Is it abonormal that whenever I gain interest in a certain show or game that all of a sudden I drop literally all my other interests and focus mainly on one character in that series/game. It gets so bad that I'll actually imagine myself being in a relationship with them and also adopt most of not all of their traits and pretend I've always acted like that when in reality I was different before hand. But then again that could've been another character. I've been doing this for near 10 years so I don't even know who I am anymore. It's frustrating and I'm honestly concerned as it's nearly ended friendships in the past. In order to stop it, I've tryed asking myself am I doing this as me or as the character. This has proved unsuccessful as it just makes me paranoid that I'm being a character when I do something the same way I'd imagine the character doing something. It could be the most mundane task ever and I'll still be paranoid that I'm not me but someone else.

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...

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I am notoriously self absorbed, so the idea that others will be able to read what I right tickles me. It more than tickles me, it gratifies me. Right now I am struggling unsuccessfully with a gambling addiction. It goes against the public persona that I have created for me to struggle this way, so I was actually thinking of setting up an alter account for my alter ego on a main blog site. This will work just dandy. Now I get to be my own dirty doppelganger and still be on the downlow with what a #######5 person I am.

I was diagnosed with PTSD after a car accident in 2010 (age 25), and was shocked when repressed memories from the past started surfacing without warning. Along with the scenes from the car accident replaying without end, images of an abusive relationship I had been in for three years started playing, a sexual assault by a boyfriend at 19 that I blocked out, a rape I had experienced at age 18 that I COMPLETELY blocked out, emotional and mental abuse from age 11 at the hand of a boyfriend of my mother's, and various bullying events I had sustained from around age 8 through 14. It was entirely overwhelming; for about two months after the accident I spent most of every day in bed, having nightmares when sleeping, waking up screaming thinking whatever I was dreaming about was happening, then having no perception of time when I was awake, being continually trapped in recurring flashbacks that seemed to last for hours when they were really just 10-15 minutes. I sustained serious lumbar spine and nerve injuries that required heavy medication (50mcg fentanyl patches every 3 days, 200mg neurontin daily for nerve pain, 10mg klonopin for panic attacks, 30-50mg oxycodone daily for breakthrough pain, 100-200 mg orphenadrine daily for muscle spasm and opiate potentiation). I could barely muster the energy to get out of bed to go to the bathroom and shower because of the pain, so I stopped eating, lost nearly 25 pounds within a few weeks (I am a 5'5" female and was an active and relatively muscle-toned 130 lbs., so I became underweight and lost a majority of my muscle tone), so coworkers I ran into once when I had to go to my office to sign some insurance paperwork started rumors I was abusing drugs due to my frail and noticeably gaunt appearance. I withdrew almost entirely from my social circle with the exception of a few friends who were so worried abouy my sudden changes they forced me to keep in contact with them. After nearly two full years of weekly psychotherapy, many hurdles, setbacks, tears, angry and violent outbursts, losing my job, and weaning off all the pain medication, I finally got my PTSD symptoms under control in 2012. During this time I was also pursuing my undergraduate degree in psychology, which obviously delayed my studies as I dealt with my illness and injuries. Since then, I have had a very exaggerated startle response that never went away (loud noises or someone approaching me from behind seriously frightens me, causing an immediate panic response). I've had difficulty with controlling or moderating anger, and sometimes respond angrily way out of proportion to the irritant or situation. Social anxiety that I always had got somewhat worse, and depression has been a nearly constant battle also. However, I was able to find a new, better job, and maintain my GPA at 3.85.

Things were going relatively smoothly until this October, where I suddenly experienced a PTSD retriggering event. I did not consciously recognize or want to acknowledge it at first, instead convincing myself that the eerily familiar feelings were just imaginations and nothing serious, until it suddenly dawned on me one day what was happening, about three weeks after the initial retrigger. I began addressing it with my psychologist and the psychiatrist I started seeing right before the retrigger for my depression that was getting out of control in the summer. It just caught me so off guard and has made me feel so powerless again. I keep thinking that no matter how far I get in time from these events, no matter how well I do, these horrible feelings are going to arise at any time and ruin my happiness. I feel that I never truly have felt happiness, and that now I may never know what it is like. It's caused me such horrible thoughts, the suicidal thoughts, the thoughts of giving up on everything, the thoughts of withdrawing into myself, the paranoia that everyone can see through me and thinks I'm pathetic and weak for not being able to just get over it....

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I'm a teen and I have an Anxiety and Depression disorder, I'm not positive but I may also have mild OCD. I'm really new too this website and forums so sorry if I do this wrong . I have so much running through my mind right now that it's really hard to decide what to say, so sorry again if what I say doesn't make sense. My parents have always been the over-protective type, both of their childhoods sucked and apparently they were both bullied tons. Unlike them, I was never bullied at school or anything like that I quite liked it, but I hate it at home. My parents like to start a fight over basically everything, either if it's with me or with each other, but either way, it always ends up my fault. I have a younger sister too, she's currently the age of 10 and I'm pretty sure she stopped aging at 6. I mean she's always had it easy, and her attitude towards me has never changed. I was never allowed to watch TV other then Family channel or Disney until late Grade 6, but she started as soon as I did... Meaning she was only in grade 2. Meaning, my mum thinks that everything I can do or/have she can do or/have. Moving on, my mom always treats me like I am her when she was my age. She decided I was a Tom-boy, that I don't like "girly things" like clothes, make-up, dating, going to the mall, going to the spa or looking good. And she really had be convinced that I was that person for a while, but once I was a little older (around 10, but not the dating part tbh none of my friends have even dated before.) I noticed that all my friends liked those things now too. I was getting older, and I wanted to act more like my gender. That's normal isn't it? Well, after all my friends changed more "girly" then they were before, I thought I should too and not just because they were but because I felt like I wasn't being who I really was. But to be completely honest, I was scared to change. Strangers looked at me and saw the fun-crazy-weird kid, the one that didn't want to grow up. And apparently my parents thought that too, so when I did start looking at different clothing at the stores when me and my mom went shopping she would say things like; "Oh no, that's nothing like you." or "Don't you think thats a bit too fancy?". When really all I would be showing was casual clothes, clothes that my close friends wore. My anxiety would kick in and I would just shut-up, agreeing to whatever she bought me. What really confuses me about this is that she always complains about the terrible clothing her mom bought her when she was a kid/teenager, and I thought that would make her want to treat me better? But I'm a teen now and guess what, you will still only find pairs of jeans and leggings in my closet with basic tees and you will only find a pair of runners and a pair of gumboots on the shoe rack that belong too me. It's not fair that I'm not allowed to grow up, I'm not allowed to be a girl, that I have been stuck in the same hole for my whole life and it's only getting bigger. All my friends wear mascara, a bit of eyeliner, eye shadow, lipstick, and all that crap, but I can only wear concealer and a bit of foundation (whatever the difference is) to hide my acne. Note: My friends are good friends, my parents have no problems with them and I have known them my whole life. Even though I'm currently only talking about 2 of them, because technically the rest left me for some unknown reason. But I do have other friends, although they are all online . Onto another subject now, remember it may not seem like much so far but thats because it's all the little things that build up inside of me. My parents like to fight with me or each other ALL THE TIME, it's really bad. When its just the two of them fighting, and it's...

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