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 ]

I was diagnosed with PTSD after a car accident in 2010 (age 25), and was shocked when repressed memories from the past started surfacing without warning. Along with the scenes from the car accident replaying without end, images of an abusive relationship I had been in for three years started playing, a sexual assault by a boyfriend at 19 that I blocked out, a rape I had experienced at age 18 that I COMPLETELY blocked out, emotional and mental abuse from age 11 at the hand of a boyfriend of my mother's, and various bullying events I had sustained from around age 8 through 14. It was entirely overwhelming; for about two months after the accident I spent most of every day in bed, having nightmares when sleeping, waking up screaming thinking whatever I was dreaming about was happening, then having no perception of time when I was awake, being continually trapped in recurring flashbacks that seemed to last for hours when they were really just 10-15 minutes. I sustained serious lumbar spine and nerve injuries that required heavy medication (50mcg fentanyl patches every 3 days, 200mg neurontin daily for nerve pain, 10mg klonopin for panic attacks, 30-50mg oxycodone daily for breakthrough pain, 100-200 mg orphenadrine daily for muscle spasm and opiate potentiation). I could barely muster the energy to get out of bed to go to the bathroom and shower because of the pain, so I stopped eating, lost nearly 25 pounds within a few weeks (I am a 5'5" female and was an active and relatively muscle-toned 130 lbs., so I became underweight and lost a majority of my muscle tone), so coworkers I ran into once when I had to go to my office to sign some insurance paperwork started rumors I was abusing drugs due to my frail and noticeably gaunt appearance. I withdrew almost entirely from my social circle with the exception of a few friends who were so worried abouy my sudden changes they forced me to keep in contact with them. After nearly two full years of weekly psychotherapy, many hurdles, setbacks, tears, angry and violent outbursts, losing my job, and weaning off all the pain medication, I finally got my PTSD symptoms under control in 2012. During this time I was also pursuing my undergraduate degree in psychology, which obviously delayed my studies as I dealt with my illness and injuries. Since then, I have had a very exaggerated startle response that never went away (loud noises or someone approaching me from behind seriously frightens me, causing an immediate panic response). I've had difficulty with controlling or moderating anger, and sometimes respond angrily way out of proportion to the irritant or situation. Social anxiety that I always had got somewhat worse, and depression has been a nearly constant battle also. However, I was able to find a new, better job, and maintain my GPA at 3.85.

Things were going relatively smoothly until this October, where I suddenly experienced a PTSD retriggering event. I did not consciously recognize or want to acknowledge it at first, instead convincing myself that the eerily familiar feelings were just imaginations and nothing serious, until it suddenly dawned on me one day what was happening, about three weeks after the initial retrigger. I began addressing it with my psychologist and the psychiatrist I started seeing right before the retrigger for my depression that was getting out of control in the summer. It just caught me so off guard and has made me feel so powerless again. I keep thinking that no matter how far I get in time from these events, no matter how well I do, these horrible feelings are going to arise at any time and ruin my happiness. I feel that I never truly have felt happiness, and that now I may never know what it is like. It's caused me such horrible thoughts, the suicidal thoughts, the thoughts of giving up on everything, the thoughts of withdrawing into myself, the paranoia that everyone can see through me and thinks I'm pathetic and weak for not being able to just get over it....

[ Continued ]

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.

----Every new day can change one's life; Every new experience can deepen the realm within ones world. These notions run parallel, to the story of Johnny and The Cupcake Girl----

(Character Background. If looking for eroticism, skip to next chapters.)

Prelude: Aromatic Cupcakes

The sun was beaming through the cracks of the curtains - Johnny woke up, always curious as to what the day would entail. Getting ready for work at the store was a very systematic process for him. Every slight movement, down to the way he dried off his vascular body after a steaming shower, was replicated with exact precision.

Coffee and cigarettes. The fix of the morning, yet today they seemed ever so weak. Bitter sensations on the tongue - Johnny needing something new.. Something sweet.

His inner world was intense. Always maneuvering, always watching - ever changing. Those simpletons who he sped by on the inter-state know no sensation similar to the ones concocted by Johnny's dis-inhibited mind.

Many are curious, but few truly venture. Today was the day, like so many before, that one curious, light-hearted being, would accept any contingencies within coffee shop: The Cupcake Girl. After all, what was life for the young girl without knowledge of the unknown? She was so full of life, full of energy, but being virgin to many experience which she knew exist, felt like a ghost on a winding path.. She was so confused about the world.. People and their intentions.. What she wanted.. What she stood for.. The Cupcake Girl needed something stable - Something definite. Something, to hold on to.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the labyrinth, The Cupcake Girl took the leap of faith that was so intrinsic to her nature, and necessary to develop her ever curious mind regarding that of which she had no experience.

Her name was Pricilla. And she smelled exactly like she looked.

I carry around a little pocket knife , when its just me and my daughter home. I won't take a nap when my daughter is sleeping aswell because I'm scared someone might take her while im sleeping or threaten to hurt her to make me do things. My mind continuously comes up with bad situations (example-if someone is knocking at the door I get paranoid they might force there way inside and hurt me or my family so ignore it but then I think if I ignore it they might think no ones home and break in ). I feel safe when my partner and everyone is home, but when its bedtime I lay awake and feel like someone's watching me from the windows or is going to break In and kill all of us. When I dose off I wake up scared when I feel my partner is gone and I jump to conclusions he has been dragged away and stabbed but in reality he just goes to the toilet a lot during the night . I usually end up grabbing a knife and putting it safely near me till I finally fall asleep which normally is around 3 in the morning. I feel it's my job to protect my family and if I let my guard down, someone will take their life's away and mine. I try to talk to my partner about it but he just says "stop thinking silly", I'm trying to stop but its not easy. Am I just to paranoid or crazy...