Deleted member 6164
Lay flat when the war comes
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2020
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I’m 17. When I was 8, 9, 10, 11 years old or so, whenever I was left alone with a toddler in let’s say a daycare, or at a family’s house, I would often abuse them (not sexually or whatever, I hate pedophiles, I myself was molested when I was 7 or 8 by my cousin). I would abuse emotionally by snatching the toy they were playing with out of their hand, changing the TV channel on them, pushing them around a bit, but not too much. Just kind of testing the waters to see what would make them cry. I would do this privately when no one was looking (I assume) and since they were little, babies crying is normal and nobody would really think anything of it. I got a kick out of it, and enjoyed it in a weird way I guess. I knew it was wrong, but it made me feel good, made me feel powerful in a way since I didn’t have any power over my life due to my helicopter parents. I don’t regret my actions though.
