so im a teen, a girl, and i have overprotective parents, and by overprotective , i mean embarrassingly overprotective. my dad is more laid back and will let me do more things and go to more places, but my mum is the main issue. if i ask to go somewhere, i have to ask my mum. its like my dad has no input on my social life what so ever.

recently i have been talking to a boy that i like and we have been getting on well. he is really nice and i would love to get closer to him. but obviously my mum is getting in the way of that. she wont let me go to a boys house even if its for a couple of hours or for dinner and if a boy comes over she wont let us go upstairs which is pretty embarrassing. i dont want to have a sexual relationship with a boy at this age but my mum doesnt seem to trust me and its really bringing me down.

whenever i talk to a boy im scared to get close to them because i know my mum will mess things up. i feel like im not allowed to talk to a boy or to have a boyfriend. i mean, im a teen, obviously im going to be talking to boys or wanting to have a boyfriend but my mum gets in the way of everything.

its not even just with boys, its with everything! she only likes about 3 of my friends and she will let me stay at their houses but if its someone she hasnt met or doesnt like she wont let me. like my friend asked me to go to her nans birthday party on the weekend and stay at hers after, and my mum wont let me because she doesnt like her. she ruins everything! i know its cliche that im a teenage girl and saying she ruins my life but she really does. and its bringing me down completely.

she wont let me out after dark and i always have a curfew to get home. this boy im talking to doesnt go to my school, but hes the same age as me, so i can only see him on weekends and i cant even see him that long because it gets dark early in the winter and i cant see him after school either so i only ever see him like once a week. he asks me to meet up with him after school sometimes and i always have to come up with an excuse like every other time she says i cant go somewhere.

if i ask her to go somewhere or do something she either says 'no' straight away or she says 'i'll think about it' and most of the time its a no anyway. im a teenager, she needs to let me go places and experience new things so i can learn from my mistakes. keeping me locked up in the house all the time isnt going to make things any better, its just going to raise me into a liar and make me want to rebel against things. apparently overprotective parents can lead to social anxiety too. i dont know if i have it but im always sad when it comes to my mum and makes me feel depressed. i cry all the time about it and she doesnt care.

if i try to explain things like this to her she never listens or understands how i feel. i know shes overprotective because she wants to look out for me and everything but doing this is only going to make things worse. if she let me make mistakes and see right from wrong then i will understand. its not like im going to get raped or mugged if i go out after dark, im only going to be with my friends!

i just wish she would understand how i feel and give me a chance. she doesnt trust me and it makes me feel so upset that i dont get opportunities to do anything.

im the only friend with an overprotective parent and i feel left out and worthless when my friends talk about all the fun they had when they went out at the weekend or after school without me there because im the girl with the overprotective parent that no one wish they had.

dont get me wrong, i love my mum, but she doesnt realise how much this brings me down. and im getting sick of it. i might aswell have no friends or boyfriends or social life until im about 20.

please help me to find a solution to this.

thank you.

Everyone has a dream no matter how simple it is or impossible to achieve we do the best we can to achieve it in a good way of course. As a young girl my dream was to get married in church, have children, have a house, a steady income and so on and so forth. You know what I'm saying. My first husband was very dedicated and ambitious. He was an excellent provider and I always knew I could count on him. The demise of my first marriage was lacking the skill of understanding of a wife and being supportive. Although, we were blessed with 2 great sons I didn't give it my all. I was so confident in fact overly confident that since we had everything that I became so comfortable. After 15 years of marriage it ended due to lack of things in my part like communication and just being a wife. It was a devastating experience but, only when I stepped back did realize he was always reaching out to me but I was not emotionally available. Although, there was a different type of love it was more of respect I had for him. While the divorce was in process I dipped my toes in the dating scene to realize that boy oh boy it was so different way back then when men will come over to your house, court you, bring you presents and ask your parents permission. Now it became more of a meat market. For a few years I enjoyed it. After 3 years my divorce was finalized. But, the dating scene made me feel more empty that finding a man is quite difficult a good one I should say. With so many options, technology and how society views a relationship which was a hush hush before was just normal. Of course due to my religious belief I never stopped praying and hoping that someday I will be blessed with the right man more so a man of God. As I continue my search I was asked to meet a man by my room mate’s best friend who happens to be her best friend’s room mate. I was hesitant for I already have set my standards of what I wanted and who I wanted to be man of God, ethnicity wise, height, education, looks, financial status, morals, loyalty, fidelity and values you name it I had it written down. When I met this man he was 40 and the first thing he said he just got home at 5am for he was in the club with friends in their 20's. That, not to sound judgmental should be the first big red flag. He was grilling some meat and as soon as it was cooked he was serving everyone and making sure all the ladies were taken care of red flag number 2. As the afternoon dies and getting closer to the evening he wanted to talk to me more. We sat down he told me he is separated although his family is in San Diego him and his wife still share one house but separate bedroom because they have 2 daughters. Then we started praying together now that one was a big plus for me since most of the man I dated either doesn't believe in God or doesn't practice their religion at all. I really liked him. He sent me roses at work and we would talk on the phone for hours. From that day we were inseparable. Everything happened so quick we moved in together and got a place. After 4 months I noticed he placed some ads and searching on craigslist for fun. That should be red flag number 3. I never did confronted him until I found out on his face book which he posted our pictures that he has strings of women again red flag number 4. That same year he filed for divorce and the ink wasn't dry on his divorce papers he wanted us to get married before 2010 ended. I was happy don't get me wrong but quite confused as to what the rush was since our sponsors will be in Bahamas and won't be back until first week of January 2011 found out due to taxes that may have been red flag number 5 but I was aware about it but I still filed Married filing separate. The course of our marriage was very chaotic since his daughter moved in with us she still couldn't grasp the divorce that happened to her parents even if both have their own partners. For months I subjected my self with verbal abuse and demeaning things both my second husband and...

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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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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.

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.