At the age of eleven, five years ago, I recall calling a voice in my head the narrator, because he would refer to my life in third person, always negatively, constantly talking, and arguing with me, To this day. As far back as I can remember I have had a want to become female, purely for physical reasons, however, this need was intermittent, usually I had the standardly accepted gender identity, I even imagine being a father- not a parent or mother, a father- and now at sixteen my gender identity feels as if it has split into two, transgendered and 'normal,' while I am now 'turned on' by material of transgendered nature at times, but usually am not. The narrator has also evolved, triggering bouts of sudden uncharacteristic anger, while I am usually calm and cheerful. I sometimes find that my face is curling into a look of anger or contempt, or that I have sudden images of badly hurting people who do something I dislike, that may have been an acceptable thing to do, but for whatever reason I just feel foreign satisfaction in imagining pain.

I began looking through myself, basically just trying to figure out what the hell is wrong, and the following are the results:

At the age of six I had a crush on a girl in my primary school class, she left that year, for other reasons. This is the most definite starting point I can place for my tgism. then, at eleven, I had my second crush, on another classmate, and she walked up to me and told me to stay away from her shortly after the two friends I told this secret to went and told everyone. My theory is that my subconscious took these rejections, and the stereotypical views on geeks and indians, and sculpted from them the idea that I was so repulsive that the only way I could ever have a girl in my life was to be a girl, and so that shard of my gender identity broke away, and from this information I called that shard Lust. Lust doesn't seem to be as conscious as the narrator (who is now named Anger), though she has on two occasions exclaimed on how 'hot' a guy was, though this may be because of nightly masturbation to the idea of being a girl, leading to lust already being expressed. Anger, however, is kept under lock and key, and so usually has a voice. There are other signs as well. I used to use electronic devices excessively, even when supposed to be sleeping, but I voluntarily stopped, and recently I've started feeling tired after 11am, as if I hadn't gotten the sleep that I obviously did. Occasionally, when writing, my hand forms a squiggle instead of a letter, and my handwriting has deteriorated, and today when trying to write while holding the pen loosely, I could only make squiggles.

There may be other voices, occasionally when playing a sport I become giddy, speaking without thinking, and really jumpy, and sometimes I hear a crowd, but that may be Anger messing with me.
There's a chance I am only imagining all of this, but I don't want to take that risk.
Help me please.

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'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,

Well for starters I wanted to say that I'm a Seventeen year old girl who has recently been diagnosed with GAD. I have always feared a lot, and would always obsess over a certain thing/thought. I never really thought much of it, but now that I look back, it all makes sense. When I was around Seven years old, my older brother had came home from school one day and told me about germs, he explains how they were all around us. I quickly became obsessed with the thought that I would catch all these germs and catch a deadly illness and die. Every time I touched anything or anyone touched my hand, I would run to the bathroom and wash my hands. I was washing my hands up to 15 times a day and I didn't want to touch anything at all... Well like I said, I never thought much about that.. Until recently during summer break I had nothing better to do, other than watch TV, and everything I saw had to do with murders and people going insane. Well I saw this episode on a Hispanic show about a lady who had some type of Multiple personality disorder, who ended up killing her boss. She took medication for her disorder, but that day she forgot to take it. She didn't realize she had killed her, until the memory of her kept haunting her. She would see her everywhere, and she would speak to her telling her "You did it, you killed me" much later she got the clue that she had committed that murder. Well I quickly became obsessed with the thought of me going insane or sleep walking and doing such thing. I actually started putting things against my door so if I did sleep walk, I wouldn't be able to get through. The thing is there hasn't been a time where I have slept walked. The thoughts used to be much worse, but I've been seeing a therapist since the moment I realized I had a problem, and I've been feeling much better. There's days where I feel completely fine and happy and then there's those other days where I completely panic and feel like my world is falling apart. I would much rather kill myself than to ever hurt anyone in anyway. The thought of doing such thing causes me so much emotional pain, because I know that I wouldn't hurt anyone. Sometimes I cant help but feel so hurt and upset with myself because of those thoughts, that I just want to end my life. I try to talk to the people who I love about this and try to explain it to them, but they don't really seem to understand. They say "Oh everyone has those types of thoughts, just get over it" although, everyone might have those types of thoughts, I cant seem to just "get over it". I basically want to know, is there hope for me? How many others can relate to the way I'm feeling?

I have always heard that when being accused of something (that you aren't and haven't done,) it's more than likely because your accuser is guilty of such. I'm certain this doesn't apply to every situation, but realistically, how often does this actually happen to you?

Based upon my husband's past experiences with a wife that cheated, drank, and drugged herself into a stupor, I understand his skepticism. I however, do not do anything at all similar, don't look similar, don't act or speak similarly. We are not the same. I am his second wife.

For the past year, it has turned into him yelling, screaming "shut your f***ing mouth" "listen to me when i speak to you" "you will respect me," and things of that nature. He tells me not to talk over him, not interrupt him, and then when I ask for a moment of his time, he cuts me off and uses his hands as a "stop" gesture to end what I have to say. In all honesty, I do not feel as though my husband respects me, or cares at all about the things I say. I am a very brutally honest and blunt, and some would say pessimistic person. I believe I just know better how to prepare for situations, and expect others to disappoint me, so I work things our in such a way that I do not get disappointed. I look at life with a very real sense of what can and cannot be accomplished in a given amount of time. I am very time-oriented.
My husband tells me that I assume to much. An example:
I tell him one thing in the A.M., he forgets by lunch 5 days in a row, and tells me that he forgot every evening. I tell him the same message on the 6th day, he gets bent out of shape because "I assumed he would forget and now I am nagging." I personally do not find that nagging or assuming. It is using deductive reasoning or taking what was learned from first-hand experiences, and applying it to the situation. This is something that happens every week.

He accuses me of being childish, immature, and needing to grow the f*** up.
I do not raise my voice at him. I am the mother of his child. I keep the house running. I am overseer of all of the financials. I went to college. I make more money than him. I have two college degrees. I am a female in a predominately male professional trade, decisive, direct, and dedicated. I have more real-world experience than he does. I am literal. To the point. Callous, if you will. I do not mince words. I say exactly what the situation calls for, and I use the correct vernacular for emotions and feelings. I had to grow up fast, and by whatever means necessary, while he grew up in the same house all his life, was the youngest of three children with a stay at home mother, and overly religious upbringing, had no responsibilities, and never been told no. I do not play games. He says I do. He is the one that plays games, blatantly ignoring repeated phone calls and going out of his way to make me feel inadequate.

Really, that's just two examples..but just this morning we had the biggest blow-up of our relationship because I asked for clarification on what he meant by a statement, and it turned into very seriously hurtful words and screaming.

Any advice, folks?