Okay, I've been searching for help. I have a problem. Let me start from the beginning.
My eldest brother suffers from cerebral palsy, and my entire childhood- my mom did not stay with me (parents are not separated) and my dad isn't exactly the loving type.
I have been a liar (without meaning to) from my childhood, and I have been sexually abused when I was a child (it didn't feel like an abuse, though)
Growing up, my elder brother (another one) kept dominating me or comparing me with my cousin brother who stayed with us. My brother would even force me to do things I didn't want to. He literally used to twist my arms.
Slowly, I feigned love for him. It happened on it's own. I actually believed myself. I knew I found him irritating and unwanted but still I respected him.
The somewhere around highschool, I got into a relationship and got cheated on. Yes, it was my first love.
It hurt. I was in a boarding school, I felt alone but never cried. I tried to take my life for reasons I can't remember. That phase of my life is a blur.
I thought everything would be okay.
It didn't.
My dad took me to a therapist, but my mom felt I was possessed by a spirit.
I'm 16 now, but I still haven't rebelled or gone against my parents.
Anyway, I never met the therapist again but I had to take part in rituals and what not.
Back to my brother, he manipulated me and made me look bad in front of my parents.
Being the weak, submissive sister I was, my parents never thought it was my fault.
Moving forward, he even made me lift up my shirt because he wanted to see my body type. I was obsessed with losing weight, I was dumb, I did it.
Now he would hug me weirdly and said I never hugged him properly. It sounds funny but he said my butt was too outwards, it should be inwards towards the person I was hugging.
Now, back to my elder brother, I know that he is suffering. But he does so many things to get attention. Shouts, screams, cries all day long. I'm suspecting that he even feigns illness. It isn't that we don't love him, we do. We do everything he asks, but still...
My father has never been affectionate. But he has always been there for me. We're good friends.
My mom, I don't know. She always makes me feel that marrying dad was a mistake. We're good friends, but... I feel trapped. Everything I do has to be under her.
I can't do anything on my own.
I feel suffocated.
So, around five months ago, my elder brother died. He was an alcoholic. He hit me, we fought. I never spoke to him again. I guess, I never will. I hadn't seen his face for a week or so, and when I did... I knew it was lifeless but it didn't look that way. I can't accept what happened. I'm angry that I couldn't be angry at him anymore. I don't know.
Now, I'm rude to people. My teachers say that I have lost that shine. My writing suddenly improved. I can laugh but still I feel different. None of my friends talk to me. I only have online friends.
I feel so alone.
Sadly, I think I like it that way.

I was doing pretty well for a while. My coping skill was eating(more of a mechanism) and it was helping me a lot. Now, I can't even stomach anything. The closer the trial is getting, the more my depression is hitting me. It feels like I can't distract anymore. I can't even look at anything with a razor any more. I feel so sick. Some one please help me.

i am CONSTANTLY picking off scabs and pimples on my face and even more so on my back. it's so embarrassing because i have tons of scars on my back and luckily on my face it isn't so bad. but whenever a new pimple or scab appears i pick it right away. i don't know why i do it. i don't even think about it when i am doing it. i don't have any disorders so i don't know if this is one and i want to know if i may have something that needs to be checked out.

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.

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????