u/applec0ring

im looking for a man named ricky. he has to be in his mid 20s by now , he’s a drug user and has long brown hair and a few moles on his face, two on his cheek and one more toward his neck. im having dreams about him every night and i think we are meant to be. if thise is you or sounds like someone you know please message me im serious

im a 17 year old girl, im struggling to gel with others and im fairly unpleasant because im looking for a man. i like punk rock music and sewing and reading and watching movies.

ive already posted recently but i dont have friends to tell this sort of thing. i keep having dreams about dating this one man, this one junkie, and im quite sure it’s my future. but now i really want to date a junkie, as stupid and unhealthy as that is. i want to be in a horrible abusive relationship with a man who shoots heroin with me. am i pathetic and beyond help?

Every night for months I have had the same dream (or type of dream) about being in an abusive relationship with a man on drugs. He’s the same man every time and I can tell you the exact spots of moles on his face, and the dreams are always rather mundane and based in reality. We’re just both on drugs while it happens. Is this my future? Will this happen to me? I’ve had this dream in the past but not every single night like this.

I’m 17 now, and I feel the least adult I have in my entire life. My whole life is reigned by calories and exercise and weight, so much so I don’t even know what senior year will look like coming up because I’m so distracted by these numbers. I’m afraid for my senior year, I’m afraid to turn 18. When I’m an adult, I won’t have a use anymore, since most people only use me for sex since I am vulnerable and unhappy. I don’t even enjoy it. I hate sex because I hate how I look, and they know it.

I can tell my family’s curse of schizophrenia is catching up to me. Everyone gets it around this age, no matter what. It’s making me miserable, my depression worsening more and more knowing I can’t be the sober perfect one who gets married to a nice man and has children and a dog my family wanted. I don’t want any of that. My dream is to make movies, but I can’t even study it without sinking. I’m really sick in so many ways and I’m not ready to get better. I’m afraid to turn 18, to graduate, to be an adult, because then I will be useless. Men won’t be attracted to me anymore and I’ll be a pathetic creature at home, starving myself until I’m nothing. I’m unhappy. I just want to be happy, that’s all I want to do and be. But instead I sit here, starving myself and letting men sexually berate me. I’m tired.