I am Hartlepool_lad, I have tried to type my experience on the blog about seven or eight times but each time I have erased it, the abusive voice in my head yells at me that no one is interested in my story and that I am alone, pathetic and other words that have been planted in my mind which I don't wish to reveal at the moment.

My systematic mental and physical destruction was to start almost immediately, I couldn't call or meet friends I had to explain where I'd been why I'd had to go there and what I had been doing while there and who had I spoken to, my phone and internet were checked as were my texts and e-mails. Bank account details were demanded and checked almost daily and a reason had to be forthcoming if I had withdrawn money, receipts were checked if I had paid for anything with my card, I was cut off from contacting family as she would put it “this is the only family that matters to you now” this was being constantly shored up with abuse of the type that I was crap at what I do, a useless person and painful insults that I can only shudder at now, I was verbally abused everyday, physically abused every day, I have been beaten, punched, kicked, humiliated, stabbed, had buckets of hot bleach thrown over me her aggression hightened if the house wasn't clean enough the dish washer hadn't been emptied or the ironing hadn't been done exactly how she wanted, constant accusations of infidelity, squandering money, being a useless person.

Then the torture of previous relationships started, I was given full and frank details of all the one night stands she'd had, I was informed by an ex friend of hers that she'd had threesomes and multiple encounters in one weekend.

She would regale me with the sordid details of these encounters and once estimated she'd had in excess of two hundred that she could remember and not counting the drunken one night stands she couldn't, all the while telling me that I was worthless, useless, a crap person etc.

It all came to a head in September 2005 when after months and years of such brutal torment the stress levels had reached such levels that my brain shut down for three days, I didn't know who I was, anything about myself, what I did for a job, my past anything.

I was diagnosed with P.T.S.D. Dissociative Amnesia, severe depression, social phobia and I have lost everything, my memories of my life are just shadows, the event is, as always right at the front of my eyes, she still haunts my mind and still continues to influence me inside my head, I have no respite.

Hartlepool_lad.

So My boyfriend and I have been together a little over 2 years. We are both 20 years old. Up until a few months ago he was perfect fun and outgoing. He practically bowed down and kissed my feet and did anything for me. i dont mean to sound concieted, but thats how it was! Semi-recently he has changed. It started when we moved into the city in a house with 3 other gays. He just became more stand-off ish, and didnt want to cuddle or spend too much time with me. I ignored it thinking it was coming from stress about money and such, but it got worse. He eventually seemed like he was only happy when he wasnt with me. Rarely had sex or kissed me or even acted like i was around. This all was very hard for me, but i love him so i stuck around. Everything i did or said could make him mad and start a fight. This made me try harder to be sweet and cute with him and he didnt want any part of that. About two months ago he broke up with me saying he hates the house and the housemates and he just wasnt happy, but we talked and i told him if he really doesnt want to be with me then he could go and id be okay, but i didnt want him to do that without being 100% SURE. so we ended up working it out and he did it again two days later and the same thing happened. Then a month or so went by and he told me he wasnt happy, and he didnt know why. he recognizes that he has a career and a boyfriend who loves him more than anything and he loves me the same. I told him that he needed to leave because i couldnt emotionally handle it anymore. He got a room somewhere else and still isnt happy and we are seeing each other and taking it day by day. Today he told me he hates his life and has nobody but me. I love him and want to help but i dont know how. His father disowned him 2 years ago when he told him he was gay and they used to be really close and now he doesnt see or talk to him at all. His mother isnt there for him either. He feels alone and miserable and i try to tell him to keep his head up. He needs help, i know but is there anything i should be doing? can someone help me understand becasue i take it personally when i know that i shouldnt...He lashes out at me over stupid things then later tells me hes sorry and that he wishes id just leave because he treates me like $#%^ but he says he loves me so much and doesnt understand why i put up with it...i just dont know what to do! id love to talk to someone maybe on the phone?

I just don't understand my "family". I leave my purse and wallet out on the table and they come and go through it. They just pick my wallet up and flip through my check book. And when I said something my grandmother got mad. She just got mad and smarted me off, then walked away. It's like this all the time, it's like I'm supposed to let them run over me and do or say whatever they want about me or my stuff, and if I say anything I'm a bitch or I don't know what I'm talking about. Honestly it makes me sick just to be here. Sometimes I just feel like I can't take it anymore, like my time is over and I should just commit suicide.

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...

[ Continued ]

I have always heard that when being accused of something (that you aren't and haven't done,) it's more than likely because your accuser is guilty of such. I'm certain this doesn't apply to every situation, but realistically, how often does this actually happen to you?

Based upon my husband's past experiences with a wife that cheated, drank, and drugged herself into a stupor, I understand his skepticism. I however, do not do anything at all similar, don't look similar, don't act or speak similarly. We are not the same. I am his second wife.

For the past year, it has turned into him yelling, screaming "shut your f***ing mouth" "listen to me when i speak to you" "you will respect me," and things of that nature. He tells me not to talk over him, not interrupt him, and then when I ask for a moment of his time, he cuts me off and uses his hands as a "stop" gesture to end what I have to say. In all honesty, I do not feel as though my husband respects me, or cares at all about the things I say. I am a very brutally honest and blunt, and some would say pessimistic person. I believe I just know better how to prepare for situations, and expect others to disappoint me, so I work things our in such a way that I do not get disappointed. I look at life with a very real sense of what can and cannot be accomplished in a given amount of time. I am very time-oriented.
My husband tells me that I assume to much. An example:
I tell him one thing in the A.M., he forgets by lunch 5 days in a row, and tells me that he forgot every evening. I tell him the same message on the 6th day, he gets bent out of shape because "I assumed he would forget and now I am nagging." I personally do not find that nagging or assuming. It is using deductive reasoning or taking what was learned from first-hand experiences, and applying it to the situation. This is something that happens every week.

He accuses me of being childish, immature, and needing to grow the f*** up.
I do not raise my voice at him. I am the mother of his child. I keep the house running. I am overseer of all of the financials. I went to college. I make more money than him. I have two college degrees. I am a female in a predominately male professional trade, decisive, direct, and dedicated. I have more real-world experience than he does. I am literal. To the point. Callous, if you will. I do not mince words. I say exactly what the situation calls for, and I use the correct vernacular for emotions and feelings. I had to grow up fast, and by whatever means necessary, while he grew up in the same house all his life, was the youngest of three children with a stay at home mother, and overly religious upbringing, had no responsibilities, and never been told no. I do not play games. He says I do. He is the one that plays games, blatantly ignoring repeated phone calls and going out of his way to make me feel inadequate.

Really, that's just two examples..but just this morning we had the biggest blow-up of our relationship because I asked for clarification on what he meant by a statement, and it turned into very seriously hurtful words and screaming.

Any advice, folks?