Ok, so I've been up for about a half an hour since this "nightmare" that I had. I don't remember the beginning but, it was short, extremely vivid and has me a little shooken up.
Ok, so I was at my ex boyfriends house. His mom had this extremely amazing camera which she let me use to take some quick pictures of. So I proceed to the back door, snap a picture of the sky from the back porch. Then I end up towards the end of the back yard by the fence while holding the camera on an angle. I take a picture of the backyard and the back of his house and review the picture. There, I see a little girl, in a purple dress with curly long brown hair bending over picking a dandelion. I look away from the camera in awe checking to make sure I'm not seeing anything, but low and behold I am, I just captured a ghost on camera. She was freakishly see through but yet so bold. I then run around to the front of the house avoiding her area. I run in the house and show the picture to my ex boyfriend telling him "do you see anything wrong in this picture!?" He then says, no. Then I zoom in on her, and he says "wow that's insane" and calls his mom over. I then show her, and it begins to get darker and darker in the house while she just has a blank stare on her face. She runs upstairs disappearing saying, "someone turn some lights on in this house" meanwhile, I literally cannot breathe, I am literally having a panic attack in my dream as my ex boyfriend picks me up and holds me. I then awaken from this physically terrifying "dream" with my mouth open, and I'm stuck. Literally stuck for twenty minutes in a daze and I cannot move. After I actually come to my senses I'm scared, terrified and in a lot of pain. As of right now, about an hour after my dream, my legs hurt really bad. Like they got ran over or something. A very dull pain shooting from my hip down to my big toe. I have never EVER experienced a "dream" like this before, and if anyone has any insight, or opinion as to why I woke up in pain from this, it would be appreciated. I'm honestly still in shock from how vivid this little girl was. I'm too afraid to go back to bed and rest peacefully.

I'm 19 years old and for my entire life I've been having troubles feeling anything at all. I always thought there was some logical and simple explanation to why I wasn't like everyone else, and I assumed it would heal with time, but it didn't. It just keeps getting worse. First let me begin with that I'm completely unable to open up to other people. I have never opened up. To anyone. If I'm even close to doing it I feel disgusted by myself, I get nausea and an urge to flee. I've also never cared like others. I can't really feel empathy. Or I mean, I can, for like animals and my family, but no one else. I'm literally serious when I say my best friend could die tomorrow and I wouldn't be able to feel a thing. Obviously I'd think it's sad, but it wouldn't effect me on an emotional level.

I hide this part of me, and I certainly don't talk about it with anyone. I want to be normal but I just can't. I have tried to involve myself in other people, in relationships, and even - in my sillier moments - in love. But it doesn't work. Something in me is broken or missing. I love my immediate family, but that's about it. I can lie without feeling any kind of remorse, I manipulate people very easily, and when someone really gets on my bad side, I just attack their weaknesses and break them down with words. It's terrible, I know, but I can't stop. Even as I write it, I know I say it's terrible, but I don't feel terrible. I just know that it's not how a person should act. I could never physically hurt another person, but not because it would make me feel bad but more because I know it's wrong.

My condition is just getting worse, I've started to distance myself from everybody because I feel so tired of wearing a mask and constantly faking to like what they like or play their stupid games. I don't love others. I'm incapable of feeling on a deeper level, there are no strong emotions in me. I feel narcisstic but at the same time I hate myself. I can get furious very easily but it goes away as quickly as it comes. I haven't had such a bad childhood but I mean my mother was going through her hardest part of life when I was a kid, and she took it out on me a lot. Sometimes physically but mostly mentally, such as I constantly heard that I was a bad kid, and bad news, and she blamed me for a lot of stuff that wasn't really my fault. She changed and got so much better when I was like 13 or something and now she's the best mom ever and apologized 200 times but I can't seem to let go. It's stuck with me.. I'm seriously worried that my condition will become worse and something bad will happen... What's wrong with me?

I don't know whats going on with me, its getting worse and im getting tired. Im a boy, 20 years old and I can't remember as many details as I would like to remember about who and what I was before that 'something' happened thats why I'll be vague with some things. If you think you may have and idea or have some information or a good advice on this please feel free to answer cause I'm desperate.
I've been in and out of psychiatric institutions since high school and I've been diagnosed multiple times by different doctors (Antisocial personality disorder, Borderline personality disorder, Anxiety, Depression, Schizophrenia Paranoid, Schizoaffective disorder, Bipolar not otherwise specified.) When I was younger I was pretty much in control of myself, some things with me were off but nothing that really bothered me, things like excessive boredom, intrusive thoughts, derealization and depersonalizations and not being able to not to fake every social interaction, a giant disgust for every human, an entertained mind with every mechanic answer, things people could just not see, I planned everything I said and everything I did, it was automatic, It was sorta exciting getting everything I wanted, I stole things like whole outfits in expensive clothes stores even though I had the money just because it was exciting and made me feel good, I abused all kinda of drugs and people in a way, I got sorta lost in the drug path, I started getting psychotic and I did a lot of crazy things like going out of town, not sleeping, spending weeks on the street, drugs, wild parties, sex with strangers, but then a day I started to notice that I wasn't so sure of what I was doing, something that I think I never felt before, I was kinda lost, I was kinda alone and I didn't knew what was the next step to take, like if the part of me that was sure of everything and had everything sorted out disappeared, the drugs were getting down and I was so exhausted and desperate feeling that I couldn't go out for more, now i'm clean except for weed (auto medication) I became aware of every little thing but didn't know how to deal with it or what was the importance of everything, I have a cloud in my mind and im not sure of anything I don't know how to explain it, its driving me crazy, I want to stab my face multiple times after I stab everyone else, I always thought that in a way (a proxemic way) I can read peoples minds but after this happened it was like their thoughts and expression became sharp and aggressive to me, and now its like they can hear my thoughts too in that way also, something happened to my nerves, I can't be relaxed, not in my house, not in my bed, not in my sleep, I just can't relax its like If I am possessed and my brain and inside my body its burning I have ricing and negative thoughts, i'm angry and irritable to the core, to the point that if some one talks to me in that moment I snap and attack them with everything I have and I hurt myself cause I need it to stop now, it so much. Everyday I end up screaming and scratching my face because I don't quite get what im feeling but it is a lot, I can't concentrate, I can't decide between stupid easy things, I feel guilty all the time, I can't organize my mind and put whats first first, that makes me angry as ###$, I can't sleep well, I have panic attacks, night terrors, my stomach hurst and I need to throw up since I wake up, this are just some things that are happening, there are a lot more but I don't know what its important what its not, I also some times experience selective mutism when some one asks me what is happening because my brain does not know the answer or at least thats what I think. No one has been able to help me, not the doctors, not in the clinic , I don't trust anybody and im fearing that Im gonna have to kill myself because I won't live like this my whole life, and its not getting better, 2 years now, I feel hopeless. Alexithymia and mixed bipolar episode are things that can describe...

