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boy alter who is also a little alter by dissociatingdarling on Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:18 pm
so i have d.i.d. (dissociative identity disorder) and one of my alters is named benji. benji is an 8 year old boy in the body of a 18 year old biologically female. i have no issues regarding my gender or sex and feel i was born in the right body. benji has such bad dysphoria that he hates coming out, refuses to look at himself in the mirror, refuses to take pictures, and everyone can feel how much sad it makes him. last night was the final straw though when my mom wanted to take pictures and he was co-fronting with me he started to cry because he asked her why she needed to take them. my mom dismissed his feelings and i just want to help him. anyone have something similar to this or have any ideas on how to help? i am so lost right now...

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i feel terrible by peachyjordyn on Wed May 30, 2018 10:37 pm
so, i was about 12 when all of this had happened. it started with a prank where my friend dared me to pretend to be this girls boyfriend online (i am a female). i wanted to stop the prank but my friend forced me to keep going and get nudes from the girl we pranked. the girl ended up sending them andy i ended the prank kinda rudely. i said “there’s a hot girl at school bye.” the girl we pranked ended up not going to school the next day and i thought nothing of it. a while later and i was with the friend i pranked. that friend and i were playing truth or dare. she had dared me to do things like twerk in my underwear, take my shirt off and show my boobs. then, i dared her to lick my vagina. she ended up doing just that. she was trying to get me to lick her but i said no. her mom ended up somehow finding out and guys at school were saying that i made that girl lick me. instinctively i knew she told people even though she swore she didn’t. my mom was told everything by her mom and we had a meeting with the four of us. i apologized and th girl apologized. we hung out and played air hockey after. then i was at school and a police officer handcuffed me and said that that girls mom called him and told him everything. (keep in mind this is after the four of us met and talked and me and that friend actually hung out a few times.). so this police officer had told me that i committed crimes like: child pornography, cyber bullying, and sexual harassment. i was crying and he said i was fake crying. he also told me i could go to juvenile hall. apparently the friends mom didn’t want to file charges or go to court so i don’t get the point of telling a police officer. i am just very worried that this will prevent me from getting a job and going to college. the police officer said that my friend AND her mom talked before calling the police. i talked to my friend and she claims she never heard a word about it. she was actually at a foster home at the time because her mom got really mad at her. so technically the mother could get in trouble. i have been scared of police ever since this. i just need help and comfort. i was only 12 and i was exploring. and i’m still scared today.

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I unfriended my depressed friend. by owlcityislove on Sat Sep 03, 2016 12:37 pm
I unfriended my depressed friend. She was very demanding and refused to accept criticisms, but she tried to be a friend, and that's what makes me feel guilty. She has depression and anxiety, but I'm not the kind of person who's patient and understanding enough to deal with someone who gets angry at constructive criticisms and isn't willing to help herself. She asked me if I only befriended her out of pity, and I said "yeah a little" because I'm a very straightforward person and I'm not a very "empathetic" person per say, and yes that's a horrible thing to say, but I wanted out of the friendship that made me so anxious and unhappy all the time. Our friendship lasted for about 2 years, which was rather long considering that I only befriended her out of pity. It ended unhappily, with her telling me that I was selfish, but I know I couldn't put up a fake front anymore and I feel more liberated than sorry. Can someone tell me if what I did was right? Ending the friendship? I wanted to be a more understanding friend as well and attempted to make it last, but she really made me lose my head, any advice on that?

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My screwed mind - GID and DID by omeganashik on Thu Sep 19, 2013 9:25 pm
At the age of eleven, five years ago, I recall calling a voice in my head the narrator, because he would refer to my life in third person, always negatively, constantly talking, and arguing with me, To this day. As far back as I can remember I have had a want to become female, purely for physical reasons, however, this need was intermittent, usually I had the standardly accepted gender identity, I even imagine being a father- not a parent or mother, a father- and now at sixteen my gender identity feels as if it has split into two, transgendered and 'normal,' while I am now 'turned on' by material of transgendered nature at times, but usually am not. The narrator has also evolved, triggering bouts of sudden uncharacteristic anger, while I am usually calm and cheerful. I sometimes find that my face is curling into a look of anger or contempt, or that I have sudden images of badly hurting people who do something I dislike, that may have been an acceptable thing to do, but for whatever reason I just feel foreign satisfaction in imagining pain.

