var title = 'Psychology and Mental Health Forum Psychology Feed';
		var url = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/random_blogs_c-3.html';
		var site_url = 'https://www.psychforums.com';
		var site_desc = 'Psychology and Mental Health Forum';
		var time = 'Wed, 17 Sep 2025 05:54:58 -0400';

		var data = new Array();
		

		data[0] = new Array();
		data[0]['title'] = 'Wanting to Die.';
		data[0]['url'] = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/wanting_to_die._c-3_u-258910_b-7009.html';
		data[0]['url'] = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/wanting_to_die._c-3_u-258910_b-7009.html';
		data[0]['username'] = 'shortsnorts';
		data[0]['blog_id'] = '7009';
		data[0]['blog_message'] = 'I am so tired of complete #######4. I don't see the point of anything anymore.';
		data[0]['blog_time'] = 'Fri, 30 May 2014 17:57:01 -0400';
		

		data[1] = new Array();
		data[1]['title'] = 'Help me I have a poo phobia';
		data[1]['url'] = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/help_me_i_have_a_poo_phobia_c-3_u-259133_b-6895.html';
		data[1]['url'] = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/help_me_i_have_a_poo_phobia_c-3_u-259133_b-6895.html';
		data[1]['username'] = 'Simple life';
		data[1]['blog_id'] = '6895';
		data[1]['blog_message'] = 'I have a poo phobia ! Help?<br />It&#039;s been going on for months now nearly a year, everytime I go out I feel like I&#039;m going to poo my pants, I start panicking and just go straight home! But once I&#039;m home I&#039;m fine and don&#039;t need the toilet, also when I&#039;m out my belly starts to hurt like I&#039;m going to have  diarrhoea   but I don&#039;t. It&#039;s ruining my life! I never go out because of this!  I don&#039;t like to travel for long or stay out long incase I do poo my pants help!';
		data[1]['blog_time'] = 'Sun, 11 May 2014 22:26:17 -0400';
		

		data[2] = new Array();
		data[2]['title'] = 'Do I have ADD?';
		data[2]['url'] = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/do_i_have_add%CA%94_c-3_u-177942_b-4553.html';
		data[2]['url'] = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/do_i_have_add%CA%94_c-3_u-177942_b-4553.html';
		data[2]['username'] = 'ADDGuy';
		data[2]['blog_id'] = '4553';
		data[2]['blog_message'] = 'Hello, I am 26 yrs old. This is first entry on this forum and i also don write much so pls pardon my writing skills. Just to give a brief about myself i am a graduate (Bachelor in Engg) and currently working as a senior software engg in a tech startup. so coming to the topic it all started with me getting in to college as then only that weird feeling creeped of how different i was from others. Though i have been getting careless/ irresponsible/clumsy tags throughout my childhood from parents/teachers and how i was not living upto my potential but i used discard all remarks and didnt give much importance. but during my college time i realized that i was so inferior  to other people in the sense that   i dint have any purpose, always being confused, unaware , missing out on important deadlines, and most importantly lacking in social skills which totally destroyed my self esteem as i have never been able to build relationships and i deliberately cut contact with very few friends that i was able to make as they though supportive sometimes used to treat me like i was a kid and cudnt take care of myself. same is the case in my job. I am always missing on important points, deadlines , lost in calls, disrupting my manager in between and always missing the big picture which is hugely affecting my performance. i have consulted a reputed psychiatrist but he doesnt think i have ADD as he feels that i am too intelligent for that. but i think that ADD and intelligence are two diff things and can coexist. so i am a bit confused as to what should i do and what are the medical options (if at all they are) i should consider .. Please help????';
		data[2]['blog_time'] = 'Sat, 20 Apr 2013 07:20:29 -0400';
		

		data[3] = new Array();
		data[3]['title'] = 'stepmother desire';
		data[3]['url'] = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/stepmother_desire_c-3_u-259763_b-6972.html';
		data[3]['url'] = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/stepmother_desire_c-3_u-259763_b-6972.html';
		data[3]['username'] = 'anonymoussname';
		data[3]['blog_id'] = '6972';
		data[3]['blog_message'] = 'Ok, so I&#039;m pretty sure there is something wrong with me. I have had this feeling toward my stepmother since I could remember. Like a desire. I know it&#039;s wrong, it&#039;s not right because she is married to my father and she is my stepmother. My father cheated on her and I just wanted to tell her so bad how I felt about her, and how much she deserved better but they got back together. My father married her without telling her he had a vasectomy. And all these years later she really wants a kid, I wish I could help her have a kid... <br />   I am 21 years old, and I moved back into their house about a year ago because my roommate moved out of state and left the bills all on me. I go into their room sometimes when they go to work and I smell her freshly worn panties, and masturbate to them. I found a box of her toys(dildos) and I masturbated to them and licked them. I also found their sex tape and watched it so I could see what she looks like naked. Sometimes when my dad leaves to go to work, I hear her getting into the shower and I fantasize going in there and joining her, or going into the room and waiting on her to get out. <br />   I have control enough to never do anything to crazy, but what should I do? Should I just get help, or tell her what I have done/ how I feel, or nothing? Please don&#039;t comment how sick I am, and how I need to find god.. I know I am sick, I just can&#039;t control myself sometimes.';
		data[3]['blog_time'] = 'Fri, 23 May 2014 00:56:22 -0400';
		

		data[4] = new Array();
		data[4]['title'] = 'Ending Silence';
		data[4]['url'] = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/ending_silence_c-3_u-141015_b-4200.html';
		data[4]['url'] = 'https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/ending_silence_c-3_u-141015_b-4200.html';
		data[4]['username'] = 'maat888';
		data[4]['blog_id'] = '4200';
		data[4]['blog_message'] = '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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 ...<br /> <br /> <a href="https://www.psychforums.com/blog/Psychology/ending_silence_c-3_u-141015_b-4200.html" class="postlink-local">[ Continued ]</a>';
		data[4]['blog_time'] = 'Sun, 17 Feb 2013 02:40:09 -0500';