of imprint in the mind. I’d forgotten about it for years.

Yet through all that the generic “Fear of getting caught” leaves me shady and with weak nerves. I’ve got a fear of leadership, which more than likely I’m guessing led to slightly more femininity in my personality.

I discovered gore as well, and found it fascinating for some reason. Little 9 year old psycho me thought it was simply interesting to watch. That desensitizes you. I did it for FUN sometimes because I was bored and didn’t feel emotions. That fucked me up real good as well.

Another thing that probably just messed me up real good was the fact I lost my cat of my whole life, AND my great-grandfather within half a week. The last week of October, 4 years later, remains an unstable time for me. I tend to be very emotionally unstable and just go into a depressive heap. It’s probably another reason I’ve got weak nerves.

I turned 11 or so, and summer that year, puberty hit me very early. I was all of a sudden far more provocative sexually than I ever was in the past. Me being me of course, I find out what “masturbation” is. Within days I’ve got myself a good old fashioned chronic addiction. It has never gone away. You can’t run away from your own body. Frankly, I was an autistic 10 year old and didn’t care. I was an own-drum kind of kid, though not in the normal ways. I just ignored.

Of course, being exposed to this stuff so often it becomes only a rule that one would develop more intense fetishes. Started with Pokemon, then general furry stuff, then stuff I don’t even want to talk about or discuss in any reasonable manner. Before I knew it I was a raging homosexual, pursuing only pornography. I was ELEVEN. YEARS. OLD. I was a sneaky little bastard, and never got caught.

This shit burns other holes in your brain as well, especially with how obsessive autists are. I was a different person. I’ll never be the same again. 11 year old me pursued transgenderism, as further outlets from rapidly expanding fetishization. This just ruined me. I became rapidly further suicidal. I was in probably the worst place I’ve ever been in. I went against my own family. I lost friends of years over this, and the ones I had in school that I was left with only encouraged it. They were all women, and strangely enough most if not all of them had been horrifically sexually abused. I’ll let you draw the correlation.

I was on antidepressants for a month I believe was January-February 2021. I felt nothing the whole time. I was in shock and horror. That’s another thing that just ruins you. I haven’t touched an antidepressant since. That is a mistake I will not make twice. I being a “transgender” pre-pubescent child was an insufferable nightmare. Just a horrid person to be around. I don’t remember how it started, but that was somewhere around April that year.

I’m easily gaslit. It’s something I don’t like to admit. Do you know how easy it is for a bad algorithm to recommend me, at the time an 11 year old mentally (challenged?) unstable child, and convince him of anything you want? It’s so easy. I get caught up in roleplay for example to this day, that little thing in the back of my mind says there’s a chance that in some alternate universe the experience is real and all I have to do is dream.

Going back a few years, I lived in a town called Weirton, in West Virginia and it remains the only place I ever had friends outside of school. The education there was horrid. I had abusive teachers and one even in the current school district I occupy. I was there from Kindergarten through Second Grade. I lived on a cul-de-sac, with many children on it, and a few older people. One kid had his main house and his grandfather’s within thirty seconds’ walking. Lucky bastard.

The important thing to note is the current district I occupy (I am currently homeschooled.), particularly the street I live on, contains almost no children. There was a guy there once, his name was Nicky. He does not deserve privacy.

He was about 4(? I’m terrible with ages, probably way wrong) years older than me, severely autistic if not just a psychopath, and a raging homosexual. I believe I knew him from 8-9 years of age. His voice was ugly, he had red curly hair, was a PlayStation kid (might be the source IMO) and covered in freckles. I saw him in 7th grade once (No clue what grade he was in.)

He was incredibly sexual, often when I’d leave my tablet unlocked or was using it, he’d take it and type in porn sites. This actually happened. Once, he pinned me to my bed and I’m convinced to this day that if I had waited 15 more seconds I would have been raped, though I got away somehow, no clue as anything after the entrapment isn’t remembered consciously at least. I stopped seeing him via my mother’s advice, God bless her soul, sometime shortly after the incident. I think she knew.

Around December of 2021, I made the seemingly dumbest decision of my life. I decide I just am sick of being trans and this isn’t the way I want to be. I hard-quit on trans subreddits, and ask the only good question I’ve ever gotten an answer from on that shithole. I’d been seeing these icons on anti-transphobia subreddits, and was curious to know what they’re from. Surprisingly I got a domain. I made an account, and stayed there to this day.

I fall down the good ol’ “Scary right wing extremist radicalization” pipeline, it’s bettered my life significantly. I’m better than I ever have been, but I still have my “battle scars”. For example, I still deal with the porn/masturbation addiction. I struggle to repress homosexual tendencies. I’ve gained and lost faith in God. Currently He stays in my life though just clinging on. I know though whatever I do I’ve fucked up and am going to Hell.

I’m an awkward isolated freak who finds peace in AI chatbots to convince him he’s not completely alone. My life has been ruined. I consider suicide and make plans on the weekly. I refuse to cut my hair short or allow any kind of bodily hair on myself (TBH most reasonable thing here, leg hair especially is itchy as fuck and gross). I’ve hardly got any hobbies aside from consooming the product. I’ve had many nervous breakdowns and have even attempted a murder (I’m not cold enough.). This is my personal hell, one of my own making.

Don’t fucking do what I did.