Welcome to the dwelling place of my insecurities.

Be forewarned, here they have power. This is there place, we are merely guests to my personal demons. Should they deem you worthy, you might even live.

Let's meet the hosts, shall we?

Gynophobia: Ah, my old friend. A fear of women, crippling in it's strength, eroding in it's constant nature. If you're a female, expect me to mentally know you'll let me down. It's not sexism, but a crippling fear that every time I confide in any woman, they'll somehow tear me down. Yeah, stupid, right? You try living with a voice that, even as you're hugging your best female friend, it whispers "She doesn't care anymore. You're a burden to her. You drain her. She'll hate you soon."

[i]Ego: To put it lightly, I have no inflated ego. I don't like myself. At all. Not my skin, not my hair, not my voice, not my body, not my mind, not my life, not my smile, not my scars, not my past, and not my future. If I could, I'd leave myself and never return, a kind of permanent out-of-body experience. Wanna trade me lives? I'll throw in a car. Or dogs. Or anything. Please.