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Desire to abuse cat????? by Darkfirerip on Sat Apr 30, 2016 5:13 am
Alright let me start this off with some context, I am a 18 year old senior who's life revolves around animals. At my house I have a cat and 7 reptiles (all mine), but at my grandparents who i vist every weeked, has not just a cat, but a spawn of pure evil. Now this cat we bought from a home as a kitten and raise it up to the evil it is today, it has never been abused and has a life full of enrichment amd everything it needs. But even so this cat does not let anyone pet it, it never purs, it breaks stuff, attacks at random, and has a ever growing desire to murder. My cat at home is the complete oppisite, so needless to say I was taken back by the attitude, and tried many things to correct this behavior. But recently I have had this ever burning passion to strangle the cat, step on its neck, or simply kill it in anyway possible. This started when the cat decided to ######6 fling one of my gecko enlosers across the room, break in, and eat its tail. It must have thought the taste was good too, because now she wont ######6 leave any of my enclosures alone and i have to hide them in the basement. Ever since she touched my precious child, I've felt this way, and I have given up on trying to fix whatever mental problem this cat has, because whenever I see it, I get a visual image in my mind of abusing the thing. This freaks me out, I would never hurt my other animals or even my cat, but this ######6 evil has me going crazy, and these thoughts i have need to stop.

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I'm in love/like with someone with ASPD by caseyy123 on Mon Dec 11, 2017 6:47 pm
you see, I've liked him for some time now but never went for it cause I used to think he was weird. (attractive though) but for the past few months him and I have been really talking. & he told me he has ASPD which I've now been researching a lot because I genuinely care for him and want to make sure he's like you know, okay?
I can't tell if he likes me or not or if we're going anywhere though? I've expressed to him many times how I like him and he thinks its odd/weird? is that bad? He let me take his V-Card but then afterwards said it felt like it didn't even happen because he doesn't really have "emotions". I'm so confused, he says he likes being with me and cuddling with me and he wants to see me like every chance he can & he blows up my phone when he gets on break/wakes up before I do or if I'm not messaging back. he's not mean or rude, he's not addicted to drugs. the only thing about him is he acts sort of emotionless like he doesn't like expressing his feelings/getting emotional? and he doesn't like kissing either which is weird cause most guys his age (19) do you know?
I really am so confused and I think I'm falling in love with him, he's the first guy I've liked since my last relationship which was a year & took a lot of healing time so I'm afraid.. should I keep going and see where it goes without getting my hopes up? or does it sound like I should just give up..? (I rather not) but I'd like to hear opinions from others with ASPD and your feelings about love.. have you ever been in love or felt strongly about someone?

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Scars i want to keep *tw* by sschoemaker on Fri Jul 25, 2014 8:13 am
My mom wants me to get rid of my scars...But i find i really don't want too. I don't not want to wake up and not see them there on my left shoulder, on my left wrist and my right hip bone. Sick? Very, i know. My own mom looked at me like i was crazy when i told her, which i probably am. No healthy person cuts themselves, that's obvious. Or at least in my case, used too.

I stopped cutting maybe a couple of months before high school graduation but it wasn't due to my mother finding me out. Instead my boyfriend did and made me promise to never do it again, cutting my mother to the punch line. My mom found out a month after him, i believe. She didn't believe me when i told her i stopped, so i gave her the scissors i used to hurt myself. That was my second step to stopping i guess. My third had to be when she got me medicine to take away the scars...but now on the fourth step, actually putting the stuff on, i'm stuck.

I've put it on once or twice but not religiously. I hate the idea of them not being there. They give me comfort and make me feel better. Am i wrong in wanting them there?

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Ending Silence by maat888 on Sun Feb 17, 2013 7:40 am
From what I have been told, I was talking and walking by 9 months old. Perhaps it is an exaggeration, but I can attest to the ease I have experienced in school, with dealing with problems, and assessing the “right” behavior in situations.

I have had one imaginary friend, from what I can remember, since I was about two years old. I remember when he first knocked on the door, a back door with a mud room in my house, and I let him in. I would tease my Dad that he was my boy friend. He kept me wonderful company and was an enlightening, safe harbor. I remember another time when someone entered through this same door. I remember that I was handed a stuffed animal by this man, but I cannot recall any more.

When I was seven, I remember feeling sure that I could survive on my own, if only my parents would let me alone. In kindergarten, I could read chapter books and would forge my mother’s signature on the homework list each week. I remember wanting the independence from my mother to moderate my own life.

My favorite thing to do at that time was read. I had a children’s encyclopedia and learned about sexual reproduction in this fashion. I discovered an obsession with looking at Michael Angelo’s “David” sculpture. I would sit and look at it for different durations each day.

Between seven and nine, my parents split up (though, I had suspected it for over a year). At this time I began having very sexual, very vivid dreams. One dream I remember was of my self in a hotel room, seducing a much older, ugly man. I believe between six and seven I was sexually abused again, by the same close friend of my family that had been in my life much earlier, and that I had let into my home through the mud room door. I cannot remember it happening, but I have returned to a certain event when I remember I was alone with this person, and there are blank spots in my memory.

I started touching my self with my dolls or stuffed animals around this time, I don’t really understand why. I would “tell” my sister’s fortune by looking into my crystal ball. Around the same time I stopped feeling normal. When I saw myself in the mirror, I felt an intense, unnatural feeling. It was almost disgust. It increased when I had on feminine clothing. I still feel it, sometimes seemingly random and sometimes by noticeable triggers, to this day.

When I was nine, I realized that my father was not scary. I saw that he would raise his voice to intimidate me- and, I saw that it was just that- and that I was capable of it too. This led me to a strange relationship with aggression. I began to “dominate” my siblings, feel an anger that was confusing and overwhelming. I felt as if something in me was red fire hot, and I had no control over it, nor the ability to stop it, nor the knowledge of how it started. I felt like a victim while I victimized other people. And still, though less frequently and with more control to mask it, I have this sensation of being a puppet. At this time I also began trying to study witch craft and wanted to be a vampire. I would mediate and attempt to make spells.

By the time I was eleven, I was not only participating in on-line sex and wishing to be kissed by a boy at school, but I was finding attendance at school more difficult, as well as having increased bouts with anxiety and depression. This only worsened as I got older. And by fourteen, I was full blown suicidal. My parents attempted to get me help, but the doctors, therapists, teachers, and medication were so easily manipulated that no one could touch me.

I would get into these crazed, raging fits of frustration and aggression. I would yell, scream, shake, cry, weep, sob; I was frightening. I started “cutting” which was mostly scratching. I started messing around with older guys. I started lying and going out and trying to drink/party as much as possible. When my father would have a chance to sit and talk to me, he would try to hug me, but I would yell insults until he would give up. I remember ...

[ Continued ]

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... by lilnumber9 on Sun Jan 15, 2012 9:50 pm
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