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 ]

----Every new day can change one's life; Every new experience can deepen the realm within ones world. These notions run parallel, to the story of Johnny and The Cupcake Girl----

(Character Background. If looking for eroticism, skip to next chapters.)

Prelude: Aromatic Cupcakes

The sun was beaming through the cracks of the curtains - Johnny woke up, always curious as to what the day would entail. Getting ready for work at the store was a very systematic process for him. Every slight movement, down to the way he dried off his vascular body after a steaming shower, was replicated with exact precision.

Coffee and cigarettes. The fix of the morning, yet today they seemed ever so weak. Bitter sensations on the tongue - Johnny needing something new.. Something sweet.

His inner world was intense. Always maneuvering, always watching - ever changing. Those simpletons who he sped by on the inter-state know no sensation similar to the ones concocted by Johnny's dis-inhibited mind.

Many are curious, but few truly venture. Today was the day, like so many before, that one curious, light-hearted being, would accept any contingencies within coffee shop: The Cupcake Girl. After all, what was life for the young girl without knowledge of the unknown? She was so full of life, full of energy, but being virgin to many experience which she knew exist, felt like a ghost on a winding path.. She was so confused about the world.. People and their intentions.. What she wanted.. What she stood for.. The Cupcake Girl needed something stable - Something definite. Something, to hold on to.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the labyrinth, The Cupcake Girl took the leap of faith that was so intrinsic to her nature, and necessary to develop her ever curious mind regarding that of which she had no experience.

Her name was Pricilla. And she smelled exactly like she looked.

i am CONSTANTLY picking off scabs and pimples on my face and even more so on my back. it's so embarrassing because i have tons of scars on my back and luckily on my face it isn't so bad. but whenever a new pimple or scab appears i pick it right away. i don't know why i do it. i don't even think about it when i am doing it. i don't have any disorders so i don't know if this is one and i want to know if i may have something that needs to be checked out.

Im really looking for help, just insight from people who have been through this tough and stressful road... (Cant afford, to see a therapist at the moment, insurance doesn't cover lol)
21, young..
I love people... I would give my last dollar to someone who says they need it.
Have trouble keeping a job, but getting one is easy as cake, I just get bored real quick..

Now that we've been introduced,

For a few years now I've been struggling with panic attacks and high stress...at first it was just that id get dizzy and start panicking, and my heart would feel like I was just lifting a fridge. ha

But as the years progressed I started looking up things like schizophrenia, and ADD and OCD, and for about a year and a half now my obsession with being scizo has consumed me... what sucks is that I developed a mean phobia of people doing things to my food.. I was afraid someone had done something to things prepared for me if it be in a dinner or already packaged food.. I would come home and think, what if someone broke in and tampered with the food my mom made.. Or if the delivery guy was late, did he do something to the food... I stopped eating mushrooms (because of the fear that I may eat a magic shroom lol ) I lost alot of weight because of this...lol Which would bring me to the conclusion ( and i know self diagnosing myself is bad) but that i may be scizo...

Well I started attacking my fears head on, and began eating again, anything, and everything... Things got better.. and worse. I still get the occasional panic attack but my mind is now consumed by other thoughts regarding me being scizo for other reasons now...

My mind is stuck on the what if idea that one day I snap and kill someone, or hurt someone i love.. My attention has been targeted to one person, (for a small period of time) then sometimes just anyone.. i started to push myself away from sharp objects and such.. STOPPED that early. ( i knew that once i went down that road id be screwed with more weight to carry.)

I also read that if you loose emotion towards these ideas, and instead of fearing them you become excited, or question what if you might just enjoy murder, that you may be deranged. So I (being the hypochondriac that I am) started to question this as well.. I get these weird and obsessive thoughts but now I try to laugh bout it and keep moving but i cant tell if im just getting better or tricking myself and just getting worse....

I also adopt symptoms as i read them, like i read that someone with scizo will have difficulty speaking or writing, or doing certain things, or they may hear noises or see things, so I began finding myself watching myself, (and almost forcibly) started having difficulty with speaking, or seeing things out the corners of my eyes, or hearing things around my house... I feel great when i write or talk about it, i just want to know if anyone is on the same boat as me. Am i crazy, is this normal OCD, or am I wierder than i think lol. I can get a job, I have no difficulty getting woman, Im kind of a metro sexual so i take a little to much care of myself, I like to talk, i can get along with anyone..Im just so lost rite about now, I want out of this fear, and what feels like limbo!!!

What scares me the most out of all of this is that i know how to write well, and speak well, maybe my grammar is horrific on this little yahoo answers piece, but when i really want to throw down i can... And thats what scares me, am i sane, and just obsessing over being crazy or just crazy pretending to sane...?

please leave a line, much love
Richie

when I was a child I used to force myself into peoples lives. I used beg for attention from everyone even random strangers. I couldn't tell when I was being rejected and hence constantly acted dramatically. the problem is that I cant tell whether im still like that and I don't know why I do it. its like I have no control over how I act or who i open up to. I open up to people ive just met and I end up feeling worse cos I think theyre laughing behind my back.