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Iggy McLulz

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I get that, too, or maybe only something like it. Just above the ass, right around the hips, if I'm carrying something in an awkward way, the muscles right in there will tense up until they cramp and I'm in fucking agony until I can put down whatever it is. It's the price we pay for not having died young and pretty.
That sounds pretty close to what I am going through except I don't know what I did to get this way.
I'm gonna guess aging. Just... not being 19 years old, anymore.
shhhhh! I'm not ready for my body to get old yet, I don't feel old.
 

Scooter

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I'm gonna guess aging. Just... not being 19 years old, anymore.
Or mid 30's. When I hit 40, my body didn't heal like it did before and broke down more often. I pulled a hamstring playing wiffle ball with friends and their kids. LOL Fuck, that was painful. And then it was my groin and back, both of which constantly linger. And my shoulders get sore. How the hell did I get to be 49 years old? Where did the time go?
 

Spatula Khan

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It's all the hardcore shit we do to our bodies when we're young. It wears them out. All that shit you were doing when you were 20 that you thought it was so badass that you came through it without a scrape? You end up paying for ALL that shit around age 40-50. When I was 19, I ate 6 whole habanero peppers and chased each one with a big ass slug of Patron.

I am fucking not looking forward to the day when that catches up to me, lemme tell ya.
 

Iggy McLulz

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I'm in my 40's now. My mind refuses to believe it but my body knows the truth.
 

TheBastard

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For the longest time, I feel as if I have been carrying a 100lb., greasy, fly-laden boulder around my person wherever I go. It's filthy, revolting and disgusting...............most of all it has weighed me down from dragging it around for so long. I started to post about this in the Introductions forum.

As far back as I could remember as a child, I would see my father coming out of my closet at night, sometimes he had been there for over an hour or more based on the time...sometimes hovering over my bed. This went on for years and I was too ashamed, too in shock and too disgusted to say anything to anybody..........and he knew it. There were times I caught him coming into my room early in the morning and I have woken up to him smiling with this "cat who ate the canary" grin, and turn on his heel while saying nothing to walk out. I have woken up with my shirt up over my head, exposing my breasts and I shudder to think of things I might have blocked out or not known about while I was asleep. I began to set up traps, that would make noise if he came in, or barricade my door to keep him out/show proof he had been in there. It lasted from the time I was age 4 or so until I left home and was married. All those years I never new what to do. All the moments I thought I was alone.......I was robbed from my privacy and mentally raped. Id taped up air vents. Took showers in my swim suit. I tried to stay at friends houses every weekend to get away. It nearly ruined my life........I nearly lost my mind. I tried to tell my mom but I never got help. I was destroyed inside over and over each time I saw a new hole in the wall were I had been watched.

When I was 15, I discovered him at my bedroom window with a crazed expression and bulging eyes as I changed my clothes for the evening. Something split in my brain that night and I have never recovered from the trauma. For the rest of my life, I protected myself from him. I lived my entire life knowing that my own father saw me as a sexual object rather than his daughter. Because of his behavior, I wore sweaters in the summer time, clothes over my swimsuit, stuffed towels under the door (and sometimes turned off the lights) while in the bathroom/shower. I believe he is partially to blame for me and my eating habits, as if subconsciously trying to deter advances. On a few occasions, he actually barged in on me in the shower and stayed there (once to punch me repeatedly, while I was mature and naked...…...another time, he came in unannounced and would not leave until I screamed). What pissed me off is that he did this all the way until I was in my early twenties, just before I moved out (though, his preoccupation seemed to be dying down, or getting sneakier, I don't know?), and I called him out finally at the dinner table, in front of my mom and her ditzy, nosey neighbor friend. I just had it. I simply looked at him, and with a trembling fire of fear and anger coming out from within, I mustered a surprisingly collected question. I asked him, "What were u doing in my closet last night?" Did the coward answer? No, he didn't even look at me, and kept eating his food, but I heard that fucker 'shudder' and even saw him shake a little as he ate. My mother just looked at him and kind of frowned, but did nothing. That response, I suppose is part of the reason my mother and I were never as close as I wished we were. Just sweep it all under the carpet...…....just like the good Catholic, middle-class Republicans they are.

