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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so i have d.i.d. (dissociative identity disorder) and one of my alters is named benji. benji is an 8 year old boy in the body of a 18 year old biologically female. i have no issues regarding my gender or sex and feel i was born in the right body. benji has such bad dysphoria that he hates coming out, refuses to look at himself in the mirror, refuses to take pictures, and everyone can feel how much sad it makes him. last night was the final straw though when my mom wanted to take pictures and he was co-fronting with me he started to cry because he asked her why she needed to take them. my mom dismissed his feelings and i just want to help him. anyone have something similar to this or have any ideas on how to help? i am so lost right now...

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...

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So 2 weeks have gone by already. The 12 induction days are now over, what a relief ! I can still remember how I was living this, how days went by so slowly, with those 2 ‘girls’, those 2 bi*ches ‘rendering ‘ my life hell. Today, while we were on our meth doctor’s rendez-vous or consultation, one of my ex-induction friends (i accept to employ the word ‘friend’ here, how kind of me!) was talking over to me and that conversation TOOK ME BACK TO THE DAYS! Yes, back to the 12 induction days when we were all together, ha! To cut this story short (since I’m not writing about this today, some other day maybe…), I’m just glad I made it out! I imagined two more days with these animals in that cacophonic jukebox, that cacophonic cage, and I would have hung myself out dry, shyiiit. Believe it or not, I even made a rope out of my blanket, ready to be used… “Anytime!” I mumbled, without even shedding a tear, not even afraid of dying, well it was just for a few minutes, since that feeling quickly got out of me.

So today, when I went over to my meth doctor on consultation, the latter asked me if all’s well, if I didn’t get any side effects from my methadone or if I encountered any craving during my first week out and if I’m happy with my current meth dose. Well I told him the truth, nothing but the plain truth: every morning, I would wake up with my yawnings and running nose well, not as much as the time when I was addicted to heroin like back in the days LOL, but I’m not supposed to get any of this, not even an inch of all this ! My body was not on top mode, which is true as compared to the days when I was on induction. Even if I didn’t sleep at that time, my bosy was not as torn as it is now; we had less physical activities, less thinking to do and most of all, no stress at all, no phone ringing, no email to check, no meeting, nothing! As on my current life situation, when all’s back on other than the heroin cravings gone, I would have to, for instance, assist my parents in cleaning their yards, yes yards with an ‘s’. The truth? Well, I prefer to stay at work premises rather than spend a day home when my parents are at home as well since there would always be somewhere to go, something to do, no rest at all. And the days where we have nothing to do (meaning no cleaning or house chores), well, we would spend the days at the beach swimming and running on the beach. And I’d be all cranked up the next day at work, body all messed up, cramps, etc…

So I told all this to my meth doc and the latter just thought that was gibberish, from what I could conclude. The first thing he would mention was that I didn’t do as much physical efforts in an office, forgetting the fact that office is a part of my life. He said he would raise my daily meth dose but the question remains, since he didn’t write anything in front of me, and that’s quite discouraging.

Because then, the devil would lurk around me and maybe at a later stage, push me back on the streets who knows?? I know very well that a higher meth dose (maybe a 5ml raise might do to start with) is not recommended. Is it not better to be on a relatively higher meth dose than to hit back the streets ?

Think about it !

Ok, so I'm pretty sure there is something wrong with me. I have had this feeling toward my stepmother since I could remember. Like a desire. I know it's wrong, it's not right because she is married to my father and she is my stepmother. My father cheated on her and I just wanted to tell her so bad how I felt about her, and how much she deserved better but they got back together. My father married her without telling her he had a vasectomy. And all these years later she really wants a kid, I wish I could help her have a kid...
I am 21 years old, and I moved back into their house about a year ago because my roommate moved out of state and left the bills all on me. I go into their room sometimes when they go to work and I smell her freshly worn panties, and masturbate to them. I found a box of her toys(dildos) and I masturbated to them and licked them. I also found their sex tape and watched it so I could see what she looks like naked. Sometimes when my dad leaves to go to work, I hear her getting into the shower and I fantasize going in there and joining her, or going into the room and waiting on her to get out.
I have control enough to never do anything to crazy, but what should I do? Should I just get help, or tell her what I have done/ how I feel, or nothing? Please don't comment how sick I am, and how I need to find god.. I know I am sick, I just can't control myself sometimes.