Visited a prostitute last week
Last week I visited a prostitute, this is not a random event for me. It has been a deep source of shame anger and embarr***ment plus financial worries. I lost the connection between love and *** a long time back, it started as a foreign adventure and become more local, closer to home when a consultant psychiatrist suggested visiting my ex girlfriend in Hong Kong may not be the best move 2 months after being sectioned, sadly he was probably wrong and I got into the habit of buying a substitute when my option was turned down, ugh, what a foolish way to act, though I forgive myself as the stacks were high and the fear rampant. UK secure psychiatric wards are not the safest of places and we still don't relly understand completely the contortions of emotional distress in foreign places.
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