I carry around a little pocket knife , when its just me and my daughter home. I won't take a nap when my daughter is sleeping aswell because I'm scared someone might take her while im sleeping or threaten to hurt her to make me do things. My mind continuously comes up with bad situations (example-if someone is knocking at the door I get paranoid they might force there way inside and hurt me or my family so ignore it but then I think if I ignore it they might think no ones home and break in ). I feel safe when my partner and everyone is home, but when its bedtime I lay awake and feel like someone's watching me from the windows or is going to break In and kill all of us. When I dose off I wake up scared when I feel my partner is gone and I jump to conclusions he has been dragged away and stabbed but in reality he just goes to the toilet a lot during the night . I usually end up grabbing a knife and putting it safely near me till I finally fall asleep which normally is around 3 in the morning. I feel it's my job to protect my family and if I let my guard down, someone will take their life's away and mine. I try to talk to my partner about it but he just says "stop thinking silly", I'm trying to stop but its not easy. Am I just to paranoid or crazy...

Hi there!
20 year old girl looking for some guidance.
I have a history of mental health issues but have never been diagnosed with anything. My dad has Tourettes with ocd and my sister has anxiety disorder. We all take prozac for our anxieties though im not diagnosed. I have tendencies toward ocd, Aspergers, anxiety, and eating disorders but do not fit a particular box. Im going to list my obscure quirks based on which issue I think they fit and hopefully someone can help me if they relate or understand!

OCD Tendencies:
I have an intense fear of germs, but only human germs. Im fine with the ocean, dirt, or sand etc as long as I can wash my hands after but I can't touch doorknobs, money, etc without washing my hands IMMEDIATELY. The strange thing is I don't obsess over what these germs will do to me, like I don't think ill get sick or die or anything, I can just "feel" the germ on my hand or body and it drives me crazy until I wash it off. If I touch something really dirty, I have to wash my hands 3 times for the dirty feeling to go away.

When i was about 5 my ocd tendencies started to come out and it manifested in me being afraid of germs and dead things. Dead things WERE dirty to me. I stopped eating meat. I put my favorite toys on a high shelf and refused to play with them because I didnt want to get them dirty. I washed my hands until they’d bleed and i had to wear socks on them. Since spiders killed things, they became the dirtiest thing in the world to me. If a spider touched something, I couldnt touch that thing unless it was washed. My parents got me a “cleaning spray” (which i now suspect was just water) to spray things so i could touch them again. When I was six, a butterfly died in our hallway and got covered in ants. I had to leap over that spot in the hallway because I couldn’t touch it, and I did that until we moved out of that house 2 years later. I had meltdown after meltdown because I found out the seats in my car were made of leather.

I still can’t touch anything if a spider has walked on it. I live in the forest, so they are always in my home. I wear shoes and socks in the house because I can’t touch the floor. If something falls on the ground I either throw it away or have to pick it up with gloves and wash it. I know this is irrational and there is no fear driving it, but if I touch any place a spider has been or if a spider touches me i have to scrub and scrub my body… this is very exhausting.

Because of this I get overwhelmed by small tasks. My dad used to always get mad at me because I would leave the fridge door open when Id take something out of it, until I finally explained that I have to use my shirt to open the door and its very difficult because sometimes I accidentally touch the door and have to wash my hands again...etc. If i drop something on the floor in my house now I usually leave it there because otherwise I’d have to get gloves, pick it up, wash it, then wash my hands.. Etc.

Un-identified Tendencies:
I hate eye contact. It feels so unnatural to me, I usually avoid it unless I know its important (job interview, date, etc) and then I have to purposefully hold my gaze and focus on looking attentive. I often stop paying attention to what people are saying because I’m focusing so hard on looking like I’m paying attention (lol). I hate sitting across from people because eye contact, I always make my boyfriend sit next to me at restaurants.

I have trouble with personal space/boundaries. In lines I always get too close to people without realizing, my boyfriend has to pull me away/remind me to give people space.

If I get excited about something, I talk very very loudly without noticing. I always have to be reminded to stop yelling..

I am super clumsy and awkward. I am ALWAYS bumping into things/dropping things.. Especially in the morning.

My sister and boyfriend recently told me that people often think I am a bitch when they first meet me because of my humor. I have a super blunt/...

[ Continued ]

Hi, I'm a new member and have registered in the hope of finding a better understanding and hopefully some peace regarding my intimate relationship with my half sister.

I was adopted at birth and met my biological mother and two half sisters 6 years ago (I was 38 at the time). My two half sisters (the eldest was 28 and the youngest was 25) (and no-one else) never knew of my existence. After my mother disclosed and discussed my "re-appearance" with them, we met for the first time in 2006. From the very first moment, there was a very special bond between my eldest half sister and me. Although I dearly love my youngest half sister and we have a great relationship, which is very supportive and loving, we do not have a physical attraction to each other and we do not share the same level of emotional "understanding" that I share with my eldest half sister.

From the first moment on, my eldest half sister and I shared an amazing bond. I live in a different country to them (my mother and two half sisters), but each time we get to see each other, we have an ability to enter each other's souls in an instant, as if we have never been apart. The "connection" between us has always contained an element of physical attraction, but we never acted on it, nor discussed it. In each other's presence, we were however always stunned by the fact that no-one else picked up on it, since it always felt (and still does) like it was almost "tangible".

In 2008, our relationship became sexual and on each trip since then, we have enjoyed the most amazing intimate moments both she and I have ever experienced. First and foremost, we are truly soul mates and we share an acceptance of each other, that neither of us have ever experienced anywhere else. Our physical relationship is not our primary attraction, but flows from the amazing intimacy we share emotionally. If it were possible and because of society's views regarding relationships like these, we'd choose to exist as "just" half brother and sister, but we both understand that we'd be lying to ourselves if we pretended this to be true.

We are both Christians and love our churches and our communities. I don't have a problem with our relationship in view of my relationship with God, but my sister does struggle with it from time to time. We also understand the consequences (perhaps not fully) of our relationship, both in a community and in our family.

We have not shared our relationship with anyone and my hope is to enter into meaningful discussion regarding our situation, so that I may better understand our options. There is so much more to say, but this will do for a start.

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 ]

My mom wants me to get rid of my scars...But i find i really don't want too. I don't not want to wake up and not see them there on my left shoulder, on my left wrist and my right hip bone. Sick? Very, i know. My own mom looked at me like i was crazy when i told her, which i probably am. No healthy person cuts themselves, that's obvious. Or at least in my case, used too.

I stopped cutting maybe a couple of months before high school graduation but it wasn't due to my mother finding me out. Instead my boyfriend did and made me promise to never do it again, cutting my mother to the punch line. My mom found out a month after him, i believe. She didn't believe me when i told her i stopped, so i gave her the scissors i used to hurt myself. That was my second step to stopping i guess. My third had to be when she got me medicine to take away the scars...but now on the fourth step, actually putting the stuff on, i'm stuck.

I've put it on once or twice but not religiously. I hate the idea of them not being there. They give me comfort and make me feel better. Am i wrong in wanting them there?