I've had dp/dr, emphasis on the DR, for about 4-5 months. I'm 19 years old. I know I got it after a visit to the ER a few months ago for chest pains, which turned out to be acid reflux. On top of that, I was and still am having migraines and very intense sharp pains in my head. I do have an appt with a neurologist.
Anyway, the world has felt completely fake and dreamy to me starting a few weeks or days after that visit to the hospital. I know my anxiety spiked an extraordinary amount, the worst it's ever been. I've been suffering from panic attacks since I was about 9 or 10 -- I remember sort of feeling derealized once back then too. However I didn't process it as intensely, so it went away quickly, plus I was young and my mind was occupied almost always.
I'm just terrified at the moment, because I've always been tortured by existential thoughts to begin with, but having dp/dr makes them so much worse. Unbearably worse -- they would send me into a spiralling panic where I'd just cry and cry for days on end, and I hate being alone with my thoughts -- I've been sleeping in my mom's bed This dreamy feeling is so real, I can't always convince myself that I'm not dreaming, or that the world ISN'T fake. And that is what's been getting worse. It's like my brain is convincing me everything is fake,oh well. I feel completely hopeless at this point.
My panic attacks lately have been about how I can't believe I'm going through this. I can't believe this is actually happening, so my brain says "it's not" and now I'm fk'd.
Will everything ever feel real again?
Will I ever enjoy life again?
I think another reason I'm stuck in this is because I'm not in school, and I'm unemployed, There's only so much I can do to get a job. I've applied everywhere.
I have memory problems, panic attacks in which I feel as if I've dropped acid, and the world feels so fake I can't believe it's not. Writing all this down/talking about it does not help one bit. I've purchased 2 books in the mail that are supposed to help me--one should come tomorrow, so wish me luck xx
This is one fk'd up anxiety symptom.
(Hard to process it even is one anymore)

Hello, I'm a cutter...

Why do I cut? What turned me into a self hater who scars his body and often wants to die?

I'm a 44 year old man who has seen his world fall apart two years ago. I was seriously injured on the job to the point of full disability. I can no longer do the job I lived to do, which was Police work. Add to that the fact that I suffer horrific pain everyday due to my back injury. I have crushed a total of 9 discs in my upper, middle and lower back and have to use a cane to walk.

Not only do I have permanent nerve damage, but as a result I lost function of my bladder and need to urinate with a catheter and a leg bag. I have had several surgeries to include a two level cervical fusion, an interstim implant for my bladder and a Morphine drug pump implant. Despite these surgeries, the Morphine pump and oral pain meds I am still in a great deal of pain all day and night; awake and sleeping. I still have a few more surgeries I must endure in the next year. This physical pain alone is one reason why I cut myself.

Since I don't have any control of the constant pain related to my back injury I at least have control over the pain I endure when I cut myself. I don't scratch myself...when I cut I cut deep and I have scars over 70% of my body. I often cut out of anger or frustration, because I lost my passion for life when I lost my career as a Police Officer. It's extremely difficult to go from being physically able to chase bad guys, make arrests and help others to someone who can barely walk and is in constant pain.

Over the past two years I have gone from a mentally confident and competent person to a mental basket case. Now I must say that prior to my career ending injury I suffered from PTSD and bouts of depression related to my Police experiences while employed by NYPD during 9-11 and survivor's guilt. Also, growing up I would from time to time cut myself. Oh yeah and when I was 13 years old I slit my wrist and OD on medication in an attempt to end my life. It was really tough covering up the huge ass scar on my wrist, especially while applying for work as a Police Officer. I don't regret the scar, I regret the fact that I lived. Looking back I guess there have been many times where I was in harms way and could of, should have died, but didn't. This happened more often of course during my Ten years of Police work. Looking back now I can honestly say that I wanted to be a Police Officer so I could die. Had you asked me while I was still working as a Police Officer I would have said it was so I could help people and save lives.

Anyways, I now suffer from a whole host of mental disorders, such as Major Depressive Disorder, BiPolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, PTSD and a couple of other disorders that escape me at this time. I'm taking a handful of medication daily in the hopes of controlling my mental and physical pain.

