I'm not sure what I should do, I had a dream and my therapist was in my dream, by the way the dream was NOT sexual. I am wondering if I should tell him about my dream or not????

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/...

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I was diagnosed with PTSD after a car accident in 2010 (age 25), and was shocked when repressed memories from the past started surfacing without warning. Along with the scenes from the car accident replaying without end, images of an abusive relationship I had been in for three years started playing, a sexual assault by a boyfriend at 19 that I blocked out, a rape I had experienced at age 18 that I COMPLETELY blocked out, emotional and mental abuse from age 11 at the hand of a boyfriend of my mother's, and various bullying events I had sustained from around age 8 through 14. It was entirely overwhelming; for about two months after the accident I spent most of every day in bed, having nightmares when sleeping, waking up screaming thinking whatever I was dreaming about was happening, then having no perception of time when I was awake, being continually trapped in recurring flashbacks that seemed to last for hours when they were really just 10-15 minutes. I sustained serious lumbar spine and nerve injuries that required heavy medication (50mcg fentanyl patches every 3 days, 200mg neurontin daily for nerve pain, 10mg klonopin for panic attacks, 30-50mg oxycodone daily for breakthrough pain, 100-200 mg orphenadrine daily for muscle spasm and opiate potentiation). I could barely muster the energy to get out of bed to go to the bathroom and shower because of the pain, so I stopped eating, lost nearly 25 pounds within a few weeks (I am a 5'5" female and was an active and relatively muscle-toned 130 lbs., so I became underweight and lost a majority of my muscle tone), so coworkers I ran into once when I had to go to my office to sign some insurance paperwork started rumors I was abusing drugs due to my frail and noticeably gaunt appearance. I withdrew almost entirely from my social circle with the exception of a few friends who were so worried abouy my sudden changes they forced me to keep in contact with them. After nearly two full years of weekly psychotherapy, many hurdles, setbacks, tears, angry and violent outbursts, losing my job, and weaning off all the pain medication, I finally got my PTSD symptoms under control in 2012. During this time I was also pursuing my undergraduate degree in psychology, which obviously delayed my studies as I dealt with my illness and injuries. Since then, I have had a very exaggerated startle response that never went away (loud noises or someone approaching me from behind seriously frightens me, causing an immediate panic response). I've had difficulty with controlling or moderating anger, and sometimes respond angrily way out of proportion to the irritant or situation. Social anxiety that I always had got somewhat worse, and depression has been a nearly constant battle also. However, I was able to find a new, better job, and maintain my GPA at 3.85.

Things were going relatively smoothly until this October, where I suddenly experienced a PTSD retriggering event. I did not consciously recognize or want to acknowledge it at first, instead convincing myself that the eerily familiar feelings were just imaginations and nothing serious, until it suddenly dawned on me one day what was happening, about three weeks after the initial retrigger. I began addressing it with my psychologist and the psychiatrist I started seeing right before the retrigger for my depression that was getting out of control in the summer. It just caught me so off guard and has made me feel so powerless again. I keep thinking that no matter how far I get in time from these events, no matter how well I do, these horrible feelings are going to arise at any time and ruin my happiness. I feel that I never truly have felt happiness, and that now I may never know what it is like. It's caused me such horrible thoughts, the suicidal thoughts, the thoughts of giving up on everything, the thoughts of withdrawing into myself, the paranoia that everyone can see through me and thinks I'm pathetic and weak for not being able to just get over it....

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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.

Hello, I'm a cutter...

Why do I cut? What turned me into a self hater who scars his body and often wants to die?

I'm a 44 year old man who has seen his world fall apart two years ago. I was seriously injured on the job to the point of full disability. I can no longer do the job I lived to do, which was Police work. Add to that the fact that I suffer horrific pain everyday due to my back injury. I have crushed a total of 9 discs in my upper, middle and lower back and have to use a cane to walk.

Not only do I have permanent nerve damage, but as a result I lost function of my bladder and need to urinate with a catheter and a leg bag. I have had several surgeries to include a two level cervical fusion, an interstim implant for my bladder and a Morphine drug pump implant. Despite these surgeries, the Morphine pump and oral pain meds I am still in a great deal of pain all day and night; awake and sleeping. I still have a few more surgeries I must endure in the next year. This physical pain alone is one reason why I cut myself.

Since I don't have any control of the constant pain related to my back injury I at least have control over the pain I endure when I cut myself. I don't scratch myself...when I cut I cut deep and I have scars over 70% of my body. I often cut out of anger or frustration, because I lost my passion for life when I lost my career as a Police Officer. It's extremely difficult to go from being physically able to chase bad guys, make arrests and help others to someone who can barely walk and is in constant pain.

Over the past two years I have gone from a mentally confident and competent person to a mental basket case. Now I must say that prior to my career ending injury I suffered from PTSD and bouts of depression related to my Police experiences while employed by NYPD during 9-11 and survivor's guilt. Also, growing up I would from time to time cut myself. Oh yeah and when I was 13 years old I slit my wrist and OD on medication in an attempt to end my life. It was really tough covering up the huge ass scar on my wrist, especially while applying for work as a Police Officer. I don't regret the scar, I regret the fact that I lived. Looking back I guess there have been many times where I was in harms way and could of, should have died, but didn't. This happened more often of course during my Ten years of Police work. Looking back now I can honestly say that I wanted to be a Police Officer so I could die. Had you asked me while I was still working as a Police Officer I would have said it was so I could help people and save lives.

Anyways, I now suffer from a whole host of mental disorders, such as Major Depressive Disorder, BiPolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, PTSD and a couple of other disorders that escape me at this time. I'm taking a handful of medication daily in the hopes of controlling my mental and physical pain.

It's not working, I can't sleep and the urges to cut keep getting stronger. I also envision me cutting my own throat with a knife. I can be sitting on the couch watching a TV show and out of no where I see it...I see the knife in my hand held to my throat. I wonder, is this how I am supposed to die? I always hoped it would be via lead poison ( aka a bullet). No matter, I keep cutting and my wife sees the cuts and scars and naturally freaks out. I'm putting her through hell and that just adds to my anxiety and frustration that often boils over and results in even more cutting! I wish I could post pictures so you can see my scars and know that this is for real. I'm living a nightmare and I'm ashamed of myself for being so weak. Two years ago I was a decent role model for other Officers and the community I lived to protect and serve. Now...now I am suicidal and spend most of my time at home, in pain and alone.

The urges are becoming too great and I'm fast losing any control. My cuts are becoming deeper and deeper. How can I cut out the ugly side of me when...

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