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.

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.

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?

Ok, so I've been up for about a half an hour since this "nightmare" that I had. I don't remember the beginning but, it was short, extremely vivid and has me a little shooken up.
Ok, so I was at my ex boyfriends house. His mom had this extremely amazing camera which she let me use to take some quick pictures of. So I proceed to the back door, snap a picture of the sky from the back porch. Then I end up towards the end of the back yard by the fence while holding the camera on an angle. I take a picture of the backyard and the back of his house and review the picture. There, I see a little girl, in a purple dress with curly long brown hair bending over picking a dandelion. I look away from the camera in awe checking to make sure I'm not seeing anything, but low and behold I am, I just captured a ghost on camera. She was freakishly see through but yet so bold. I then run around to the front of the house avoiding her area. I run in the house and show the picture to my ex boyfriend telling him "do you see anything wrong in this picture!?" He then says, no. Then I zoom in on her, and he says "wow that's insane" and calls his mom over. I then show her, and it begins to get darker and darker in the house while she just has a blank stare on her face. She runs upstairs disappearing saying, "someone turn some lights on in this house" meanwhile, I literally cannot breathe, I am literally having a panic attack in my dream as my ex boyfriend picks me up and holds me. I then awaken from this physically terrifying "dream" with my mouth open, and I'm stuck. Literally stuck for twenty minutes in a daze and I cannot move. After I actually come to my senses I'm scared, terrified and in a lot of pain. As of right now, about an hour after my dream, my legs hurt really bad. Like they got ran over or something. A very dull pain shooting from my hip down to my big toe. I have never EVER experienced a "dream" like this before, and if anyone has any insight, or opinion as to why I woke up in pain from this, it would be appreciated. I'm honestly still in shock from how vivid this little girl was. I'm too afraid to go back to bed and rest peacefully.

*Trigger* This is a long story but I will try to be as brief as possible. I am very new to forums and anything I say is without judgement of any form of disorder, as I am all to aware of the impact it has on all parties and how the sufferer is impacted. Please do not take any offence as I'm still trying to understand, accept and work with its far reaching concsecuences and would ask all posters to remain non-judgementa. Thank you.

My wife and I have been in a relationship for 16years, married for 4 and have 3 year old Daughter together.

Most of the revelations from the events of the past two months have made me realise that in hindsight my wonderful true love has suffered from more than the diagnosed general anxiety and depression that has been interwoven in our lives for all this time.

Two months ago my mother in-law lost her on/off 10 year battle with cancer. We were all left devastated, but my wife who has always been considered the most emotional member of the family showed little grief, despite being greatly consumed for the entire decade of this fight.

Two days after her passing, my wife had a memorial tattoo and immediately confessed she had fantasised over the artist and made sexual advances towards him. My wife has always despised adultery and we had talked openly about friends who had committed this most "despicable" of acts. My wife has also always been very timid around strangers, sexually unadventurous and incredibly attached to myself. I put this down to the trauma and suggested that some form of therapy for her grief, along with open discussion would help and that I would support her all the way.

The situation became worse on the day of her mothers funeral, as the following day she confessed she had been awake all night sending naked pictures of herself to men she had never met. She made in her own words " throw away " comments that she would be better off dead, how a massive hole was consuming her and how she was unable to love anyone or inflict her "issues" on me anymore.

Her family although unaware of the full facts all agreed she should see her GP immediately, who subsequently referred her directly to A&E. The Doctors fortunately could see the full picture and my wife's reluctance to open up, or even admit she had a problem. They talked to both her sister and I and after discussions at board level, generally agreed she suffered from a personality disorder and offered immediate therapy and support, this has sadly been refused and ignored by my wife.

During this period our daughter was also suffering from pneumonia and my wife was unable to fully cope with this and embarked on offering herself for NSA sex via the Internet, sleeping with 6 unknown men (at least) in a period of weeks, all of the encounters potentially dangerous given the unknown quantity of the individuals and the environments the acts were taking place.

My wife has always suffered from angry outbursts, issues of social acceptance, 'living in and blaming the past', fear of abandonment and an inabilty to focus on positive aspects of life. Its also important to teveak that she was beaten by her father as a child, along with her sister and mother and her fathers family also had a history of sexual abuse, although my wife claims she was never assaulted in this manner.

Whilst this has left me devastated and whilst an exact diagnosis is not possible without therapy and dialogue from my wife, I know the most caring and loving person I fell for all those years ago, now has some form of explanation as to why she feels like this, as do I for the roller coaster relationship we have experienced.

As a footnote, not only does my wife not accept their is a problem with her actions or health, she has also started drinking heavily and vilifies me to anybody that she is able to convince, normally those who have infrequent contact with her or myself and are unaware of the full picture . These individuals are now validating...

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