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 ]

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've been having pure o OCD for a long time. I was never properly diagnosed, but I've been having obsessions ever since 3rd grade. Lately I started to obsessing over my sexuality, even though I've already had a crush on a boy in my school. I got over my HOCD, and after a day of pure relief, when I was scrolling through YouTube, I found a video about a trans. Immediately a thought popped in my head, "What if I am transgender?" I started to obsess over that. I am tomboy-I had a lot of the character traits and humor of boys, my voice sounded slightly deeper than other girls, I was different than other girly girls, I hate pink, my childhood toys were cars, and I even looked kind of like a boy. However, I always loved being a girl. I felt quite comfortable in my body-and I've never disliked being called 'her' and 'she'. I've had a lot of fantasies and daydreams, all of which I was a girl. I imagined myself growing old as a girl. I've always believed/identified I was female, and that was what I told myself when I first started to obsess. As time worn on, I became less sure. Every time I look in the mirror, I felt ugly and boyish. I don't want to be transgender. I keep on having unwanted thoughts m=of y=myself as a boy-I don't want to think about what it ould be like to be male because I'm scared I might like it. I dont know if I'm actually trans in denial or just TOCD. Please help!

At the age of eleven, five years ago, I recall calling a voice in my head the narrator, because he would refer to my life in third person, always negatively, constantly talking, and arguing with me, To this day. As far back as I can remember I have had a want to become female, purely for physical reasons, however, this need was intermittent, usually I had the standardly accepted gender identity, I even imagine being a father- not a parent or mother, a father- and now at sixteen my gender identity feels as if it has split into two, transgendered and 'normal,' while I am now 'turned on' by material of transgendered nature at times, but usually am not. The narrator has also evolved, triggering bouts of sudden uncharacteristic anger, while I am usually calm and cheerful. I sometimes find that my face is curling into a look of anger or contempt, or that I have sudden images of badly hurting people who do something I dislike, that may have been an acceptable thing to do, but for whatever reason I just feel foreign satisfaction in imagining pain.

I began looking through myself, basically just trying to figure out what the hell is wrong, and the following are the results:

At the age of six I had a crush on a girl in my primary school class, she left that year, for other reasons. This is the most definite starting point I can place for my tgism. then, at eleven, I had my second crush, on another classmate, and she walked up to me and told me to stay away from her shortly after the two friends I told this secret to went and told everyone. My theory is that my subconscious took these rejections, and the stereotypical views on geeks and indians, and sculpted from them the idea that I was so repulsive that the only way I could ever have a girl in my life was to be a girl, and so that shard of my gender identity broke away, and from this information I called that shard Lust. Lust doesn't seem to be as conscious as the narrator (who is now named Anger), though she has on two occasions exclaimed on how 'hot' a guy was, though this may be because of nightly masturbation to the idea of being a girl, leading to lust already being expressed. Anger, however, is kept under lock and key, and so usually has a voice. There are other signs as well. I used to use electronic devices excessively, even when supposed to be sleeping, but I voluntarily stopped, and recently I've started feeling tired after 11am, as if I hadn't gotten the sleep that I obviously did. Occasionally, when writing, my hand forms a squiggle instead of a letter, and my handwriting has deteriorated, and today when trying to write while holding the pen loosely, I could only make squiggles.

There may be other voices, occasionally when playing a sport I become giddy, speaking without thinking, and really jumpy, and sometimes I hear a crowd, but that may be Anger messing with me.
There's a chance I am only imagining all of this, but I don't want to take that risk.
Help me please.

Hello

My problem is not much complicated it's just I can't find a way to interact with society
I find their way illogical it's how they talk how they want to be diplomatic and want to be leader I dont know what to do when someone is crying in front of me
I dont know why they question on a question.
Its totally illogical
Just help me
M a 19 yr old guy
I dont know it's normal or not.!