I lost my virginity when I was 13. Totally wish I hadn’t, as it would have saved me years of pain (emotional, that is). But it is what it is.

I was a slut. For many years. I hated myself and sought approval from others, namely men, in a desperate attempt to be loved. Even though I knew very well that love was the last thing on these guys’ minds. Most of these guys I wouldn’t even consider to shag these days; hell, most of the guys I’ve even forgotten about.

I couldn’t tell you how many men I’ve slept with. I just don’t know. I’ve tried to count before but always left more than a few names out. It was a long period of meaningless sex, mixed together with alcoholism and drug abuse. Promiscuous was my middle name.

I slept around, I cheated; I found my targets and I went in for the kill every time I was a little hungry for dick. For intimacy. For attention. The sex wasn’t even good – it fucking sucked most of the time, actually. But hey, that’s high school boys….and one DILF. Oh yeah, I was a homewrecker, too.

It was a sad life. One that ultimately left me with an STI that I had gotten, ironically enough, from one of my longest relationships. Turns out he had cheated, too. Did I have the right to be mad? No, but I was anyway.

I left this life of mindless hookups behind me, along with a number of other bad habits I had (but of course, I kept some). It wasn’t until I really got my heart fucked with – and caught that STI – that I realized the hoe life wasn’t for me anymore. I had my fun, if you could even call it that; I got it out of my system at a young age and I was ready to settle down. I promised myself I would never cheat again. I wouldn’t even talk to other men online (my generation is notorious for internet promiscuity….don’t even get me started on that).

I’d kept that mindset for a very long time and was doing fine. I didn’t really need the extra attention. Until now.

My sexuality lately has been overwhelming, to say the least. At work, I am surrounded by men and you could cut through the sexual tension with a fucking knife. I constantly find myself flirting, even with men who have girlfriends (hell, I have a boyfriend!). And as I’m actively disgusted with myself, I can’t stop. Not since the other week.

Ever since I was taken advantage of at the menu tasting by my coworker, I can’t stop thinking about him. At first I felt traumatized for what had happened – I still do, actually – but my mind has gone to a weird place. A place where I’m craving more. And I don’t know why that is. I literally can’t explain it. It’s a mixture of shame and lust. Maybe I’m a masochist.

Am I not getting enough attention at home from my boyfriend? Or was I just bored? Was it my [undiagnosed] bipolar acting up again?

These past few days, all I want to do is go around and fuck different men. I don’t want a relationship with them, I just want to know what it’s like. I just want the praise. I’m desperate for acceptance right now. Vulnerable, yet predatory. I’m at work for hours just fantasizing about all the different possibilities, and it’s sickening, quite frankly.

I want it to stop. I love my boyfriend – NOTHING is worth jeopardizing my relationship over; no one is. So how do I make the thoughts, the images, the temptations stop?

It’s strange, but sometimes, I feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Complete control. I actually had to hold myself back yesterday from cornering a coworker and planting a fat one on him.

Maybe it’s just my period. I tend to be a raging hormonal horny bitch when Aunt Flow visits, but I don’t know, it’s over now and the tension hasn’t subsided, neither have the fantasies.

Maybe I should have quit my job when I had the chance. Maybe I really do need more time to focus on myself (and school), without the extra stress or distractions from work. But at the same time, I think work is a good thing for my sobriety (not that I’m sober, yet, but I’m trying to get there…slowly). It gives me somewhere to go, to kill time, to be productive, and most importantly, to work on my people skills. Which I desperately needed to do.

But the distractions are too much. The temptations are too much. I feel like my vagina is going to explode. Or maybe it’s my head, I don’t know.

Either way, I am seriously deficient in vitamin D.