"It's been awhile since I visited this site. I love the new design, everything seems more organized and much prettier! I've also checked out many pedosexuality related forums but they all seemed messy, but I like this one and I like this site so I decided to register here.
I've written bunches about pedosexuality, amongst many other things, and discuss it a lot in my autobiography too. I have a site, but it's password protected because I'd surely become well known if I went public about my views and sexuality and my life in general. I'll have to decide if it's worth ruining my career (gymnastics coach/circus coach/circus performer) in order to spread awareness of such issues.
Anyway, hi everyone!"
"This is my story of how I got kicked out of my apartment.
My case manager, Chad, was checking my bank statements and noticed a $250 purchase from a drug company. Soon after, he inspected my apartment while I wasn't home and he found syringes and scalpels. Once I got back to the apartment, Chad and Max came over to question me about some things. First they asked me about the drug purchase. I told them it's personal and I don't want to talk about it. They told me I have to talk to them about these things or they'll discharge me from the program. I told them it was a medication I purchased, that I used to be prescribed a similar kind while at the Cove, but my insurance wouldn't cover those types of medications anymore, but I got desperate so I purchased it myself. They asked what kind it was. I said it's used for different things, but I use it for antilibidinal purposes. They told me I can't have that here and that I'm spending way too much money.
Then they asked me about the syringes and scalpels, I tried to make an excuse for both. I told them that the medication I was prescribed at the Cove was an injectable, which is true, so in case I ever got that medication again then I'd have syringes ready for it. As for the scalpels, I showed them my first aid kit and told them I just liked to be prepared. They seemed skeptical of these explanations, especially when it came to the scalpels, but they left for the moment. Probably within less than an hour, they called, I didn't answer, but they left a message on my answering machine saying they are going to pick me up and suspend me.
I was worried about what might happen, so I drove to my gym to pretend I had work before they could come pick me up. Then they called and said I have to go to the Cove by 9:00 pm or they'll change the locks to my apartment door and charge me $200 for it. So now it seemed I didn't have much choice. They said I'd be suspended until Tuesday, at which point I'd then have to attend a meeting. I didn't want to go to that meeting. I thought they might send me to the mental institution or make it so that I couldn't be alone anymore or something of that sort. I called my parents, which is something I really didn't like the idea of, but I thought it might be better than what they'd do to me at the Cove. I talked with my parents and basically said maybe I'd have to come home because my living situation over here wouldn't be good anymore. So I still had to go to the Cove for a night, but in the morning my dad came to pick me up. We still had to have a meeting before my dad could take me away from there. They couldn't tell my dad anything without my consent, and I was dreading what might be said, so I wouldn't give my consent.
So Jesus and Benny took me into the office to talk to me alone. Jesus showed me some of the items he had confiscated from my room. Such items included "Age Of Innocence", "Childlove Manifesto", "Show Me!", "Symbols Used By Pedophiles", "Truth About The Sex Offender Panic". They told me they're not here to judge me, but that this is questionable material. He knew I worked at a job with minors, and so he asked me if I ever crossed any boundaries. I thought in my mind, "How do you define crossing boundaries? I see parents kiss their children on the lips, are they child molestors?" Before I could answer, he rambled on about some stuff about boundaries and asked if I ever had minors over at my apartment. I said no. They asked why I have so many books about sexuality. I told them I'm writing a book about sexuality, and a lot of it will be about paraphilias, people don't understand paraphiles, and if you don't understand them it's hard to treat them, I want to help paraphiles. Jesus asked me if I know anyone that suffers from any paraphilias. I said, "Well, I suffer myself, and I want to be able to help others that do as well".
At this point, I realized my dad's going to ask so many questions, and it might be easier to just get it all over with because it's not going to be easy to hide this stuff from him forever. I told them that I'd rather just get it over with so I gave them consent to talk to my dad. Jesus started off by reading the titles of the books and articles he confiscated. He then told him about the syringes and scalpels and they asked me why I had those. I told them I didn't think I wanted to say. They told me I didn't have to but they thought in their professional opinion it'd help them help me. I told them they might send me to the mental institution if I told them. They assured me they wouldn't do that. I asked them if everything I said was confidential. They assured me it was. I told them that I just get a lot of weird sexual ideas, and I had some ideas of ways I could use syringes sexually and that's why I had them. They then asked what the scalpels were for. I told them that I just get a lot of thoughts of hurting myself, and the last time I mutilated myself I used blunt scissors, so I thought scalpels would be safer and less damaging if I were to hurt myself again. My dad asked how I mutilated myself. I kept opening my mouth to try to answer, but I was too emotional and my voice was shaking too much to get it to come out. It took several tries until I finally cried it out, "I cut open my scrotum!" I must have been crying for 10 seconds before anyone said anything. I don't know if they were just shocked or if they weren't sure what to say or if silence was simply appropriate for that moment.
They asked why I would hurt myself like that. I told them I just get so frustrated with my sexuality and I hate myself because of my sexuality and so I want to hurt myself because of it. The way my dad responded to this was so surprising to me. He's still hyperreligious, but it seems some of his views have changed a lot. He came to recognize how much sexual repression harmed me, and he actually expressed his regret for raising me that way. It was amazing to hear him say that. No one ever asked explicitly if I'm a pedophile, and my dad has never said whether he thinks I am or not, but he knows I have psychosexual problems, and told me he hopes I'd not feel so guilty about sexuality anymore because it's natural to be sexual. These views were things never expressed to me as child, I picked up quite the opposite while I was growing up. So it seemed this whole conference ended up bringing some resolution between my parents, and it felt cathartic. Regardless, once it was all over, I knew my psychosexual problems still remained, and even if my parents were more excepting of sexuality, I still didn't know how I could deal with my own in a healthy way."
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