I've been having pure o OCD for a long time. I was never properly diagnosed, but I've been having obsessions ever since 3rd grade. Lately I started to obsessing over my sexuality, even though I've already had a crush on a boy in my school. I got over my HOCD, and after a day of pure relief, when I was scrolling through YouTube, I found a video about a trans. Immediately a thought popped in my head, "What if I am transgender?" I started to obsess over that. I am tomboy-I had a lot of the character traits and humor of boys, my voice sounded slightly deeper than other girls, I was different than other girly girls, I hate pink, my childhood toys were cars, and I even looked kind of like a boy. However, I always loved being a girl. I felt quite comfortable in my body-and I've never disliked being called 'her' and 'she'. I've had a lot of fantasies and daydreams, all of which I was a girl. I imagined myself growing old as a girl. I've always believed/identified I was female, and that was what I told myself when I first started to obsess. As time worn on, I became less sure. Every time I look in the mirror, I felt ugly and boyish. I don't want to be transgender. I keep on having unwanted thoughts m=of y=myself as a boy-I don't want to think about what it ould be like to be male because I'm scared I might like it. I dont know if I'm actually trans in denial or just TOCD. Please help!

Hello. I have been diagnosed with anxiety for a few years now. I am a sixteen year old girl, and I often struggle with intrusive thoughts. My latest anxiety has been sexual thoughts, and feeling guilty about everything. For example, my mom was doing something (I don't even remember what) and was sitting down and was in her underwear, though i couldn't tell if she was naked or not. I looked over at her for whatever reason and just kind of instinctively looked down at her crotch area (I have no idea why I do that when I accidentally see someone naked, even a family member) and afterwards, I felt like I looked too long or it was creepy of me. I have no attraction to my mother or anything. But my anxiety has been making me worry about it all day. I even kind of forced myself to glance at hers and other people's butts to prove to myself that it wasn't weird and they're just body parts, etc. But this kind of thing happens to me constantly, especially when I'm tired. I also always feel guilty and like I'm hurting my boyfriend for having these thoughts and doing these things. Is it weird that I glanced at my mom like that? I'm sorry if this is a strange question, but I appreciate your answers. Peace and love.

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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So i've never written a post ever on any forum, ever, and since things have changed for me recently, i'd decide to give this a go. Might not come back to this but i want to get whats in my head out there and see if anyone has anything to say about me and my problems.
My problems: I care about my family too much. I'm almost certain that I have depression, mild anxiety and a myriad of other mental health problems but I've never been properly diagnosed because I care about my family too much to have them worry about me at all. I also come from a culture where mental health is not a 'real' problem, but rather a thing for the weak or the bored.
I think about death a lot BUT i'm not suicidal. I'm fine with death and i'm not scared of it but I would never be able to go through with it as long as my parents are alive because I can't put them through all that pain. If they died though, I would have not much of a reason to keep going, but that is not the point of this post.
I've always been very aware of my issues and i've always been able to talk myself down in my head like there was a third person that tells the two conflicting voices in my head what to do. This third voice sounds like a trusty friend, insightful parent, or even a advising counsellor, when i think about it. This voice knows what people views as normal and suppresses my arguing voices to make me seem 'normal'. It usually takes effort but I know it works because everyone thinks I'm still this smiley, happy girl, which really hasn't been the case since about 7 years ago (when my first encounter of death in the family happened)
My dog (who's been with me for almost 15 years) died yesterday and I was sad but it wasn't a fearful, regretful sadness. It was more of a "i'll miss you" and "we've spent good time together" happy sadness, though it was really sudden and shocking. I still miss him but I don't think I'm doing too bad. My parents on the other hand haven't been able to sleep, eat, not spontaneously cry, and not talk about morbidity every couple of hours. They also hug me a lot because they think its comforting for me, and probably themselves too.
I guess what I'm saying is that is it weird that I'm so aware of what I'm almost sure I have? Does this mean I don't have these mental health issues because it doesn't really affect my daily life and I know what triggers it, how to control it, and what works/doesn't work? Do other people with mental health issues experience this too?
An analogy (if you're still reading): I deal with my problems like dealing with my period. When it starts, I know what I can do to not let it leak out for the world to see. I know what the best way to deal with the dirty pad/tampon is, to chuck it out (feeling all my feelings/non-feelings but in a physical location where no one will see me then throw them out or at least leave them where they can't be seen). I clean up after myself and flush the bloody mess away (make sure no one can physically see or pick out that I have problems at any point of any time)
What do you think?

So this is my first ever post out into the deep dark internet, but there's an issue I'm my life and my relationship that I honestly don't feel I can talk to about with anyone, like not him.. none of my friends.. so here I am turning to complete strangers.

So me and my boyfriend have been together 6 months now, we met on tinder and we hit it off like a house on fire straight away! He is one of the best people I have ever met, I'm super attracted to him and he actually wants to spend all his time with me which is more than I can say for any of my exes and we have had a great relationship thus far, except for one thing... So I have felt increasingly upset about this as time has gone on, like when we first got together we were exploring each other emotionally and also sexually, and with him being 9 years older than myself, he had a lot more sexual experience than me and he has introduced me to some new areas such an anal and general bum play which I have loved! So the first bit of our relationship, sexually this has been amazing.. but over the last couple of months he has become more tired and less interested in having sex with me, he has never been one to kiss me lots but again in the last couple of months this has diminished into giving me a peck in the morning before he goes to work.. and unless we are actually having sex, I don't get kisses off him.. he doesn't ever just snog me, and this hurts. Whenever I talk to him about it I just get 'I'm not a lovey dovey kind of person' or 'I'm not a snoggy type of person' which is ok, well its not ok.. because from where I'm standing I literally just crave so much more! Since loosing 6-7 stone over the past year I feel my sex drive has sky rocketed and I find myself wanting sex all the time, whenever I'm with him I just want to ###$ him and him do bad things to me, and when I'm alone.. I touch myself. When I'm alone and when I'm not busy I am constantly masturbating, I make myself cum sometimes 3-4 times a day when I have that chance. And so when I'm with this man who makes me so happy and who I am sexually attracted to immensely, I just want him.. and I feel that he doesn't want me as hard as I want him. When we get into bed and he makes his excuses, bats my hand away from him and tells me he's tired, I cant help but feel gutted.. I feel deflated, it kills me inside and I have to pretend like its okay and roll over and go to sleep when in fact I'm so hurt. Now, please understand when I say we do have quite regular sex, sometimes we can go a few times in a day, but on average I would say about 4 times a week.. sometimes a lot more? Now, this is where I think I have a slight addiction.. because it doesn't seem to be enough, I want to feel that intimacy so much more, maybe its because I don't get the little kisses throughout the day or even that passionate snog in the car before we go for dinner.. He is not the romantic type and unfortunately this massively shows, he never tells me I'm beautiful or says romantic things to me, or does anything romantic, and well 6 months in and he hasn't told me he loves me. I understand people go at different paces but due to this, I'm left wanting more.. and I'm having wondering thoughts, I'm lusting after anyone at the moment and I hate myself because actually the one person I want the absolute most is my boyfriend. I have tried talking to him, and I just don't seem to get anywhere.. He doesn't have much to say and just comes back with the normal 'I'm just not the romantic type' and 'I'm just so tired from work'. I feel like he isn't fully into me? Only apart from the fact he actually wants to see me all the time and literally does anything for me, he looks after me and makes me feel safe, and happy.. But where is my romance? I am a woman, with an incredibly high sex drive who just wants my man to have sex with me all the time and tell me I'm ######6 beautiful!