I was doing pretty well for a while. My coping skill was eating(more of a mechanism) and it was helping me a lot. Now, I can't even stomach anything. The closer the trial is getting, the more my depression is hitting me. It feels like I can't distract anymore. I can't even look at anything with a razor any more. I feel so sick. Some one please help me.

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...

[ Continued ]

Hello everyone! Here is another post that I wonder if anyone can relate to?

Now I have recognized that I do have some good qualities as I began to understand and rebuild myself but I find that I have also exploited these qualities in the past, distant and and not so distant. At I times I have even justified my actions with these qualities for example talking myself out of returning a phone call from my mother, I'll tell myself that attending to my life changes are more important, I can't disrupt this noble and righteous work, then anger will justify the frustration of having to make these life changes then ill hold her responsible for my current emotional and mental struggles. Ill think she doesn't deserve to speak with me, she deserves to suffer like me, she should be punished. (I know very immature, Its as if bpd is one the more extreme symptoms of immaturity)

Or my sadness will justify my depression after acknowledging how sensitive I am. For an example I'll use avoiding my mothers call again, I'll think to myself that I deserve to be alone for all the stress and pain I have caused others, that there is so much growth that needs to transpire before I can effectively communicate with anyone. That I don't have anything worth saying, that I don't want to worry anyone with my issues and ineptitude. (Really I'm just removing a level of responsibility and accountability over my own actions that I believe I'm too exhausted for, too depressed to invest my energy in to)
This is where My Fear interjects sometimes, creating thoughts like I would just embarrass myself if I try to educate or inform my mother on my current condition because I don't really know myself like i once believed I did, I'll sound uninformed to her, like I'm not trying to change, or I'm not taking the growth that needs to transpire seriously enough. (The shame would be too much to bear apparently is what Im thinking here, once again I see myself hiding from a level of responsibility because of the fear of emotional shame, which is related to heightened level of emotional sensitivity leaving me fearful of many personal and social situations/confrontations)

Another thing I have become recently hip to is the projection of these insecurities on he world. What I believe people are thinking about me or fear that they may be thinking, really are just what i deep down think about myself. And it does not stop at people i project my demeanor on to all things, in my eyes the world has become as tumultuous as my soul, A place where joy does not exist only struggle and heartache. I believe by improving my perception of self my projection on to the world will also improve, my perception of the world will improve and i will see the beauty of life again.

Rightio, guys! Welcome to my world! It's great in here, albeit the landscapes may appear a little cerebral and neurotic sometimes. I lead the fine young life of an Irish student. Yes, student life is... well, chaotic. Effective organisation is always precluded by the necessities of student life (i.e. sleeping erratic hours, inconsistently meeting inconsistent deadlines, and an all-round simultaneous lack of planning and spontaneity). I am doing what I love (that's binge-reading on metaphysics and critical theory and writing highfalutin essays on it all), and even if it doesn't make me happy, that's okay, because I'm doing the right thing with my life right now. Clarity helps.

Happiness (whatever it is) is a thoroughly overused term these days. Why on earth should I be happy just because I have everything and my life is pretty darn good?! 'Erm... perhaps because you have everything and your life is pretty darn good...?' This is called circular reasoning, a logical fallacy. In fact, the entire pursuit of happiness in itself is both illogical and pointless. For a fact, nothing makes me happy. Ought I be stricken now by an avalanche of guilt? Not really. It's okay to feel whatever you feel and it is absolutely ridiculous to feel what someone else (or society, in fact) tells you to feel, because that's even more absurd that not feeling good, when life's good. In fact, the pursuit of happiness makes people depressed, because it's cheating logic and breaking down the faculties we rely on to make clear distinctions between things!

I like my life. I don't like my depression. I live life with depression. I do not live a depressed life. When I am really depressed I am not living my life, but this has nothing to do with my life and everything to do with my depression. It is important when I am very depressed to never wish my depression to end, because this would mean ending my life. And I like my life. It is much more likable than my depression. It only makes sense to say, then, that I like my life more than I can ever dislike my depression, because depression requires life in order to exist and wishing my life to end because it will end my depression is completely absurd, because it denies the origin of depression, which is not life, but absurdity. Yes, depression is absurd, but life is not and in order to affirm what is true and meaningful (i.e. the fact that depression is absurd) we must affirm life.

Of course, it may appear to be problematic when philosophers say that life is absurd and melancholia is a natural reaction to the absurdity of life. This may be true (and if it is it becomes difficult to distinguish depression from life), but even these philosophers find a way of affirming life, even if only in spite. For Camus, absurdity must be affirmed because our lucidity is the basis of all that we have. According to him, we must continue to push the boulder up the hill knowing it will fall back down, because acknowledging the pointlessness of this task liberates us to accept it. For Kierkegaard, it is defiance: rejection of help or escape which gives us strength to be our own and endure. For Nietzsche, life, suffering and all the tragedy in the world must be relished in order to rise above the adversity of slavery and become masters of ourselves through strength and creativity.

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.