I'm a teen and I have an Anxiety and Depression disorder, I'm not positive but I may also have mild OCD. I'm really new too this website and forums so sorry if I do this wrong . I have so much running through my mind right now that it's really hard to decide what to say, so sorry again if what I say doesn't make sense. My parents have always been the over-protective type, both of their childhoods sucked and apparently they were both bullied tons. Unlike them, I was never bullied at school or anything like that I quite liked it, but I hate it at home. My parents like to start a fight over basically everything, either if it's with me or with each other, but either way, it always ends up my fault. I have a younger sister too, she's currently the age of 10 and I'm pretty sure she stopped aging at 6. I mean she's always had it easy, and her attitude towards me has never changed. I was never allowed to watch TV other then Family channel or Disney until late Grade 6, but she started as soon as I did... Meaning she was only in grade 2. Meaning, my mum thinks that everything I can do or/have she can do or/have. Moving on, my mom always treats me like I am her when she was my age. She decided I was a Tom-boy, that I don't like "girly things" like clothes, make-up, dating, going to the mall, going to the spa or looking good. And she really had be convinced that I was that person for a while, but once I was a little older (around 10, but not the dating part tbh none of my friends have even dated before.) I noticed that all my friends liked those things now too. I was getting older, and I wanted to act more like my gender. That's normal isn't it? Well, after all my friends changed more "girly" then they were before, I thought I should too and not just because they were but because I felt like I wasn't being who I really was. But to be completely honest, I was scared to change. Strangers looked at me and saw the fun-crazy-weird kid, the one that didn't want to grow up. And apparently my parents thought that too, so when I did start looking at different clothing at the stores when me and my mom went shopping she would say things like; "Oh no, that's nothing like you." or "Don't you think thats a bit too fancy?". When really all I would be showing was casual clothes, clothes that my close friends wore. My anxiety would kick in and I would just shut-up, agreeing to whatever she bought me. What really confuses me about this is that she always complains about the terrible clothing her mom bought her when she was a kid/teenager, and I thought that would make her want to treat me better? But I'm a teen now and guess what, you will still only find pairs of jeans and leggings in my closet with basic tees and you will only find a pair of runners and a pair of gumboots on the shoe rack that belong too me. It's not fair that I'm not allowed to grow up, I'm not allowed to be a girl, that I have been stuck in the same hole for my whole life and it's only getting bigger. All my friends wear mascara, a bit of eyeliner, eye shadow, lipstick, and all that crap, but I can only wear concealer and a bit of foundation (whatever the difference is) to hide my acne. Note: My friends are good friends, my parents have no problems with them and I have known them my whole life. Even though I'm currently only talking about 2 of them, because technically the rest left me for some unknown reason. But I do have other friends, although they are all online . Onto another subject now, remember it may not seem like much so far but thats because it's all the little things that build up inside of me. My parents like to fight with me or each other ALL THE TIME, it's really bad. When its just the two of them fighting, and it's...

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I'm a 16 year old girl. I never bit anyone as a kid or anything like that. I have been diagnosed with OCD, Severe Clinical Depression, and a Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I am on medication for those things. But I have been having the urge to bite things lately. It doesn't matter what mood I'm in. I just randomly have the urge to bite things. I mostly bite myself; I could never bite another person. Yes, I have been self-harming for a little over 4 years, so maybe it's just another form of self-harm, but it's getting pretty bad. The bite marks last about a half hour. I've only broken through skin once. What is going on with me..why am I biting all of a sudden...

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 ...

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----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.

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