I began looking through myself, basically just trying to figure out what the hell is wrong, and the following are the results:

At the age of six I had a crush on a girl in my primary school class, she left that year, for other reasons. This is the most definite starting point I can place for my tgism. then, at eleven, I had my second crush, on another classmate, and she walked up to me and told me to stay away from her shortly after the two friends I told this secret to went and told everyone. My theory is that my subconscious took these rejections, and the stereotypical views on geeks and indians, and sculpted from them the idea that I was so repulsive that the only way I could ever have a girl in my life was to be a girl, and so that shard of my gender identity broke away, and from this information I called that shard Lust. Lust doesn't seem to be as conscious as the narrator (who is now named Anger), though she has on two occasions exclaimed on how 'hot' a guy was, though this may be because of nightly masturbation to the idea of being a girl, leading to lust already being expressed. Anger, however, is kept under lock and key, and so usually has a voice. There are other signs as well. I used to use electronic devices excessively, even when supposed to be sleeping, but I voluntarily stopped, and recently I've started feeling tired after 11am, as if I hadn't gotten the sleep that I obviously did. Occasionally, when writing, my hand forms a squiggle instead of a letter, and my handwriting has deteriorated, and today when trying to write while holding the pen loosely, I could only make squiggles.

There may be other voices, occasionally when playing a sport I become giddy, speaking without thinking, and really jumpy, and sometimes I hear a crowd, but that may be Anger messing with me.
There's a chance I am only imagining all of this, but I don't want to take that risk.
Help me please.

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The devil still lurks, so why not raise my meth dose?? by bookofwildthoughts on Tue Feb 21, 2012 6:14 pm
So 2 weeks have gone by already. The 12 induction days are now over, what a relief ! I can still remember how I was living this, how days went by so slowly, with those 2 ‘girls’, those 2 bi*ches ‘rendering ‘ my life hell. Today, while we were on our meth doctor’s rendez-vous or consultation, one of my ex-induction friends (i accept to employ the word ‘friend’ here, how kind of me!) was talking over to me and that conversation TOOK ME BACK TO THE DAYS! Yes, back to the 12 induction days when we were all together, ha! To cut this story short (since I’m not writing about this today, some other day maybe…), I’m just glad I made it out! I imagined two more days with these animals in that cacophonic jukebox, that cacophonic cage, and I would have hung myself out dry, shyiiit. Believe it or not, I even made a rope out of my blanket, ready to be used… “Anytime!” I mumbled, without even shedding a tear, not even afraid of dying, well it was just for a few minutes, since that feeling quickly got out of me.

So today, when I went over to my meth doctor on consultation, the latter asked me if all’s well, if I didn’t get any side effects from my methadone or if I encountered any craving during my first week out and if I’m happy with my current meth dose. Well I told him the truth, nothing but the plain truth: every morning, I would wake up with my yawnings and running nose well, not as much as the time when I was addicted to heroin like back in the days LOL, but I’m not supposed to get any of this, not even an inch of all this ! My body was not on top mode, which is true as compared to the days when I was on induction. Even if I didn’t sleep at that time, my bosy was not as torn as it is now; we had less physical activities, less thinking to do and most of all, no stress at all, no phone ringing, no email to check, no meeting, nothing! As on my current life situation, when all’s back on other than the heroin cravings gone, I would have to, for instance, assist my parents in cleaning their yards, yes yards with an ‘s’. The truth? Well, I prefer to stay at work premises rather than spend a day home when my parents are at home as well since there would always be somewhere to go, something to do, no rest at all. And the days where we have nothing to do (meaning no cleaning or house chores), well, we would spend the days at the beach swimming and running on the beach. And I’d be all cranked up the next day at work, body all messed up, cramps, etc…

So I told all this to my meth doc and the latter just thought that was gibberish, from what I could conclude. The first thing he would mention was that I didn’t do as much physical efforts in an office, forgetting the fact that office is a part of my life. He said he would raise my daily meth dose but the question remains, since he didn’t write anything in front of me, and that’s quite discouraging.

Because then, the devil would lurk around me and maybe at a later stage, push me back on the streets who knows?? I know very well that a higher meth dose (maybe a 5ml raise might do to start with) is not recommended. Is it not better to be on a relatively higher meth dose than to hit back the streets ?

Think about it !

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