Hi there.
You may call me Bunnie. I am a 23 year old female who is recently married. While I am completely happy and content with my life, I still carry a lot of baggage on a daily basis and need somewhere to go to write and vent. My mother is believed to have extreme narcissistic personality disorder and has been diagnosed multiple times with bipolar disorder. However, because of her narcissism, any treatment is slapped away. She cannot maintain a stable lifestyle, a job, and refuses to pay rent. She recently got arrested for exactly that and any other information regarding her is simply my grandparents and I digging around trying to find something out.

My sister, half sister to be exact, is a 19 year old "mother" of two who recently had her children taken from her by DCS and relocated to a loving family trying their best to deal with the cases appropriately and cooperate with her while she gets her life together. However, her priorities and terrible attitude is questionable regardless of what she claims. She has been told to do numerous things all of which she either ignores or makes sure she does the minimum. I would have dismissed all of this a long time ago and moved on with my life if I didn't care so much. I want the best because our mother never provided anything for her. I want my nephews to have a good life and to have their mother. It is these reasons that I have tried to be the appropriate rock, but her attitude and my limited affect on this situation, legally, makes it that much harder.

Every day I struggle with my role in all of this. I want the best for everyone. I want them to get the help they need. But the stress of it all effects my life on a daily basis. My life is great. I have a stable job and my husband and I are starting our own business. I am a photographer and he is a videographer/producer. If we continue on the path that we are on, we will be highly successful.

Which is why I had to find somewhere to turn to vent and give me direction. I need to deal with this appropriately and help who I can where I can without causing more damage than I am helping.

I have had blogs over the years but none that I felt comfortable truly venting in. Nowhere that gave me proper feedback or guidance. I came here because I feel like this is where I can find that. Because I definitely need it.

-HMD

I am 27 and have lived with cutting for most of my life lately I have put quite a lot of thought into when in started or why I started. I think back and remembered cutting at 11 years old why I did it not a clue could have got in trouble or something but it was a *mod edit* razer yet its been months scents I have shopped for the in boulck there still around. its been 16 years I have been cutting....

Today day and time 20th:
Its been hard lately I know what I do is far from OK good or safe
A key that keeps me going to deep or bleed for to long is the thought of tears on my sisters face.
I'm do to have a son in two months.
Her head games to help this time I'm going through.
Its been three days every night shower on blade out cut *mod edit* times upper arm tell my heart slows to a mild beat a twitch here a twitch there I fill like I'm taking to far waking up or fading out in a tub of my sin filled blood

Not really sure why I'm writing all I know is I'm lost only wish I can cry it out ....

I don't know whats going on with me, its getting worse and im getting tired. Im a boy, 20 years old and I can't remember as many details as I would like to remember about who and what I was before that 'something' happened thats why I'll be vague with some things. If you think you may have and idea or have some information or a good advice on this please feel free to answer cause I'm desperate.
I've been in and out of psychiatric institutions since high school and I've been diagnosed multiple times by different doctors (Antisocial personality disorder, Borderline personality disorder, Anxiety, Depression, Schizophrenia Paranoid, Schizoaffective disorder, Bipolar not otherwise specified.) When I was younger I was pretty much in control of myself, some things with me were off but nothing that really bothered me, things like excessive boredom, intrusive thoughts, derealization and depersonalizations and not being able to not to fake every social interaction, a giant disgust for every human, an entertained mind with every mechanic answer, things people could just not see, I planned everything I said and everything I did, it was automatic, It was sorta exciting getting everything I wanted, I stole things like whole outfits in expensive clothes stores even though I had the money just because it was exciting and made me feel good, I abused all kinda of drugs and people in a way, I got sorta lost in the drug path, I started getting psychotic and I did a lot of crazy things like going out of town, not sleeping, spending weeks on the street, drugs, wild parties, sex with strangers, but then a day I started to notice that I wasn't so sure of what I was doing, something that I think I never felt before, I was kinda lost, I was kinda alone and I didn't knew what was the next step to take, like if the part of me that was sure of everything and had everything sorted out disappeared, the drugs were getting down and I was so exhausted and desperate feeling that I couldn't go out for more, now i'm clean except for weed (auto medication) I became aware of every little thing but didn't know how to deal with it or what was the importance of everything, I have a cloud in my mind and im not sure of anything I don't know how to explain it, its driving me crazy, I want to stab my face multiple times after I stab everyone else, I always thought that in a way (a proxemic way) I can read peoples minds but after this happened it was like their thoughts and expression became sharp and aggressive to me, and now its like they can hear my thoughts too in that way also, something happened to my nerves, I can't be relaxed, not in my house, not in my bed, not in my sleep, I just can't relax its like If I am possessed and my brain and inside my body its burning I have ricing and negative thoughts, i'm angry and irritable to the core, to the point that if some one talks to me in that moment I snap and attack them with everything I have and I hurt myself cause I need it to stop now, it so much. Everyday I end up screaming and scratching my face because I don't quite get what im feeling but it is a lot, I can't concentrate, I can't decide between stupid easy things, I feel guilty all the time, I can't organize my mind and put whats first first, that makes me angry as ###$, I can't sleep well, I have panic attacks, night terrors, my stomach hurst and I need to throw up since I wake up, this are just some things that are happening, there are a lot more but I don't know what its important what its not, I also some times experience selective mutism when some one asks me what is happening because my brain does not know the answer or at least thats what I think. No one has been able to help me, not the doctors, not in the clinic , I don't trust anybody and im fearing that Im gonna have to kill myself because I won't live like this my whole life, and its not getting better, 2 years now, I feel hopeless. Alexithymia and mixed bipolar episode are things that can describe...

[ Continued ]

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?

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 ...

[ Continued ]