40. I was raped by a woman who got me drunk and forced herself on me, saying she would say I raped her if I didn’t do it.

“I was raped by a guy at 11 years old. It hurt physically and I thought that I had done something wrong and was ashamed so I never told my parents. It fucked up my sexuality as well as my psyche for a long time. At 18 I was raped by a woman who got me drunk and forced herself on me, saying she would say I raped her if I didn’t do it. Again I felt dirty and ashamed. It took years for me to talk about either and realize that it wasn’t my fault. I’ve since found that most men (that are raped by women at least) are often brushed off when trying to talk about it and aren’t taken seriously because ‘guys are supposed to want to get laid”. This is NOT the case.”
—fadedmouse

41. I was sadistically molested by an uncle.

“I was sadistically molested by an uncle when I was pretty young, probably four or so. When I was 16 my parents sent me to a Mormon treatment facility in Utah, where I was raped by another inmate (for lack of a better term).

I don’t really…function. I have no idea how much of the way I am is because of what happened, or because of the way I was raised, or just who I am. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

I have trouble holding down a job or committing to anything. I dropped out of high school. I remember before life fell apart I did fairly well, good grades. Wanted to go to college and everything. I don’t really have friends anymore. I often question if I ever did, or if people just tolerated me. I’m not all that interesting. I don’t have any hobbies or anything I care about anymore.
I’ve attempted suicide more times than I can remember. Most of the time I end up not following through. The few times I’ve gone all the way I somehow survived, only racking up medical bills and probably brain damage.

I guess none of the actually answers the question. I’ll try again.

As a guy, it seems like it’s incredibly difficult to experience any sort of human connection, platonic or otherwise. Being friends with women is impossible because I think I come off as creepy, or like I’m trying to sleep with them or something. Friendship between men seems to be awkward and arms-length, where no one can actually care about someone else. And then on top of that, trying to figure out when someone can be considered a sexual entity is pretty much impossible for me. My lines of sexuality are very blurred, so that may be part of the problem.

Pretty much it seems like it doesn’t matter at all. Life isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that if I try to express caring for a guy, I’m creepy. It isn’t fair that I can’t interact with women without being seen as a threat. It isn’t fair that when I’m friendly to kids, their parents pull them away because I may be a molester. I’m a victim, but it’s not like I can tell anyone that. So I just isolate myself and wait until I can build up the courage to end it for good.”
—throwaway_is_taken1