Updated: Jun 25
Tears of sadness and confusion on the faces of my mourners. Had I not already been dead it would break my heart. My urn sitting under the warm light as it holds my ashes. I always knew that I wanted to leave this Earth the same way as I had lived it...FREELY. I didn’t want to be bound under society's feet for the rest of eternity. Trapped with no way to get out once they found out my truth. The tears of confusion from my mourners trying to figure out how I died at only thirty years old. It wasn’t suicide nor was it bad health. I didn’t have any enemies nor did I have any drinking or drug habits. No, it wasn’t one of the average deaths known among my peers. It was a freak accident..a literal freak accident.
What my peers didn’t know about me was my addiction to sexual kinks. My two favorites happened to be excessive choking and plush love. Meaning I was into a form of BDSM and things with stuffed animals, preferably teddy bears. I enjoyed random sessions maybe 2 to 4 times every week with a random person I met through a site. There were times when I had gotten lightheaded from being choked so intensely by delicate manicured hands. The plush love had only started a few months before my death. Well, this last night happened to be just that...my last night. During a night of heated sex, I dressed up as a teddy bear. I took it a step too far. I cut the head off of a lifesize bear and cut holes in the legs, arms, hands, and feet. I wanted to be the teddy bear as well as be inside of it. I cut another hole for my Johnson to get through so that I was able to handle business.
As things got heated I told my partner to tie a belt around my neck. I told her to pull it as tight as she possibly could. The tighter she pulled the bigger the climax would be for the both of us. She pulled and pulled and pulled until I saw this bright white light. I thought it was me having the biggest orgasm of my life. I was excited, but also disappointed at the same time. I didn’t want to experience such a huge relief at only thirty years old. What I didn’t realize was the light was getting brighter and brighter. I couldn’t see or hear anything else that was around me. All of a sudden everything went dark...I was dead. I had died. Well, that was what the doctors had told me at least. I had been dead for close to an hour after choking on my bile with no way for it to come out without medical help.
As I look out at the faces of my family and friends, I realize that this death is what’s best for all of us. I am aware that it is taking y’all by surprise, but I had to share my truth. I had to share it so that once I buried them no one could dig them up. No one will have the chance to throw it back in my face. That is why I decided on the ashes. I may stand in front of you all alive today, but just know that I’ve died twice. Once during my outlandish sexual desires and now in front of your very eyes. I am dying at the stares of disgust, dying at the stares of compassion, dying having to speak this truth out loud to those I swore to keep it from forever. I no longer wish to be revived from this death. I no longer want to be consumed and taken out by my desires. I want to continue living a healthy life. Today I burn my addiction to sex.