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 ...

[ Continued ]

Angry, too, need the rules. If you would like to express their outrage, we must carefully choose the words and expressions that you are going to use it. Words can inflict a very strong emotional wound. Always remember that. And even in anger. Even if you are very angry, you should try to remain calm. Then you will be easier to formulate their claims. Do not focus on the process itself. Do not forget in the heat of anger, what you're angry, why are you angry, what goals you want to achieve, expressing their outrage.
You must also show that you are not satisfied with the personality of man, and his specific act or situation, in which he has put you. You should not insult the man. No need to remember all his faults, which are not relevant to the subject of your anger. Moreover, it is impossible to point to some external features of the man.
It is not advisable to show anger towards his boss. You do not reach the wrath of their goals. But you can lose a job.
If you are the boss, then you can afford to be angry at his negligent subordinates. But it is necessary to comply with all regulations. We must not go beyond appearances.
Anger can have different degrees. But the highest degree of your anger should be used very rarely.

Mood: Exhausted
Listening to: Blake Shelton - Sure be cool if you did


It is one of those nights where I cannot get my mind to shut up. I am so sleepy but alas it manages to escape me. Racing thoughts and the like, This is my first time online today and it is 4:45 am so I guess that would technically mean that I was not online at all yesterday. I have not been able to focus enough on one thing to read a book. That is very stressful as reading is an outlet for me, I have my youtube playlist playing on shuffle so I don't even have to make a decision about a song cause right now my mind won't let me even think on it enough. I thought coming on here and writing for a bit would make me feel better or at least give me something to do but even now it is difficult to focus enough not to stray the subject. I love music there is rarely a time in my life that music is not playing. I listen to just about every genre I can think of with the exception of polka. Lately when I try to go to sleep paranoia takes over, it seems like the moment I become "still" the $#%^ hits the fan so to speak. Paranoia,agitation, conversations in my head with more than one voice. WTF? I moved across the country and have yet to see a therapist or mental health professional for that matter. I have been off meds since roughly June. I sometimes feel like I am watching my life play in front of me like a movie without the option to react. I mean my body is reacting but I am not, what the hell is that about? The other night I went to bed around 3 am to try to sleep but the moment I stopped listening to music and reading articles online and settled down in my bed with the lights off it got ugly. First the paranoia set in, it was extreme. I felt like I was screaming inside my mind but no sounds escaped me. It seemed endless then a soft little crying voice was in my head like a thought but not my thought. Then the weirdest thing happened.... I got this mental image of a little girl crying holding a teddy bear curled up in a corner. I don't know how I knew but the little girls name is Sophia and she is 6. I have never seen this little girl before so how would I know her in my mind? Let me say this, My name is not Sophia and I have never personally met anyone by that name. After the image of the little girl left the "screaming" in my head started back up. I don't know.... I am lost and not sure what is going on. After that night I called and made an appointment with a dr in the new town I am in. I am nervous about going to a new dr, I do not trust easily and I don't know if I can open up to them.

i am 23 year old and doing a job as a designer.
now a days my feelings is very dirty and i start doing fantasy about dirty things.
i can't explain what should i do now ?

Quotes from an interview with psychoanalyst and writer, Adam Phillips:

"I'm not on the side of frustration exactly, so much as the idea that one has to be able to bear frustration in order for satisfaction to be realistic. I'm interested in how the culture of consumer capitalism depends on the idea that we can't bear frustration, so that every time we feel a bit restless or bored or irritable, we eat, say, or we shop.

"It's only in an initial state of privation that you can begin to have thoughts about what it is you might want, to really imagine or picture it. It's very difficult to know what we're frustrated by. In making the case for frustration I want to make it more interesting, such that people can talk or think about it in different ways."

For him, psychoanalysis is a set of stories that we tell ourselves and each other, a way of redescribing our experiences. "To begin with, one needs to understand," he says, "but I think the final project is to relieve oneself of the need for self-knowledge. It's not that it's useless – in some areas of life it's very useful – but there are lots of areas in which it isn't, and in some areas it's actually pre-emptive and defensive, and this is where psychoanalysis potentially fails people, by assuming there is an infinite project and that the best thing you can do in life is to know yourself. Well, I don't think that's true."

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jun/01/adam-phillips-life-in-writing


"I believe in what you see being most of what there is… and that life's passed on to us empty. So, while significance weighs heavy, that's the most it does. Hidden meaning is all but absent."
:: Richard Ford (from the novel 'Canada'.)