Again, at the age of 23, I found a hole drilled in the bathroom floor covered by a tile that could be removed by him for his convenience. After this, he was forced to deal with his obsession and the consequences of his behavior confronted him like that ten-ton boulder.

After he died, we found many "home improvements" constructed to facilitate his obsession ---- laundry shoot craftily designed for his viewing pleasure, "so-called" exhaust fan over the shower, attic crawl space with peep holes galore. He even over-poured concrete outside my bedroom window so he would have a viewing platform.

On top of all this, he was physically, mentally and emotionally abusive to me and to my mother when we were younger. But to me, my whole life swirled around harder when I found out later he was in fact not my real father, and that she, Catherine is not my real mother, but my adopted parents and that my REAL parents were both killed in December 1997, when I was 3 years old. It was like a whole new heartbreak......not just for the lies, but because it now kind of made sense. I would ask myself through tears as a child, "how can a man do this to his own daughter?" As it turns out -- I'm not. It is comforting to know, he will be judged by a Higher Judge than us all, and will answer for all the unspeakable things he did. My step father was a voyeur from his childhood until the day he died. Voyeurism is a serious deviation. Many voyeurs have other sexual aberrations. My step father was also a pedophile. We are waiting for the day when the bodies will be found buried in the backyard. None of us will be surprised. I wish all those disgusting, and revolting deviants out there would get help...if there is someone out there like this, and you are reading this...….....GET HELP NOW. I PRAY you can live the rest of your life with your choices...….. GOD Help YOU!!!!

Anyways, last week was Fathers Day. Seems I drink a lot more in June no matter where or whatever is going on in life. If I've been a bitch to you than I am sorry. :/
How do I feel? …….."betrayed". I'll get over it. I do ever year.

What's your current mood?

TFL;DFR

That's Too Fucking Long; Didn't Fucking Read.

Holy shit

You's a wordy mofo, ain't ya?
 

CorsetKat

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I'm lurking much of my similar pain is due to years of mostly mild car accidents. Foot and arms were always in action on impact. That joints and jams your arms and legs back, into your knees, hips back and elbows shoulder back. Same with Duden impacts from sports injuries etc. we walk away thinking we are ok, but it all effects us. Each one throws our bones and joints slightly out of whack. Our muscles compensate and start to grow in slightly different ways, pulling us further out of whack. If not fixated this just slowly progresses till you start having those changes close down and pinch nerves that used to have room and need to not be touched. It starts to hurt, inflamation starts, muscles respond by try to hold postures that make us hurt less, this worsens the problem. Till you address the starting points (fingers hands feet) and correct the behaviors causing that pain, you won't fix deeper pains like hips shoulders and back. If your posture is off, it's an almost fool proof way to indicate you have deeper issues.
 

Iggy McLulz

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My body has been through some shit too. Mostly from back in the days when I used to drink. I'd get into an occasional fight, fall down because I was too wasted, a few car accidents so minor that they were never even reported. Couple wonderful exs that thought I'd stick around after beating the shit out of me. Pregnancy fucks your body up too.
 

Spatula Khan

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I had something happen a little over a year ago -- missed a step when going down some stairs, just my heel connected with it, but at an angle, which cause that ankle to laterally roll out from under me and sent me down onto the knee on that side -- hard.

A year later, I notice a hard thing "floating" over that kneecap. It's probably a bone chip. I don't know for sure. But the weak ankles are from childhood. When I was 12, I worked a paper route that my parents volunteered me for. I say "volunteered" because I never filled out an application, never went to an interview -- fuck's sake, even back then it wasn't actually legal for a kid under 16 to work in the state of Oregon, you needed a work permit, and you had to be minimum 16 years old to get one.

So I was out dropping newspapers on doorsteps at 5 in the fucking morning, dark as pitch out, and I busted my ankle on a flight of jagged, uneven, steep-as-fuck concrete steps 'cause I couldn't see shit.

Ever since that morning, my left ankle has been utterly worthless.

So, yeah. Shit you do to your body when you're young, it either stays with you or catches up on you.
 

Sharona

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Overexcited. too much caffeine.
 

Swamp-Duck

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Tired stoned and achy.
 

offwidthe

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:GoodPost:
 

Sharona

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النص المترجم
 

Oliver Shagnasty

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About to be drunk
 

Krieg

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Illuminant. Yes. That would suffice.