Fraroderini
Member
Hi everyone,
This period is one of the most devastating on my whole lifetime, and some numbers keep coming out everywhere and are always the same. So I wanted to figure out whether they could be linked to these horrible days or not.
Since December/November 2022 I kept seeing number 27 displayed everywhere. Clocks, battery percentage, other percentages, people’s conversations, news, people’s statements.
On February 4th I have watched a short psychological movie, by Ari Aster. It was about s3xual abuse and r4pe. Basically this is the plot: a son falls in love with his father and abuses him for many years (scenes are not shown, but left to imagination), until the father one day starts writing a book where he describes the horrors perpetrated by his son. The son finds the book and tries to destroy it, the father tries to run away with the book and gets hit by a truck. After the father’s funeral, the mother, who knew and witnessed everything since day one, confronts his son, they end up in a fight and she eventually kills him.
HIGHLY NOT RECOMMENDED, DO NOT WATCH.
After watching the short, that evening I had a panic attack. I felt deeply traumatized. I had no more hunger, no more sexual desire, depersonalization, derealization, felt entirely disconnected from the world, as if I was living another reality. I was really surprised, because I had never, ever had a sexual abuse in my whole life.
I found a psychiatrist who really helped me out. She told me it was not PTSD as I thought, she gave me some medicines and things got better in a few days. I found in her a really helpful person.
On march 23rd I suddenly thought, instead, of something that had happened to me on September 24th. I had a sexual relationship with a 41 year old man. I was 18 at the time (I am currently 19).
We had sex in a consensual and conscious manner, but I felt that something was wrong. I didn’t feel abused, I felt like I was doing the wrong thing. I had always suppressed my bisexuality during childhood and teenage, so I felt like having that sexual episode was wrong. And I remember that I didn’t like his body, even if initially he was respectful, I didn’t really want to have sex with him. There were some parts I liked, tho. I was curious. But something that really annoyed me was that he kept touching me for a while after we had finished, in a sort of funny way, but it was just cringe for me. And I said cringe, not abusing. I wanted to go away and I was repented of what I did. It was so sick and horrible the idea that I had sex with a man who was 20 years older than me. We had a conversation before and after the intercourse, he was a nice person after all. But there were some little things that I hated. And I wondered, on march 23rd, if that one was an abuse.
My fear was not the intercourse itself. I was more scared I fitted in the definition of “sexual assault” and therefore I could have developed PTSD. I really want to say that from September 24th 2022 to February, I was completely fine. My sexuality was okay, I have thought of that episode but I was more repented, not scared. I was completely normal for months, my life was okay.
And my current fear is this. I am now a bit scared of sex and sexuality. I don’t know if I can consider this an abuse or not. If I say to myself “it was not abuse” I feel okay. And viceversa.
Now, from the period of February 4th until now, I had ALWAYS seen 27 everywhere, and more and more insistently. Then at a certain point I started seeing 46. 46 jumps in a little bit less than 27.
I am sorry for the extremely detailed long message, but I had never felt more depressed in my whole life. In case my brain registered this as “abuse”, I could develop PTSD and my life could be considered a total shit.
I really feel helpless and I don’t know what do to. If I think about what happened on September 24th, I don’t feel scared. Because until February that memory was okay in my mind, I lived perfectly happy, I had other problems, other concerns.
I am so sorry to write this but I feel helpless and hopeless. It’s been months trying to figure out what this 27 could mean. It’s torturing me.
This period is one of the most devastating on my whole lifetime, and some numbers keep coming out everywhere and are always the same. So I wanted to figure out whether they could be linked to these horrible days or not.
Since December/November 2022 I kept seeing number 27 displayed everywhere. Clocks, battery percentage, other percentages, people’s conversations, news, people’s statements.
On February 4th I have watched a short psychological movie, by Ari Aster. It was about s3xual abuse and r4pe. Basically this is the plot: a son falls in love with his father and abuses him for many years (scenes are not shown, but left to imagination), until the father one day starts writing a book where he describes the horrors perpetrated by his son. The son finds the book and tries to destroy it, the father tries to run away with the book and gets hit by a truck. After the father’s funeral, the mother, who knew and witnessed everything since day one, confronts his son, they end up in a fight and she eventually kills him.
HIGHLY NOT RECOMMENDED, DO NOT WATCH.
After watching the short, that evening I had a panic attack. I felt deeply traumatized. I had no more hunger, no more sexual desire, depersonalization, derealization, felt entirely disconnected from the world, as if I was living another reality. I was really surprised, because I had never, ever had a sexual abuse in my whole life.
I found a psychiatrist who really helped me out. She told me it was not PTSD as I thought, she gave me some medicines and things got better in a few days. I found in her a really helpful person.
On march 23rd I suddenly thought, instead, of something that had happened to me on September 24th. I had a sexual relationship with a 41 year old man. I was 18 at the time (I am currently 19).
We had sex in a consensual and conscious manner, but I felt that something was wrong. I didn’t feel abused, I felt like I was doing the wrong thing. I had always suppressed my bisexuality during childhood and teenage, so I felt like having that sexual episode was wrong. And I remember that I didn’t like his body, even if initially he was respectful, I didn’t really want to have sex with him. There were some parts I liked, tho. I was curious. But something that really annoyed me was that he kept touching me for a while after we had finished, in a sort of funny way, but it was just cringe for me. And I said cringe, not abusing. I wanted to go away and I was repented of what I did. It was so sick and horrible the idea that I had sex with a man who was 20 years older than me. We had a conversation before and after the intercourse, he was a nice person after all. But there were some little things that I hated. And I wondered, on march 23rd, if that one was an abuse.
My fear was not the intercourse itself. I was more scared I fitted in the definition of “sexual assault” and therefore I could have developed PTSD. I really want to say that from September 24th 2022 to February, I was completely fine. My sexuality was okay, I have thought of that episode but I was more repented, not scared. I was completely normal for months, my life was okay.
And my current fear is this. I am now a bit scared of sex and sexuality. I don’t know if I can consider this an abuse or not. If I say to myself “it was not abuse” I feel okay. And viceversa.
Now, from the period of February 4th until now, I had ALWAYS seen 27 everywhere, and more and more insistently. Then at a certain point I started seeing 46. 46 jumps in a little bit less than 27.
I am sorry for the extremely detailed long message, but I had never felt more depressed in my whole life. In case my brain registered this as “abuse”, I could develop PTSD and my life could be considered a total shit.
I really feel helpless and I don’t know what do to. If I think about what happened on September 24th, I don’t feel scared. Because until February that memory was okay in my mind, I lived perfectly happy, I had other problems, other concerns.
I am so sorry to write this but I feel helpless and hopeless. It’s been months trying to figure out what this 27 could mean. It’s torturing me.
