Hello, I'm a cutter...

Why do I cut? What turned me into a self hater who scars his body and often wants to die?

I'm a 44 year old man who has seen his world fall apart two years ago. I was seriously injured on the job to the point of full disability. I can no longer do the job I lived to do, which was Police work. Add to that the fact that I suffer horrific pain everyday due to my back injury. I have crushed a total of 9 discs in my upper, middle and lower back and have to use a cane to walk.

Not only do I have permanent nerve damage, but as a result I lost function of my bladder and need to urinate with a catheter and a leg bag. I have had several surgeries to include a two level cervical fusion, an interstim implant for my bladder and a Morphine drug pump implant. Despite these surgeries, the Morphine pump and oral pain meds I am still in a great deal of pain all day and night; awake and sleeping. I still have a few more surgeries I must endure in the next year. This physical pain alone is one reason why I cut myself.

Since I don't have any control of the constant pain related to my back injury I at least have control over the pain I endure when I cut myself. I don't scratch myself...when I cut I cut deep and I have scars over 70% of my body. I often cut out of anger or frustration, because I lost my passion for life when I lost my career as a Police Officer. It's extremely difficult to go from being physically able to chase bad guys, make arrests and help others to someone who can barely walk and is in constant pain.

Over the past two years I have gone from a mentally confident and competent person to a mental basket case. Now I must say that prior to my career ending injury I suffered from PTSD and bouts of depression related to my Police experiences while employed by NYPD during 9-11 and survivor's guilt. Also, growing up I would from time to time cut myself. Oh yeah and when I was 13 years old I slit my wrist and OD on medication in an attempt to end my life. It was really tough covering up the huge ass scar on my wrist, especially while applying for work as a Police Officer. I don't regret the scar, I regret the fact that I lived. Looking back I guess there have been many times where I was in harms way and could of, should have died, but didn't. This happened more often of course during my Ten years of Police work. Looking back now I can honestly say that I wanted to be a Police Officer so I could die. Had you asked me while I was still working as a Police Officer I would have said it was so I could help people and save lives.

Anyways, I now suffer from a whole host of mental disorders, such as Major Depressive Disorder, BiPolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, PTSD and a couple of other disorders that escape me at this time. I'm taking a handful of medication daily in the hopes of controlling my mental and physical pain.

It's not working, I can't sleep and the urges to cut keep getting stronger. I also envision me cutting my own throat with a knife. I can be sitting on the couch watching a TV show and out of no where I see it...I see the knife in my hand held to my throat. I wonder, is this how I am supposed to die? I always hoped it would be via lead poison ( aka a bullet). No matter, I keep cutting and my wife sees the cuts and scars and naturally freaks out. I'm putting her through hell and that just adds to my anxiety and frustration that often boils over and results in even more cutting! I wish I could post pictures so you can see my scars and know that this is for real. I'm living a nightmare and I'm ashamed of myself for being so weak. Two years ago I was a decent role model for other Officers and the community I lived to protect and serve. Now...now I am suicidal and spend most of my time at home, in pain and alone.

The urges are becoming too great and I'm fast losing any control. My cuts are becoming deeper and deeper. How can I cut out the ugly side of me when...

[ Continued ]

I m worried that I might be a sociopath/psychopath. The main reason why I think this is because I was very mean to animals when I was kid. I don t know why I was, but I have been reading up on signs of sociopathy/psyhcopathy in children and this is one of the biggest signs. I never got in serious trouble as a kid like in school or anything. I never really had friends, I always stick to myself and would just swing by myself at recess. I started wanting to make friends in junior high though and wanting to fit in more. I just need help because I don t want to be a sociopath/psychopath. The idea of me being one makes me want to cry. I want to be normal person. However, I start to doubt myself and my emotions. Like, "do I really feel this emotion or am I just making myself feel this to try to make myself think I m not a sociopath?" I literally doubt every emotion I feel and every mistake I ve ever made, I connect it to me being a sociopath. Like I said, the main reason I think I am one is because I was cruel to animals as a child and this is a sign. I know I need to talk to a healthcare professional, but don t know if I can handle the truth. I m worried I ll get diagnosed a sociopath, I don t know if I can live with that. I just don t why I was the way I was as a child, that s what scares me. Any thoughts are appreciated.

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.

Hi there!
20 year old girl looking for some guidance.
I have a history of mental health issues but have never been diagnosed with anything. My dad has Tourettes with ocd and my sister has anxiety disorder. We all take prozac for our anxieties though im not diagnosed. I have tendencies toward ocd, Aspergers, anxiety, and eating disorders but do not fit a particular box. Im going to list my obscure quirks based on which issue I think they fit and hopefully someone can help me if they relate or understand!

OCD Tendencies:
I have an intense fear of germs, but only human germs. Im fine with the ocean, dirt, or sand etc as long as I can wash my hands after but I can't touch doorknobs, money, etc without washing my hands IMMEDIATELY. The strange thing is I don't obsess over what these germs will do to me, like I don't think ill get sick or die or anything, I can just "feel" the germ on my hand or body and it drives me crazy until I wash it off. If I touch something really dirty, I have to wash my hands 3 times for the dirty feeling to go away.

