I am a sixteen year old female who is sexually attracted to her own mother. I'm incredibly ashamed of it and I have no idea why I feel this way. I don't find her attractive. And I've actually had an absolutely horrible relationship with her ever since i was 13 and I cannot stand the woman.
Honestly, the relationship is so horrible. I have trouble hearing her voice without getting incredibly pissed off. But recently I've been getting so angry, that I actually become turned on. Now, the littlest things she does that used to make me so angry, now turn me on. For example, the way she handles everything so delicately, how soft her voice is...ect. ect.

I've been feeling this way for about 6 months and its been progressively getting worse. Now I find it invading my thoughts, and being on my mind frequently.
I have struggled with OCD in the past... Obsessive thoughts about things such as incest and bestiality .. but I've never had problems with obsessive thinking AND erotic feelings.

Please. help. I've attempted suicide because of this, and I haven't been able to bring myself to tell my therapist or psychiatrist.
I have looked on some forums saying that feeling sexually attracted to a family member is more common than people realize... which makes me feel a little bit better.

But I would like to know why on earth do I feel this way? And how can I make it go away?

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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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...

I am so tired of complete #######4. I don't see the point of anything anymore.

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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