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Who or what am I? by caramellacrisby on Wed Jan 23, 2013 2:15 pm
I have been confused all my life.. like several others... But recently.. I just can not take it any more...
Well.. Most of the time its just- who am I, WHY AM i, WHere AM I... Whats going on..?? What is this place.. this world..?? I must be a human being by this wolrds semiotic system.. i have two hands, head, eyes, etc.. what all other creatures considered as humans have... and there is such life around us.. what we live.. with rules... with manners... how things are supposed to be... well.. it doesnt make much sense to me... i am able to follow this worlds orders on my better moments.. but sometimes im just like- why, wtf?? Why should i..
Sometimes again I live normal life.. according to this world... I can pretend like normal human being.. i can even forget for some time... my confusion.. but it comes back...
I have had moments of horror... When I am afraid of everything.. I can sit in a corner of a room, my back against a wall... or go under blanket.. hide there... from the world... to calm down...
Then I have moments of emptyness... when i think.. that not even moving my hand.. inhaling.. its not worth it.. as there is no point... whats the point to eat, to walk.. to put one lef in front of another.. to move on.. what for? why to buy a new computer, why to go to work.. why to study? why to function in this world...
im not sad... i dont care... i dont know... i dont see the point...
i do care about others suffering.. i care about sad and heartbroken or lonely people, sick people in pain, hungry animals.. etc... but what can i do for them? nothing.. i cant help myself...
i have started to avoid people and social events.. its not that i can not enjoy them.. i dont know how to even behave there... they dance and drink and talk.. but im thinking- whats the point?
I can still enjoy some emotional movies or books.. they get me off my confusion.. but real life.. not any more..
i used to have some good friends and we had fun.. we were traveling and doing things together...
now i want to be alone.. hide from worls and people...
i used to feel like in Robbie Williams song-
I dont wanna die, but I aint keen on living either...
but now Im feeling...
I dont want to live this world and this life, but Im afraid of death too...

So, I dont really know what to do... I can not die, I can not live.. Im just a empty soul... somewhere... somehow...

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My Best Friends Step dad harasses me and him by 339737 on Sat Nov 14, 2015 2:58 am
This all started about a year and a half ago. I was spending the night at my best friends house for the first time and i got a little warm so i was changing into a tank top and while i had my shirt off his step dad came into the room. i saw him give me a strange glare and walk away. i hadn't thought anything of it for about seven months. Then after noticing that we weren't hanging at his house at all anymore i started wondering. so one day after school i went over to his house. his mom let me in and we talked until he got home. Throughout the this whole time his step dad has blocked my number on their home phone, tried convincing the homeowners community not to allow me to walk on his street, he's banned me from his property, and his son can no longer come over to my house at all anymore. Ive overheard his dad call me a few very unflattering names. and his mom has called my parents a complete waste of time. I'm wondering what options i have either to file a suit against him or how i can get him to understand what he has done over the years.

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I can haz a blog? by lbailey71 on Sat Sep 01, 2012 5:45 am
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.

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A little lost and confused, maybe used and abused by Have1veryniceday on Sat Dec 12, 2015 3:12 am
this is going to be my first post, i'm not really sure where to start this post so i'm going to jump right in, i have a been wondering lately whether i may suffer from borderline personality disorder, i have had this feeling for a long time that i am not quite right, i have this emptiness inside me, it feels like i am a camera stuck on live feed but no ones watching, i often feel like this regardless of whether i am content or unhappy.

onto how i feel, sometimes i lie awake at night reliving the past day, i feel ups, downs, and sometimes a cold icy rage. i have little control over my thoughts and feelings at these times, or anytime really. i can maintain at times, but only for seconds before i'm lost again. during the day when faced with interactions with people at work etc. i wear a mask that's all smile and charm, at times it feels more real than others. when like this i have little room for empathy or genuine care and affection, because one chink in my armour it could all come crumbling down. regardless of this, time, tiredness, stress and everyday interactions slowly erode it away. the harder i try to keep it on the worse the emotional comedown is. at home i can hide away in a book or hobby, at work i will feel like a zombie, just going through the motions, lost.

i have always known that i have a very adaptable personality, it became more clear with a friend recently pointed out to me, that i completely change, interaction to interaction, almost instantly, depending who is around, effectively becoming a different person. i think i choose the path of least resistance, the easiest and the safest. at times it feels like i am just mirror, lost in someone elses reflection. my lack of self has made me easy to be manipulated and used for the benefit of others at times sadly.

the people i allow myself to care about seem to effect me the most, i don't wear a mask with them, even if i wanted to i can't , this can result in myself becoming this mirror colored thing, for the most part i don't mind because we are happy, and i am more comfortable asserting myself, or the self i want to be,

i think this has been a pretty long post, i will leave it here. if there are any questions i will be happy to answer them. thankyou

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Ending Silence by maat888 on Sun Feb 17, 2013 7:40 am
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 ...

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