so i have d.i.d. (dissociative identity disorder) and one of my alters is named benji. benji is an 8 year old boy in the body of a 18 year old biologically female. i have no issues regarding my gender or sex and feel i was born in the right body. benji has such bad dysphoria that he hates coming out, refuses to look at himself in the mirror, refuses to take pictures, and everyone can feel how much sad it makes him. last night was the final straw though when my mom wanted to take pictures and he was co-fronting with me he started to cry because he asked her why she needed to take them. my mom dismissed his feelings and i just want to help him. anyone have something similar to this or have any ideas on how to help? i am so lost right now...

Hello. I have been diagnosed with anxiety for a few years now. I am a sixteen year old girl, and I often struggle with intrusive thoughts. My latest anxiety has been sexual thoughts, and feeling guilty about everything. For example, my mom was doing something (I don't even remember what) and was sitting down and was in her underwear, though i couldn't tell if she was naked or not. I looked over at her for whatever reason and just kind of instinctively looked down at her crotch area (I have no idea why I do that when I accidentally see someone naked, even a family member) and afterwards, I felt like I looked too long or it was creepy of me. I have no attraction to my mother or anything. But my anxiety has been making me worry about it all day. I even kind of forced myself to glance at hers and other people's butts to prove to myself that it wasn't weird and they're just body parts, etc. But this kind of thing happens to me constantly, especially when I'm tired. I also always feel guilty and like I'm hurting my boyfriend for having these thoughts and doing these things. Is it weird that I glanced at my mom like that? I'm sorry if this is a strange question, but I appreciate your answers. Peace and love.

So this is my first ever post out into the deep dark internet, but there's an issue I'm my life and my relationship that I honestly don't feel I can talk to about with anyone, like not him.. none of my friends.. so here I am turning to complete strangers.

So me and my boyfriend have been together 6 months now, we met on tinder and we hit it off like a house on fire straight away! He is one of the best people I have ever met, I'm super attracted to him and he actually wants to spend all his time with me which is more than I can say for any of my exes and we have had a great relationship thus far, except for one thing... So I have felt increasingly upset about this as time has gone on, like when we first got together we were exploring each other emotionally and also sexually, and with him being 9 years older than myself, he had a lot more sexual experience than me and he has introduced me to some new areas such an anal and general bum play which I have loved! So the first bit of our relationship, sexually this has been amazing.. but over the last couple of months he has become more tired and less interested in having sex with me, he has never been one to kiss me lots but again in the last couple of months this has diminished into giving me a peck in the morning before he goes to work.. and unless we are actually having sex, I don't get kisses off him.. he doesn't ever just snog me, and this hurts. Whenever I talk to him about it I just get 'I'm not a lovey dovey kind of person' or 'I'm not a snoggy type of person' which is ok, well its not ok.. because from where I'm standing I literally just crave so much more! Since loosing 6-7 stone over the past year I feel my sex drive has sky rocketed and I find myself wanting sex all the time, whenever I'm with him I just want to ###$ him and him do bad things to me, and when I'm alone.. I touch myself. When I'm alone and when I'm not busy I am constantly masturbating, I make myself cum sometimes 3-4 times a day when I have that chance. And so when I'm with this man who makes me so happy and who I am sexually attracted to immensely, I just want him.. and I feel that he doesn't want me as hard as I want him. When we get into bed and he makes his excuses, bats my hand away from him and tells me he's tired, I cant help but feel gutted.. I feel deflated, it kills me inside and I have to pretend like its okay and roll over and go to sleep when in fact I'm so hurt. Now, please understand when I say we do have quite regular sex, sometimes we can go a few times in a day, but on average I would say about 4 times a week.. sometimes a lot more? Now, this is where I think I have a slight addiction.. because it doesn't seem to be enough, I want to feel that intimacy so much more, maybe its because I don't get the little kisses throughout the day or even that passionate snog in the car before we go for dinner.. He is not the romantic type and unfortunately this massively shows, he never tells me I'm beautiful or says romantic things to me, or does anything romantic, and well 6 months in and he hasn't told me he loves me. I understand people go at different paces but due to this, I'm left wanting more.. and I'm having wondering thoughts, I'm lusting after anyone at the moment and I hate myself because actually the one person I want the absolute most is my boyfriend. I have tried talking to him, and I just don't seem to get anywhere.. He doesn't have much to say and just comes back with the normal 'I'm just not the romantic type' and 'I'm just so tired from work'. I feel like he isn't fully into me? Only apart from the fact he actually wants to see me all the time and literally does anything for me, he looks after me and makes me feel safe, and happy.. But where is my romance? I am a woman, with an incredibly high sex drive who just wants my man to have sex with me all the time and tell me I'm ######6 beautiful!

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.

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 ]