It's not working, I can't sleep and the urges to cut keep getting stronger. I also envision me cutting my own throat with a knife. I can be sitting on the couch watching a TV show and out of no where I see it...I see the knife in my hand held to my throat. I wonder, is this how I am supposed to die? I always hoped it would be via lead poison ( aka a bullet). No matter, I keep cutting and my wife sees the cuts and scars and naturally freaks out. I'm putting her through hell and that just adds to my anxiety and frustration that often boils over and results in even more cutting! I wish I could post pictures so you can see my scars and know that this is for real. I'm living a nightmare and I'm ashamed of myself for being so weak. Two years ago I was a decent role model for other Officers and the community I lived to protect and serve. Now...now I am suicidal and spend most of my time at home, in pain and alone.

The urges are becoming too great and I'm fast losing any control. My cuts are becoming deeper and deeper. How can I cut out the ugly side of me when...

[ Continued ]

Recently I was at a party where many people were intoxicated, myself included. There was a lot of dancing and girls grinding on guys and groping and whatever else happens on a dance floor probably happened here. While at this party I talked to a lot of people and remember every detail I just didn't have the proper control of myself as I was heavily intoxicated. Nearing the end of the night I was approached by a boy who somehow knew me although I wasn't sure who he was. I walked away but he was insistent to talk. He pulled me closer to him and kissed me. We made out and everything was fine. Now, at this party people were staying in tents or their cars on the property and I had a tent with my friend. This guy that I was with asked me if I had a tent and I said yes, he took that as an invite and said "that beats sleeping on the floor". I wasn't 100% comfortable with him coming back with me but, I am the type that has a hard time saying no when someone says they'll be sleeping outside or whatever else. So he followed me back to my tent and I warned my friend before he came in. I was quite tired as it was very late and I was ready to go to bed but this guy was grabbing me and kissing my neck and wouldn't stop. I would push his hands away and he would tell me to "stop" or "just let it happen". Although, I continued to ask him to stop he continued until i sat up and said he needed to stop. At that point he got angry and told me that I was being a tease and i needed to "get him off" before he could go to bed. I said I just wanted to sleep and was feeling quite emotional, he was about to leave when i started to cry, as I was just yelled at when I didn't want to have sex with him. He told me it was fine and we would just cuddle and sleep. When we were back under my blanket he started at it again and i continued to tell him to stop as i still wasn't wanting to have sex with him and he started getting angry again. He was kissing me and had his hand wrapped around my neck. I was afraid of his anger as i didn't know him nor what he was capable of and i didn't want him to wake people so i complied and told him that we could have sex. About half way through i started crying and he told me if i was loud he would choke me harder so i sat there and let him do what he wanted.

I complied and told him it was okay for him to do what he did although the multiple times i said no and i felt pressured into this situation. It continues to haunt my dreams and I don't feel like myself anymore. But, was it rape...

I am Rose, an alter of Anna. She is 15, I am 16. I am always with her, watching, observing what happens. I control her memories and what she remembers. I know all of her memories from the very beginning, and I can, at times, come out to act as a co-Host. I know everything she's gone through , and I act as a leader between all of the alters. I can, at times, control who it is that comes forward. I am their manager and leader. Rage is the hardest to control, because she can draw a line of destruction whenever and wherever she is. She is filled with bottled up anger and rage that was never dealt with all our life. Should I be scared? No, she's only trying to protect our system. I feel more afraid of Echo, because he's always crying and I'm scared that he'll one day give into the darkness.

Everyone thinks that they suffer alone from our schizophrenia, but we all suffer from it equally. Even Anna suffers from it, seeing and hearing people as if she were on acid. Rae is only angered and annoyed, but Brian, whom is the most affected by it, is made to feel even more afraid than he already is all the time. Brian is a moderately autistic 18 year old with the mind of a 5 year old. He enjoys wearing shorts and faded salmon shirts. He fears everyone and everything. He is the most affected because he is so young mentally and is suffering from autism.

Brian was made in the hospital, after being restrained for days. Rae was made after being in the inpatient psychiatric unit for a month. Rage was made from years of bottled up rage. Echo was made from an event Anna went through while she was only nine; thus, the reason that Echo is permanently nine. I was made, as a mute, mature girl, from years of being told not to speak about the horrors I've faced.

I am notoriously self absorbed, so the idea that others will be able to read what I right tickles me. It more than tickles me, it gratifies me. Right now I am struggling unsuccessfully with a gambling addiction. It goes against the public persona that I have created for me to struggle this way, so I was actually thinking of setting up an alter account for my alter ego on a main blog site. This will work just dandy. Now I get to be my own dirty doppelganger and still be on the downlow with what a #######5 person I am.