*Trigger* This is a long story but I will try to be as brief as possible. I am very new to forums and anything I say is without judgement of any form of disorder, as I am all to aware of the impact it has on all parties and how the sufferer is impacted. Please do not take any offence as I'm still trying to understand, accept and work with its far reaching concsecuences and would ask all posters to remain non-judgementa. Thank you.

My wife and I have been in a relationship for 16years, married for 4 and have 3 year old Daughter together.

Most of the revelations from the events of the past two months have made me realise that in hindsight my wonderful true love has suffered from more than the diagnosed general anxiety and depression that has been interwoven in our lives for all this time.

Two months ago my mother in-law lost her on/off 10 year battle with cancer. We were all left devastated, but my wife who has always been considered the most emotional member of the family showed little grief, despite being greatly consumed for the entire decade of this fight.

Two days after her passing, my wife had a memorial tattoo and immediately confessed she had fantasised over the artist and made sexual advances towards him. My wife has always despised adultery and we had talked openly about friends who had committed this most "despicable" of acts. My wife has also always been very timid around strangers, sexually unadventurous and incredibly attached to myself. I put this down to the trauma and suggested that some form of therapy for her grief, along with open discussion would help and that I would support her all the way.

The situation became worse on the day of her mothers funeral, as the following day she confessed she had been awake all night sending naked pictures of herself to men she had never met. She made in her own words " throw away " comments that she would be better off dead, how a massive hole was consuming her and how she was unable to love anyone or inflict her "issues" on me anymore.

Her family although unaware of the full facts all agreed she should see her GP immediately, who subsequently referred her directly to A&E. The Doctors fortunately could see the full picture and my wife's reluctance to open up, or even admit she had a problem. They talked to both her sister and I and after discussions at board level, generally agreed she suffered from a personality disorder and offered immediate therapy and support, this has sadly been refused and ignored by my wife.

During this period our daughter was also suffering from pneumonia and my wife was unable to fully cope with this and embarked on offering herself for NSA sex via the Internet, sleeping with 6 unknown men (at least) in a period of weeks, all of the encounters potentially dangerous given the unknown quantity of the individuals and the environments the acts were taking place.

My wife has always suffered from angry outbursts, issues of social acceptance, 'living in and blaming the past', fear of abandonment and an inabilty to focus on positive aspects of life. Its also important to teveak that she was beaten by her father as a child, along with her sister and mother and her fathers family also had a history of sexual abuse, although my wife claims she was never assaulted in this manner.

Whilst this has left me devastated and whilst an exact diagnosis is not possible without therapy and dialogue from my wife, I know the most caring and loving person I fell for all those years ago, now has some form of explanation as to why she feels like this, as do I for the roller coaster relationship we have experienced.

As a footnote, not only does my wife not accept their is a problem with her actions or health, she has also started drinking heavily and vilifies me to anybody that she is able to convince, normally those who have infrequent contact with her or myself and are unaware of the full picture . These individuals are now validating...

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Everyone has a dream no matter how simple it is or impossible to achieve we do the best we can to achieve it in a good way of course. As a young girl my dream was to get married in church, have children, have a house, a steady income and so on and so forth. You know what I'm saying. My first husband was very dedicated and ambitious. He was an excellent provider and I always knew I could count on him. The demise of my first marriage was lacking the skill of understanding of a wife and being supportive. Although, we were blessed with 2 great sons I didn't give it my all. I was so confident in fact overly confident that since we had everything that I became so comfortable. After 15 years of marriage it ended due to lack of things in my part like communication and just being a wife. It was a devastating experience but, only when I stepped back did realize he was always reaching out to me but I was not emotionally available. Although, there was a different type of love it was more of respect I had for him. While the divorce was in process I dipped my toes in the dating scene to realize that boy oh boy it was so different way back then when men will come over to your house, court you, bring you presents and ask your parents permission. Now it became more of a meat market. For a few years I enjoyed it. After 3 years my divorce was finalized. But, the dating scene made me feel more empty that finding a man is quite difficult a good one I should say. With so many options, technology and how society views a relationship which was a hush hush before was just normal. Of course due to my religious belief I never stopped praying and hoping that someday I will be blessed with the right man more so a man of God. As I continue my search I was asked to meet a man by my room mate’s best friend who happens to be her best friend’s room mate. I was hesitant for I already have set my standards of what I wanted and who I wanted to be man of God, ethnicity wise, height, education, looks, financial status, morals, loyalty, fidelity and values you name it I had it written down. When I met this man he was 40 and the first thing he said he just got home at 5am for he was in the club with friends in their 20's. That, not to sound judgmental should be the first big red flag. He was grilling some meat and as soon as it was cooked he was serving everyone and making sure all the ladies were taken care of red flag number 2. As the afternoon dies and getting closer to the evening he wanted to talk to me more. We sat down he told me he is separated although his family is in San Diego him and his wife still share one house but separate bedroom because they have 2 daughters. Then we started praying together now that one was a big plus for me since most of the man I dated either doesn't believe in God or doesn't practice their religion at all. I really liked him. He sent me roses at work and we would talk on the phone for hours. From that day we were inseparable. Everything happened so quick we moved in together and got a place. After 4 months I noticed he placed some ads and searching on craigslist for fun. That should be red flag number 3. I never did confronted him until I found out on his face book which he posted our pictures that he has strings of women again red flag number 4. That same year he filed for divorce and the ink wasn't dry on his divorce papers he wanted us to get married before 2010 ended. I was happy don't get me wrong but quite confused as to what the rush was since our sponsors will be in Bahamas and won't be back until first week of January 2011 found out due to taxes that may have been red flag number 5 but I was aware about it but I still filed Married filing separate. The course of our marriage was very chaotic since his daughter moved in with us she still couldn't grasp the divorce that happened to her parents even if both have their own partners. For months I subjected my self with verbal abuse and demeaning things both my second husband and...

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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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I've been looking everywhere online for advice, and everyone I talk to says I should go to some sort of psychotherapy. I don't know about it, though.. I finally had the courage to tell my sister what's been going on - I've been hallucinating, I can't sleep too well (3 hours a night is my current average), I get very nauseated whenever I eat so I've lost a significant amount of weight. There's headaches, dizziness, fear (of nothing, really), anxiety, trembling, it's hard to breathe sometimes, too. I had a panic attack about two weeks ago, it lasted for maybe fifteen minutes. My dad says he used to have panic attacks, and I read somewhere that it's more likely for me if it runs in the family. I can't stand being alone because these hallucinations get worse when I am. I'm also being cold(-hearted) lately towards my mom and sister. I feel very anxious -at night especially- and self harm calms me down. I started scratching my wrists and digging my nails into them. I don't want to do this, but it's become very addicting and even soothing. My sister wants me to see a psychiatrist, and put me on anti- depressants. What should I do about this? Please help.

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?