Only read this post if you didn’t read my other one. This is a shorter version of it. Help me, please! I at least need some kind of comfort or advice, or someone to understand my problem! Ever since I was a baby, I’ve had these weird delusional obsessions. I only talked to myself in my imagination and never really had any contact with the outside world. I called it “non-exposure” and I never exposed anything. It always had to do with cartoons. Just cartoon characters- I was so obsessed with them, and they filled my brain for my entire life- I am not kidding. Every day, 24/7, I would try and picture them in my mind, either trying to picture these kids dressed up as their favorite ones, or just thinking about my favorite ones dating other characters. I was not only obsessed with them, but I was attracted to a lot of them as well. This went on from elementary school to middle school, to high school. I’m 16 years old in my junior year now. I couldn’t stop. It was the only thing that made me happy. I never told anyone about it because I never thought it would be a problem until now- I always thought of it as just a hobby that I liked to do. But now I know it was a waste of time. Now that I’m a junior, I’m supposed to be focusing on college and even more work. But because I lived inside my imagination for such a long time, I suffer consequences now. I’m not able to do the things I used to do. I can’t read, I can’t even focus on real life without zoning out. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t tell anybody- not my mom because she would be devastated, and not anyone else because they would just think I’m weird, and they would be upset, too. I can’t picture anything else in my mind besides these cartoons, and what I see on TV. I’ll never know what it’s like to be an actual person, living a normal human life. I can’t stare straight forward without zoning out, getting dizzy, or getting tired. I hate what I did to my life. I think school lessons are interesting, but they’re hard for me now! I try to focus on school but find it hard to do my work. I could have been a great person. But now I have no skills, and I can’t do anything. I don’t think I can function in this world. I don't think I'll be able to graduate high school, or function in college. I am not an attention whore, but I really want somebody to comment on this soon, because I am lonely and need at least some kind of company...

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.

Quotes from an interview with psychoanalyst and writer, Adam Phillips:

"I'm not on the side of frustration exactly, so much as the idea that one has to be able to bear frustration in order for satisfaction to be realistic. I'm interested in how the culture of consumer capitalism depends on the idea that we can't bear frustration, so that every time we feel a bit restless or bored or irritable, we eat, say, or we shop.

"It's only in an initial state of privation that you can begin to have thoughts about what it is you might want, to really imagine or picture it. It's very difficult to know what we're frustrated by. In making the case for frustration I want to make it more interesting, such that people can talk or think about it in different ways."

For him, psychoanalysis is a set of stories that we tell ourselves and each other, a way of redescribing our experiences. "To begin with, one needs to understand," he says, "but I think the final project is to relieve oneself of the need for self-knowledge. It's not that it's useless – in some areas of life it's very useful – but there are lots of areas in which it isn't, and in some areas it's actually pre-emptive and defensive, and this is where psychoanalysis potentially fails people, by assuming there is an infinite project and that the best thing you can do in life is to know yourself. Well, I don't think that's true."

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jun/01/adam-phillips-life-in-writing


"I believe in what you see being most of what there is… and that life's passed on to us empty. So, while significance weighs heavy, that's the most it does. Hidden meaning is all but absent."
:: Richard Ford (from the novel 'Canada'.)

I'm in a long distance relationship for 8 months but we've known each other for 3 years. Recently my BF told me that he is confused about the relationship and he's not sure he wants to be in one. Everything was going very well. I would go visit him and he'd visit me. We talked everyday, texted all the time & Skype. He'd tell me he loved me all the time & that he missed me (when we were apart). Memorial Day weekend we went camping with friends of his and we had a good time. I came home and about 3 weeks after he went MIA. He was distant. Out of the blue on Wednesday he tells me he's not sure he wants a relationship or be in one. He still wants to talk. I started searching anxiety online and found there's a thing called relationship anxiety. He does suffer from anxiety. When I read the symptoms of this type of anxiety it fit him perfectly. My question is how do I handle the situation, how can I help him? Or should I let him be so he can decide wether or not he does want to be with me. I love this guy to death so I'm crushed about this. It's hard to let go.

My Fiance won't stop masturbating. We've been together for a year and a half. In that time, we've had sex at least twice a week, average. And he has been able to finish only a handful of times. I have begged him to stop. Tried to explain to him how awful I feel when I can't make him finish. Nothing works. Today, we had a big fight about it. Because he told me, yet again, he hasn't stopped. He tried to compare the fact that I cannot finish during sex to him not being able to. He makes me finish every time we attempt to have sex, it isn't vaginally but it still makes us both feel good. He was mad at me for not having the ability to finish while he is inside me. Something I can't help, something out of my control. He thinks that is the same despite the fact that this wouldn't even be an issue if he would just stop masturbating. Claims that if I can't, its okay that he doesn't even though it makes me feel awful knowing he is just going to do it later. We are getting married, planning our life together. What if we can't have children because we can't have sex? What if we end up resenting each other because of this? Am I wrong or crazy to think that something has to be done?