So, my step brother took the plea. What now? What happens next? I have been preparing for the worst, and now I'm suppose to be happy? I don't understand.

Rightio, guys! Welcome to my world! It's great in here, albeit the landscapes may appear a little cerebral and neurotic sometimes. I lead the fine young life of an Irish student. Yes, student life is... well, chaotic. Effective organisation is always precluded by the necessities of student life (i.e. sleeping erratic hours, inconsistently meeting inconsistent deadlines, and an all-round simultaneous lack of planning and spontaneity). I am doing what I love (that's binge-reading on metaphysics and critical theory and writing highfalutin essays on it all), and even if it doesn't make me happy, that's okay, because I'm doing the right thing with my life right now. Clarity helps.

Happiness (whatever it is) is a thoroughly overused term these days. Why on earth should I be happy just because I have everything and my life is pretty darn good?! 'Erm... perhaps because you have everything and your life is pretty darn good...?' This is called circular reasoning, a logical fallacy. In fact, the entire pursuit of happiness in itself is both illogical and pointless. For a fact, nothing makes me happy. Ought I be stricken now by an avalanche of guilt? Not really. It's okay to feel whatever you feel and it is absolutely ridiculous to feel what someone else (or society, in fact) tells you to feel, because that's even more absurd that not feeling good, when life's good. In fact, the pursuit of happiness makes people depressed, because it's cheating logic and breaking down the faculties we rely on to make clear distinctions between things!

I like my life. I don't like my depression. I live life with depression. I do not live a depressed life. When I am really depressed I am not living my life, but this has nothing to do with my life and everything to do with my depression. It is important when I am very depressed to never wish my depression to end, because this would mean ending my life. And I like my life. It is much more likable than my depression. It only makes sense to say, then, that I like my life more than I can ever dislike my depression, because depression requires life in order to exist and wishing my life to end because it will end my depression is completely absurd, because it denies the origin of depression, which is not life, but absurdity. Yes, depression is absurd, but life is not and in order to affirm what is true and meaningful (i.e. the fact that depression is absurd) we must affirm life.

Of course, it may appear to be problematic when philosophers say that life is absurd and melancholia is a natural reaction to the absurdity of life. This may be true (and if it is it becomes difficult to distinguish depression from life), but even these philosophers find a way of affirming life, even if only in spite. For Camus, absurdity must be affirmed because our lucidity is the basis of all that we have. According to him, we must continue to push the boulder up the hill knowing it will fall back down, because acknowledging the pointlessness of this task liberates us to accept it. For Kierkegaard, it is defiance: rejection of help or escape which gives us strength to be our own and endure. For Nietzsche, life, suffering and all the tragedy in the world must be relished in order to rise above the adversity of slavery and become masters of ourselves through strength and creativity.

I was diagnosed with AvPD and SAD and I was wondering if anyone has a horrible problem with eye contact and being touched?
I have never been able to make eye contact unless I absolutely felt like it was necessary so that I didn't seem rude.
I can't make eye contact with my dad no matter what and I can barely make eye contact with my mom.

I also have a hard time dealing with being touched. When someone accidentally touches me, I literally cringe. I then feel like I need to go wash whatever part they touched me. I can't be touched by my dad because it just feels horrible! If he touches me, I feel like I'm going to cry. I'm okay with my mom touching me SOMETIMES, but she doesn't want to touch me because she has issues of her own.
I just hate being touched so much. Hugs and hand shaking are horrifying for me.
I want to get over this, but at the same time I just really don't want to ever be touched.

I am a victim of sexual abuse. Most of my previous posts were usually pretty short and very vague about my situation. They were mainly used for ranting, so I didn't expect anyone to read them. Then, I began to realize from being on this website, that this would be a safe enviornment to talk about things. So, here it goes; I am a teen girl, who began getting sexually abused by my step brother in the seventh grade. It went on for two years, until I finally told my mom, which she refused to do any thing, because she didn't want to leave her boyfriend. I am now living with my Dad, and my mom and her boyfriend are now married. The last couple years have been a huge roller coaster of events, from my maternal grandmother dying, my Dad getting custody over me, my little sister getting beaten by my mom, and me finding the two things that I have eternally fallen in love with; Zachary and roller derby. I want my junior year to be the mark of my synapse. I know I still have a long way to go, and I will still have troubles ahead, but this time, I will fight.

I'm a 16 year old girl. I never bit anyone as a kid or anything like that. I have been diagnosed with OCD, Severe Clinical Depression, and a Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I am on medication for those things. But I have been having the urge to bite things lately. It doesn't matter what mood I'm in. I just randomly have the urge to bite things. I mostly bite myself; I could never bite another person. Yes, I have been self-harming for a little over 4 years, so maybe it's just another form of self-harm, but it's getting pretty bad. The bite marks last about a half hour. I've only broken through skin once. What is going on with me..why am I biting all of a sudden...