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From what I have been told, I was talking and walking by 9 months old. Perhaps it is an exaggeration, but I can attest to the ease I have experienced in school, with dealing with problems, and assessing the “right” behavior in situations.

I have had one imaginary friend, from what I can remember, since I was about two years old. I remember when he first knocked on the door, a back door with a mud room in my house, and I let him in. I would tease my Dad that he was my boy friend. He kept me wonderful company and was an enlightening, safe harbor. I remember another time when someone entered through this same door. I remember that I was handed a stuffed animal by this man, but I cannot recall any more.

When I was seven, I remember feeling sure that I could survive on my own, if only my parents would let me alone. In kindergarten, I could read chapter books and would forge my mother’s signature on the homework list each week. I remember wanting the independence from my mother to moderate my own life.

My favorite thing to do at that time was read. I had a children’s encyclopedia and learned about sexual reproduction in this fashion. I discovered an obsession with looking at Michael Angelo’s “David” sculpture. I would sit and look at it for different durations each day.

Between seven and nine, my parents split up (though, I had suspected it for over a year). At this time I began having very sexual, very vivid dreams. One dream I remember was of my self in a hotel room, seducing a much older, ugly man. I believe between six and seven I was sexually abused again, by the same close friend of my family that had been in my life much earlier, and that I had let into my home through the mud room door. I cannot remember it happening, but I have returned to a certain event when I remember I was alone with this person, and there are blank spots in my memory.

I started touching my self with my dolls or stuffed animals around this time, I don’t really understand why. I would “tell” my sister’s fortune by looking into my crystal ball. Around the same time I stopped feeling normal. When I saw myself in the mirror, I felt an intense, unnatural feeling. It was almost disgust. It increased when I had on feminine clothing. I still feel it, sometimes seemingly random and sometimes by noticeable triggers, to this day.

When I was nine, I realized that my father was not scary. I saw that he would raise his voice to intimidate me- and, I saw that it was just that- and that I was capable of it too. This led me to a strange relationship with aggression. I began to “dominate” my siblings, feel an anger that was confusing and overwhelming. I felt as if something in me was red fire hot, and I had no control over it, nor the ability to stop it, nor the knowledge of how it started. I felt like a victim while I victimized other people. And still, though less frequently and with more control to mask it, I have this sensation of being a puppet. At this time I also began trying to study witch craft and wanted to be a vampire. I would mediate and attempt to make spells.

By the time I was eleven, I was not only participating in on-line sex and wishing to be kissed by a boy at school, but I was finding attendance at school more difficult, as well as having increased bouts with anxiety and depression. This only worsened as I got older. And by fourteen, I was full blown suicidal. My parents attempted to get me help, but the doctors, therapists, teachers, and medication were so easily manipulated that no one could touch me.

I would get into these crazed, raging fits of frustration and aggression. I would yell, scream, shake, cry, weep, sob; I was frightening. I started “cutting” which was mostly scratching. I started messing around with older guys. I started lying and going out and trying to drink/party as much as possible. When my father would have a chance to sit and talk to me, he would try to hug me, but I would yell insults until he would give up. I remember ...

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My mom wants me to get rid of my scars...But i find i really don't want too. I don't not want to wake up and not see them there on my left shoulder, on my left wrist and my right hip bone. Sick? Very, i know. My own mom looked at me like i was crazy when i told her, which i probably am. No healthy person cuts themselves, that's obvious. Or at least in my case, used too.

I stopped cutting maybe a couple of months before high school graduation but it wasn't due to my mother finding me out. Instead my boyfriend did and made me promise to never do it again, cutting my mother to the punch line. My mom found out a month after him, i believe. She didn't believe me when i told her i stopped, so i gave her the scissors i used to hurt myself. That was my second step to stopping i guess. My third had to be when she got me medicine to take away the scars...but now on the fourth step, actually putting the stuff on, i'm stuck.

I've put it on once or twice but not religiously. I hate the idea of them not being there. They give me comfort and make me feel better. Am i wrong in wanting them there?