I am Hartlepool_lad, I have tried to type my experience on the blog about seven or eight times but each time I have erased it, the abusive voice in my head yells at me that no one is interested in my story and that I am alone, pathetic and other words that have been planted in my mind which I don't wish to reveal at the moment.

My systematic mental and physical destruction was to start almost immediately, I couldn't call or meet friends I had to explain where I'd been why I'd had to go there and what I had been doing while there and who had I spoken to, my phone and internet were checked as were my texts and e-mails. Bank account details were demanded and checked almost daily and a reason had to be forthcoming if I had withdrawn money, receipts were checked if I had paid for anything with my card, I was cut off from contacting family as she would put it “this is the only family that matters to you now” this was being constantly shored up with abuse of the type that I was crap at what I do, a useless person and painful insults that I can only shudder at now, I was verbally abused everyday, physically abused every day, I have been beaten, punched, kicked, humiliated, stabbed, had buckets of hot bleach thrown over me her aggression hightened if the house wasn't clean enough the dish washer hadn't been emptied or the ironing hadn't been done exactly how she wanted, constant accusations of infidelity, squandering money, being a useless person.

Then the torture of previous relationships started, I was given full and frank details of all the one night stands she'd had, I was informed by an ex friend of hers that she'd had threesomes and multiple encounters in one weekend.

She would regale me with the sordid details of these encounters and once estimated she'd had in excess of two hundred that she could remember and not counting the drunken one night stands she couldn't, all the while telling me that I was worthless, useless, a crap person etc.

It all came to a head in September 2005 when after months and years of such brutal torment the stress levels had reached such levels that my brain shut down for three days, I didn't know who I was, anything about myself, what I did for a job, my past anything.

I was diagnosed with P.T.S.D. Dissociative Amnesia, severe depression, social phobia and I have lost everything, my memories of my life are just shadows, the event is, as always right at the front of my eyes, she still haunts my mind and still continues to influence me inside my head, I have no respite.

Hartlepool_lad.

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.

I've recently been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder(Depressive type) after 3 years of hell. Its hit me hard as i always thought things would turn out better , if you get me. Ive had bad days alot. And some good days. Im on medication , abilfy 15mg , fluxotine 30mg a day and i feel that it just works for a bit then stops. In the past i had taken seroquel which didnt work at all and risperidone which did work but i had bad side effects and had to change drug. Its doing my head in. I just want to get better ! I wish there was a mircle drug or something , something that would take the voices away. The voices are loud and agressive, they tell me to do things that i shouldnt do. Things got so bad i was admitted to a mental health unit for 3 months. I was in a safe place but i got no help with coping and my medication was removed in the process which added insult to injury.

I feel very alone as i have no one to talk to who has the same diagnoses as me, understands me, or understands what i am going through.
I would like to be able to use this forum to meet people who are similarly affected and able to understand and offer support as id like to do the same.

Rightio, guys! Welcome to my world! It's great in here, albeit the landscapes may appear a little cerebral and neurotic sometimes. I lead the fine young life of an Irish student. Yes, student life is... well, chaotic. Effective organisation is always precluded by the necessities of student life (i.e. sleeping erratic hours, inconsistently meeting inconsistent deadlines, and an all-round simultaneous lack of planning and spontaneity). I am doing what I love (that's binge-reading on metaphysics and critical theory and writing highfalutin essays on it all), and even if it doesn't make me happy, that's okay, because I'm doing the right thing with my life right now. Clarity helps.

Happiness (whatever it is) is a thoroughly overused term these days. Why on earth should I be happy just because I have everything and my life is pretty darn good?! 'Erm... perhaps because you have everything and your life is pretty darn good...?' This is called circular reasoning, a logical fallacy. In fact, the entire pursuit of happiness in itself is both illogical and pointless. For a fact, nothing makes me happy. Ought I be stricken now by an avalanche of guilt? Not really. It's okay to feel whatever you feel and it is absolutely ridiculous to feel what someone else (or society, in fact) tells you to feel, because that's even more absurd that not feeling good, when life's good. In fact, the pursuit of happiness makes people depressed, because it's cheating logic and breaking down the faculties we rely on to make clear distinctions between things!

I like my life. I don't like my depression. I live life with depression. I do not live a depressed life. When I am really depressed I am not living my life, but this has nothing to do with my life and everything to do with my depression. It is important when I am very depressed to never wish my depression to end, because this would mean ending my life. And I like my life. It is much more likable than my depression. It only makes sense to say, then, that I like my life more than I can ever dislike my depression, because depression requires life in order to exist and wishing my life to end because it will end my depression is completely absurd, because it denies the origin of depression, which is not life, but absurdity. Yes, depression is absurd, but life is not and in order to affirm what is true and meaningful (i.e. the fact that depression is absurd) we must affirm life.

Of course, it may appear to be problematic when philosophers say that life is absurd and melancholia is a natural reaction to the absurdity of life. This may be true (and if it is it becomes difficult to distinguish depression from life), but even these philosophers find a way of affirming life, even if only in spite. For Camus, absurdity must be affirmed because our lucidity is the basis of all that we have. According to him, we must continue to push the boulder up the hill knowing it will fall back down, because acknowledging the pointlessness of this task liberates us to accept it. For Kierkegaard, it is defiance: rejection of help or escape which gives us strength to be our own and endure. For Nietzsche, life, suffering and all the tragedy in the world must be relished in order to rise above the adversity of slavery and become masters of ourselves through strength and creativity.

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.