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Depersonalization/derealization/borderline personality by Meeyowzah on Sun Aug 30, 2015 8:13 am
Ive been struggling with depersonalization for a few months now. It began after a year long 24/7 battle with extreme social anxiety and fear. My brain has shut down and i dont feel fear anymore or nervousness. Not even when talking to people. I feel very dettached and unhuman. I dont feel real. I cant even recall the last moment of happiness i found. I feeel relaxed and peaceful but unable to relate to anyone and have a very profound lack of interest in socializiong. Although i dont really feel emotion i can tell i am experiencing symptoms closer related to panic disorder - like difficulty breathing , tightened blurry vision, tensed jaw, etc. the most disturbing apsect of this to me is that i sincierely believe i have no personality, quirks, opinions, interests, or dislikes. Nothing moves me and i can not seem to make my mind up about anything simple or large because i really feel internally that i just dont have a preference for anythinng at all. I have no sense of self to be honest. I often feel transparent and itd hard to feel like you have a relationship with anyone when you cant process that they truly want to talk to you, or that they are actually addressing you . This is hard to explain but if anyone feels the same way it would be very helpful to hear.

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My screwed mind - GID and DID by omeganashik on Thu Sep 19, 2013 9:25 pm
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.

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I need help helping my depressed boyfriend!! by kendoll17 on Thu Dec 06, 2012 11:40 pm
So My boyfriend and I have been together a little over 2 years. We are both 20 years old. Up until a few months ago he was perfect fun and outgoing. He practically bowed down and kissed my feet and did anything for me. i dont mean to sound concieted, but thats how it was! Semi-recently he has changed. It started when we moved into the city in a house with 3 other gays. He just became more stand-off ish, and didnt want to cuddle or spend too much time with me. I ignored it thinking it was coming from stress about money and such, but it got worse. He eventually seemed like he was only happy when he wasnt with me. Rarely had sex or kissed me or even acted like i was around. This all was very hard for me, but i love him so i stuck around. Everything i did or said could make him mad and start a fight. This made me try harder to be sweet and cute with him and he didnt want any part of that. About two months ago he broke up with me saying he hates the house and the housemates and he just wasnt happy, but we talked and i told him if he really doesnt want to be with me then he could go and id be okay, but i didnt want him to do that without being 100% SURE. so we ended up working it out and he did it again two days later and the same thing happened. Then a month or so went by and he told me he wasnt happy, and he didnt know why. he recognizes that he has a career and a boyfriend who loves him more than anything and he loves me the same. I told him that he needed to leave because i couldnt emotionally handle it anymore. He got a room somewhere else and still isnt happy and we are seeing each other and taking it day by day. Today he told me he hates his life and has nobody but me. I love him and want to help but i dont know how. His father disowned him 2 years ago when he told him he was gay and they used to be really close and now he doesnt see or talk to him at all. His mother isnt there for him either. He feels alone and miserable and i try to tell him to keep his head up. He needs help, i know but is there anything i should be doing? can someone help me understand becasue i take it personally when i know that i shouldnt...He lashes out at me over stupid things then later tells me hes sorry and that he wishes id just leave because he treates me like $#%^ but he says he loves me so much and doesnt understand why i put up with it...i just dont know what to do! id love to talk to someone maybe on the phone?

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Who or what am I? by caramellacrisby on Wed Jan 23, 2013 2:15 pm
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...

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The devil still lurks, so why not raise my meth dose?? by bookofwildthoughts on Tue Feb 21, 2012 6:14 pm
So 2 weeks have gone by already. The 12 induction days are now over, what a relief ! I can still remember how I was living this, how days went by so slowly, with those 2 ‘girls’, those 2 bi*ches ‘rendering ‘ my life hell. Today, while we were on our meth doctor’s rendez-vous or consultation, one of my ex-induction friends (i accept to employ the word ‘friend’ here, how kind of me!) was talking over to me and that conversation TOOK ME BACK TO THE DAYS! Yes, back to the 12 induction days when we were all together, ha! To cut this story short (since I’m not writing about this today, some other day maybe…), I’m just glad I made it out! I imagined two more days with these animals in that cacophonic jukebox, that cacophonic cage, and I would have hung myself out dry, shyiiit. Believe it or not, I even made a rope out of my blanket, ready to be used… “Anytime!” I mumbled, without even shedding a tear, not even afraid of dying, well it was just for a few minutes, since that feeling quickly got out of me.

So today, when I went over to my meth doctor on consultation, the latter asked me if all’s well, if I didn’t get any side effects from my methadone or if I encountered any craving during my first week out and if I’m happy with my current meth dose. Well I told him the truth, nothing but the plain truth: every morning, I would wake up with my yawnings and running nose well, not as much as the time when I was addicted to heroin like back in the days LOL, but I’m not supposed to get any of this, not even an inch of all this ! My body was not on top mode, which is true as compared to the days when I was on induction. Even if I didn’t sleep at that time, my bosy was not as torn as it is now; we had less physical activities, less thinking to do and most of all, no stress at all, no phone ringing, no email to check, no meeting, nothing! As on my current life situation, when all’s back on other than the heroin cravings gone, I would have to, for instance, assist my parents in cleaning their yards, yes yards with an ‘s’. The truth? Well, I prefer to stay at work premises rather than spend a day home when my parents are at home as well since there would always be somewhere to go, something to do, no rest at all. And the days where we have nothing to do (meaning no cleaning or house chores), well, we would spend the days at the beach swimming and running on the beach. And I’d be all cranked up the next day at work, body all messed up, cramps, etc…

So I told all this to my meth doc and the latter just thought that was gibberish, from what I could conclude. The first thing he would mention was that I didn’t do as much physical efforts in an office, forgetting the fact that office is a part of my life. He said he would raise my daily meth dose but the question remains, since he didn’t write anything in front of me, and that’s quite discouraging.

Because then, the devil would lurk around me and maybe at a later stage, push me back on the streets who knows?? I know very well that a higher meth dose (maybe a 5ml raise might do to start with) is not recommended. Is it not better to be on a relatively higher meth dose than to hit back the streets ?

Think about it !

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