Okay, I might be able to have you read this
A long time ago I couldn't tell anyone how much I was struggling. How depressed I was, how much I hated myself, how much I wanted to die... I didn't want to worry people, and I didn't want anyone to intervene.
To cope with this feeling of being alone in this I compensated with fantasy. I played out scenarios in my head of like someone finding out how bad it really was and caring and wanting to be there for me. Someone finding out about my self harm or that I was starving myself and being shocked and upset by it and telling me I didn't deserve the stuff I was doing to myself.
I would play these scenarios out in my head to fall asleep.
You asked me if I knew what it would look like. Part of the reason I feel so disgusting is that not only do I know what it would look like, I've spent countless hours of my life fantasizing about it.
God I would rather die than admit this. Being hugged and held. Having someone put their arms around me and feeling safe and cared about and accepted. But, once again, in a child way, not an adult or romantic way.
But I feel disgusting and like no one should be able to even look at me, let alone touch me. I feel dirty for letting myself think about it. I feel unworthy and undeserving.
It's different than sex or something. In that situation the motivations are very different and these feelings don't really apply. Ironically, I don't feel shame or guilt or disgust about that.