When i was about 5 my ocd tendencies started to come out and it manifested in me being afraid of germs and dead things. Dead things WERE dirty to me. I stopped eating meat. I put my favorite toys on a high shelf and refused to play with them because I didnt want to get them dirty. I washed my hands until they’d bleed and i had to wear socks on them. Since spiders killed things, they became the dirtiest thing in the world to me. If a spider touched something, I couldnt touch that thing unless it was washed. My parents got me a “cleaning spray” (which i now suspect was just water) to spray things so i could touch them again. When I was six, a butterfly died in our hallway and got covered in ants. I had to leap over that spot in the hallway because I couldn’t touch it, and I did that until we moved out of that house 2 years later. I had meltdown after meltdown because I found out the seats in my car were made of leather.

I still can’t touch anything if a spider has walked on it. I live in the forest, so they are always in my home. I wear shoes and socks in the house because I can’t touch the floor. If something falls on the ground I either throw it away or have to pick it up with gloves and wash it. I know this is irrational and there is no fear driving it, but if I touch any place a spider has been or if a spider touches me i have to scrub and scrub my body… this is very exhausting.

Because of this I get overwhelmed by small tasks. My dad used to always get mad at me because I would leave the fridge door open when Id take something out of it, until I finally explained that I have to use my shirt to open the door and its very difficult because sometimes I accidentally touch the door and have to wash my hands again...etc. If i drop something on the floor in my house now I usually leave it there because otherwise I’d have to get gloves, pick it up, wash it, then wash my hands.. Etc.

Un-identified Tendencies:
I hate eye contact. It feels so unnatural to me, I usually avoid it unless I know its important (job interview, date, etc) and then I have to purposefully hold my gaze and focus on looking attentive. I often stop paying attention to what people are saying because I’m focusing so hard on looking like I’m paying attention (lol). I hate sitting across from people because eye contact, I always make my boyfriend sit next to me at restaurants.

I have trouble with personal space/boundaries. In lines I always get too close to people without realizing, my boyfriend has to pull me away/remind me to give people space.

If I get excited about something, I talk very very loudly without noticing. I always have to be reminded to stop yelling..

I am super clumsy and awkward. I am ALWAYS bumping into things/dropping things.. Especially in the morning.

My sister and boyfriend recently told me that people often think I am a bitch when they first meet me because of my humor. I have a super blunt/...

[ Continued ]

So 2 weeks have gone by already. The 12 induction days are now over, what a relief ! I can still remember how I was living this, how days went by so slowly, with those 2 ‘girls’, those 2 bi*ches ‘rendering ‘ my life hell. Today, while we were on our meth doctor’s rendez-vous or consultation, one of my ex-induction friends (i accept to employ the word ‘friend’ here, how kind of me!) was talking over to me and that conversation TOOK ME BACK TO THE DAYS! Yes, back to the 12 induction days when we were all together, ha! To cut this story short (since I’m not writing about this today, some other day maybe…), I’m just glad I made it out! I imagined two more days with these animals in that cacophonic jukebox, that cacophonic cage, and I would have hung myself out dry, shyiiit. Believe it or not, I even made a rope out of my blanket, ready to be used… “Anytime!” I mumbled, without even shedding a tear, not even afraid of dying, well it was just for a few minutes, since that feeling quickly got out of me.

So today, when I went over to my meth doctor on consultation, the latter asked me if all’s well, if I didn’t get any side effects from my methadone or if I encountered any craving during my first week out and if I’m happy with my current meth dose. Well I told him the truth, nothing but the plain truth: every morning, I would wake up with my yawnings and running nose well, not as much as the time when I was addicted to heroin like back in the days LOL, but I’m not supposed to get any of this, not even an inch of all this ! My body was not on top mode, which is true as compared to the days when I was on induction. Even if I didn’t sleep at that time, my bosy was not as torn as it is now; we had less physical activities, less thinking to do and most of all, no stress at all, no phone ringing, no email to check, no meeting, nothing! As on my current life situation, when all’s back on other than the heroin cravings gone, I would have to, for instance, assist my parents in cleaning their yards, yes yards with an ‘s’. The truth? Well, I prefer to stay at work premises rather than spend a day home when my parents are at home as well since there would always be somewhere to go, something to do, no rest at all. And the days where we have nothing to do (meaning no cleaning or house chores), well, we would spend the days at the beach swimming and running on the beach. And I’d be all cranked up the next day at work, body all messed up, cramps, etc…

So I told all this to my meth doc and the latter just thought that was gibberish, from what I could conclude. The first thing he would mention was that I didn’t do as much physical efforts in an office, forgetting the fact that office is a part of my life. He said he would raise my daily meth dose but the question remains, since he didn’t write anything in front of me, and that’s quite discouraging.

Because then, the devil would lurk around me and maybe at a later stage, push me back on the streets who knows?? I know very well that a higher meth dose (maybe a 5ml raise might do to start with) is not recommended. Is it not better to be on a relatively higher meth dose than to hit back the streets ?

Think about it !