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?

I have been confused all my life.. like several others... But recently.. I just can not take it any more...
Well.. Most of the time its just- who am I, WHY AM i, WHere AM I... Whats going on..?? What is this place.. this world..?? I must be a human being by this wolrds semiotic system.. i have two hands, head, eyes, etc.. what all other creatures considered as humans have... and there is such life around us.. what we live.. with rules... with manners... how things are supposed to be... well.. it doesnt make much sense to me... i am able to follow this worlds orders on my better moments.. but sometimes im just like- why, wtf?? Why should i..
Sometimes again I live normal life.. according to this world... I can pretend like normal human being.. i can even forget for some time... my confusion.. but it comes back...
I have had moments of horror... When I am afraid of everything.. I can sit in a corner of a room, my back against a wall... or go under blanket.. hide there... from the world... to calm down...
Then I have moments of emptyness... when i think.. that not even moving my hand.. inhaling.. its not worth it.. as there is no point... whats the point to eat, to walk.. to put one lef in front of another.. to move on.. what for? why to buy a new computer, why to go to work.. why to study? why to function in this world...
im not sad... i dont care... i dont know... i dont see the point...
i do care about others suffering.. i care about sad and heartbroken or lonely people, sick people in pain, hungry animals.. etc... but what can i do for them? nothing.. i cant help myself...
i have started to avoid people and social events.. its not that i can not enjoy them.. i dont know how to even behave there... they dance and drink and talk.. but im thinking- whats the point?
I can still enjoy some emotional movies or books.. they get me off my confusion.. but real life.. not any more..
i used to have some good friends and we had fun.. we were traveling and doing things together...
now i want to be alone.. hide from worls and people...
i used to feel like in Robbie Williams song-
I dont wanna die, but I aint keen on living either...
but now Im feeling...
I dont want to live this world and this life, but Im afraid of death too...

So, I dont really know what to do... I can not die, I can not live.. Im just a empty soul... somewhere... somehow...

----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 was diagnosed with AvPD and SAD and I was wondering if anyone has a horrible problem with eye contact and being touched?
I have never been able to make eye contact unless I absolutely felt like it was necessary so that I didn't seem rude.
I can't make eye contact with my dad no matter what and I can barely make eye contact with my mom.

I also have a hard time dealing with being touched. When someone accidentally touches me, I literally cringe. I then feel like I need to go wash whatever part they touched me. I can't be touched by my dad because it just feels horrible! If he touches me, I feel like I'm going to cry. I'm okay with my mom touching me SOMETIMES, but she doesn't want to touch me because she has issues of her own.
I just hate being touched so much. Hugs and hand shaking are horrifying for me.
I want to get over this, but at the same time I just really don't want to ever be touched.

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.