Hi!

Well I'm 24 years old, my scars are a decade old, literally. When I was younger, I grew up in a war called "home" and I suppressed my emotions, I always had a smile on, was always making others laugh, pretending pain was not reality. It was reality alright, I broke at the tender age of 14, but I never wanted to die. I had harmed myself in order to understand the feelings others would get from cutting, but I could never seem to find the pleasure through it, it hurt! I did this a few times until I said "enough is enough there must be another way!"-- And truthfully the only way was simply getting my life together, it all starts from within. I learned to deal with pain on my own, no help. I've been through a lot and have made plenty of mistakes, but I believe and KNOW my past does NOT define the strong woman I am today.

I've always wanted to serve my country, I've been a protector since a child, the fuel to the fire actually started at home protecting my mother and sister from my father, then I proceeded behind the doors of my homes, such as protecting ones from bullies. I want to enlist with the Air Force in a year, do a bit more college before hand, and I want to major in psychology. I'd love to help anyone in general, from my personal experiences I have helped many, and I will not stop being there for others, guiding them, showing them there is a way. I feel there's too many people that go into professions that give service onto others simply for the money, instead of doing it because it comes from the heart, because they genuinely care, and want to help.

I've seen positive and negative thoughts over my past and how it can disqualify me, I will still try my best and give it my all, but what is your thoughts on this? And even if I do get disqualified, I'm gonna continue my studies towards becoming a psychologist. I can still become one, right? It would be a shame to know all years I'd put into something I love I'd be denied from because of my past mistakes.

Thank you!

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...

Okay, I've been searching for help. I have a problem. Let me start from the beginning.
My eldest brother suffers from cerebral palsy, and my entire childhood- my mom did not stay with me (parents are not separated) and my dad isn't exactly the loving type.
I have been a liar (without meaning to) from my childhood, and I have been sexually abused when I was a child (it didn't feel like an abuse, though)
Growing up, my elder brother (another one) kept dominating me or comparing me with my cousin brother who stayed with us. My brother would even force me to do things I didn't want to. He literally used to twist my arms.
Slowly, I feigned love for him. It happened on it's own. I actually believed myself. I knew I found him irritating and unwanted but still I respected him.
The somewhere around highschool, I got into a relationship and got cheated on. Yes, it was my first love.
It hurt. I was in a boarding school, I felt alone but never cried. I tried to take my life for reasons I can't remember. That phase of my life is a blur.
I thought everything would be okay.
It didn't.
My dad took me to a therapist, but my mom felt I was possessed by a spirit.
I'm 16 now, but I still haven't rebelled or gone against my parents.
Anyway, I never met the therapist again but I had to take part in rituals and what not.
Back to my brother, he manipulated me and made me look bad in front of my parents.
Being the weak, submissive sister I was, my parents never thought it was my fault.
Moving forward, he even made me lift up my shirt because he wanted to see my body type. I was obsessed with losing weight, I was dumb, I did it.
Now he would hug me weirdly and said I never hugged him properly. It sounds funny but he said my butt was too outwards, it should be inwards towards the person I was hugging.
Now, back to my elder brother, I know that he is suffering. But he does so many things to get attention. Shouts, screams, cries all day long. I'm suspecting that he even feigns illness. It isn't that we don't love him, we do. We do everything he asks, but still...
My father has never been affectionate. But he has always been there for me. We're good friends.
My mom, I don't know. She always makes me feel that marrying dad was a mistake. We're good friends, but... I feel trapped. Everything I do has to be under her.
I can't do anything on my own.
I feel suffocated.
So, around five months ago, my elder brother died. He was an alcoholic. He hit me, we fought. I never spoke to him again. I guess, I never will. I hadn't seen his face for a week or so, and when I did... I knew it was lifeless but it didn't look that way. I can't accept what happened. I'm angry that I couldn't be angry at him anymore. I don't know.
Now, I'm rude to people. My teachers say that I have lost that shine. My writing suddenly improved. I can laugh but still I feel different. None of my friends talk to me. I only have online friends.
I feel so alone.
Sadly, I think I like it that way.

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?

I've been looking everywhere online for advice, and everyone I talk to says I should go to some sort of psychotherapy. I don't know about it, though.. I finally had the courage to tell my sister what's been going on - I've been hallucinating, I can't sleep too well (3 hours a night is my current average), I get very nauseated whenever I eat so I've lost a significant amount of weight. There's headaches, dizziness, fear (of nothing, really), anxiety, trembling, it's hard to breathe sometimes, too. I had a panic attack about two weeks ago, it lasted for maybe fifteen minutes. My dad says he used to have panic attacks, and I read somewhere that it's more likely for me if it runs in the family. I can't stand being alone because these hallucinations get worse when I am. I'm also being cold(-hearted) lately towards my mom and sister. I feel very anxious -at night especially- and self harm calms me down. I started scratching my wrists and digging my nails into them. I don't want to do this, but it's become very addicting and even soothing. My sister wants me to see a psychiatrist, and put me on anti- depressants. What should I do about this? Please help.