I have been wondering this for a while now. Ever since I was little, my Mom tried to fit in with her boy friend's life style. The guy could have been a raging alchoholic, who was a complete ass(most of them were) and she would stay with him, no matter what. Last year, I told my mom that my step brother had been sexually abusing me for a little over two years. When I told her, she at first seemed shocked and had called him in the room with my step dad. They kicked him out of the house for two days; during those two days, my mom didn't talk to me, yet alone speak to me. She began making me feel guilty for getting in trouble, and even tried bribing with my graduation dress for my 8th grade ceremony. I eventually gave in, and they moved him back in. I was forced to live with him for six months, until I ran away to my dad's house. The thing that I have had trouble coping with is how she could have just turned away from me. It hurts so much. I would have maybe understood if she was a dad, since they don't really go through the pregnancy and the pain mothers feel. I have just have had the hardest time grasping how my mom could have just left me like that. She told I could tell her anything. Why would she have done that? I'd like to assume she just has some mental illness that she had never told me about, but maybe she just didn't care what happened to me.

Until recently, I never viewed my introversion as much of problem. I was told at work that I "need to be more social". This really struck a cord with me because I never thought that as I began my adult life my introversion may limit my success . So I decided to start this blog and chronicle my journey of becoming 'more social'.

Why are you so quiet? He must me hiding something...

Now this is easier said than done of course. My whole life people have been telling me, 'you're so quiet', 'you should talk more' or my new favorite 'be more social'. It's gotten to the point where some people feel uncomfortable around me because I'm so quiet. What is it that makes them so uncomfortable? Is it that my behavior or lack there of, is so unusual they just can't stand it? Is it that I'm some psycho who's going to snap at any moment? Is it the natural human tendency to be afraid of someone who's not like you? Not my problem right? They should be more understanding. Well unfortunately in a world of extroverts it is my problem. As much as I would love to live in a world where everyone accepts each other the way they are, that's just not reality. It's an extroverts world and if I'm going to thrive and not just survive, I've got to get to work and figure something out. So I'm going to be more 'social'. I'm not sure what that will look like, but in the following months, if not years, I will try and look deeper into the complex relationship that introverts and extroverts have and attempt different strategies for becoming more 'social'.

Why is it that quiet people make others feel uncomfortable?

Please share your thoughts.

the root of all evil is not money. it is not greed, or any other “sin”. it is the perversion of perception. it is to separate “good” and “evil” to begin with. “light” and “dark”; “creation” and “destruction”; “feminine” and “masculine”: those who have been taught there is a line between the two, cannot understand either. it is a product of the imagination even to say that “1″ is separate from “zero”. physicists have done well to prove this, as they have followed their numbers into realms where all of their equations fall apart. into delusion, where they ought be sent. man cannot gain understanding by dividing his reality into smaller and smaller pieces. exactly the opposite, his field of view has been reduced. this story is told by the history of language itself. where once he had many symbols for the infinite and the large, he now has many symbols for the small and the finite. the zoroastrians, for example, had 101 names for “god”, all bearing a different meaning. the earliest symbols appealed to the holistic nature of man’s mind, which saw the giants of the cosmos. today’s symbols appeal to the fragmented nature of man’s mind, which is drawn to think of the “atoms” and “molecules” and the even smaller things. the children of today are made anxious just to think of the vastness of the void, because they can no longer fathom it.

Im really looking for help, just insight from people who have been through this tough and stressful road... (Cant afford, to see a therapist at the moment, insurance doesn't cover lol)
21, young..
I love people... I would give my last dollar to someone who says they need it.
Have trouble keeping a job, but getting one is easy as cake, I just get bored real quick..

Now that we've been introduced,

For a few years now I've been struggling with panic attacks and high stress...at first it was just that id get dizzy and start panicking, and my heart would feel like I was just lifting a fridge. ha

But as the years progressed I started looking up things like schizophrenia, and ADD and OCD, and for about a year and a half now my obsession with being scizo has consumed me... what sucks is that I developed a mean phobia of people doing things to my food.. I was afraid someone had done something to things prepared for me if it be in a dinner or already packaged food.. I would come home and think, what if someone broke in and tampered with the food my mom made.. Or if the delivery guy was late, did he do something to the food... I stopped eating mushrooms (because of the fear that I may eat a magic shroom lol ) I lost alot of weight because of this...lol Which would bring me to the conclusion ( and i know self diagnosing myself is bad) but that i may be scizo...

Well I started attacking my fears head on, and began eating again, anything, and everything... Things got better.. and worse. I still get the occasional panic attack but my mind is now consumed by other thoughts regarding me being scizo for other reasons now...

My mind is stuck on the what if idea that one day I snap and kill someone, or hurt someone i love.. My attention has been targeted to one person, (for a small period of time) then sometimes just anyone.. i started to push myself away from sharp objects and such.. STOPPED that early. ( i knew that once i went down that road id be screwed with more weight to carry.)

I also read that if you loose emotion towards these ideas, and instead of fearing them you become excited, or question what if you might just enjoy murder, that you may be deranged. So I (being the hypochondriac that I am) started to question this as well.. I get these weird and obsessive thoughts but now I try to laugh bout it and keep moving but i cant tell if im just getting better or tricking myself and just getting worse....

I also adopt symptoms as i read them, like i read that someone with scizo will have difficulty speaking or writing, or doing certain things, or they may hear noises or see things, so I began finding myself watching myself, (and almost forcibly) started having difficulty with speaking, or seeing things out the corners of my eyes, or hearing things around my house... I feel great when i write or talk about it, i just want to know if anyone is on the same boat as me. Am i crazy, is this normal OCD, or am I wierder than i think lol. I can get a job, I have no difficulty getting woman, Im kind of a metro sexual so i take a little to much care of myself, I like to talk, i can get along with anyone..Im just so lost rite about now, I want out of this fear, and what feels like limbo!!!

What scares me the most out of all of this is that i know how to write well, and speak well, maybe my grammar is horrific on this little yahoo answers piece, but when i really want to throw down i can... And thats what scares me, am i sane, and just obsessing over being crazy or just crazy pretending to sane...?

please leave a line, much love
Richie

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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