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Hey everyone. This is my first post. So, I have OCD and anxiety and am currently seeing a psychiatrist and am taking 200 MG Zoloft. I have a girlfriend. Here is where things get messy. I always feel the need to confess anything to her. My weird or disturbing thoughts, or things I've done in the past. For example, when we were broken up, for some reason the thought of her having sex with someone else or even getting raped turned me on. In reality if I ever saw her getting raped I would die before I let it continue, but, the thought aroused me for some god only knows reason. I guess it it my intrusive thoughts? I feel horrible when I think back at thinking about certain things like that and need to talk to her about these things. I told her about that and she was at first freaked and upset but then I think realized it was just my OCD. Also, I always feel I need to confess anything I think or do or have done that she wouldn't like. Another example, when we were broken up I looked on Craigslist in search of a casual encounter but I'm 20 and just horny but I didn't act or meet up with anyone although I did respond to and talk to a few girls. But this was when I was single. Anyway if you actually real this, please, please help me. I feel like I'm a horrible person even though I love her so much and would never hurt her or let anyone come close to hurting her ever. I would die for her.

Found a great quote recently, from the Megadeth song "Peace sells, so who's Buying?".
It goes:

"Whadda you mean I'm not kind? I'm just not your kind"

I guess that explains the alienation that I currently feel and also the same feeling that I struggle terribly to emote. I tried my very best to fit into other peoples lives. I altered mine and changed because all I wanted was to feel normal.

The irony of the last statement is not lost on me. the irony grabs me and will not let go. It makes sense you see. I have always denied the existence or anything "normal". I treated it as mundane and therefore worthless.

When I had a tough time at school and was called many, many names I took the word geek as a badge of honour. My intelligence that set me above others. If they were not on my level I looked down on them. If I wasn't normal then so be it. What the hell was normal anyway? I don't wish harm on people that cannot keep up with me yet I remember treating people who could not keep up with me with distain and disgust.

Best example was my boss at work, who I treated like garbage, I was the worst sort of intellectual snob and she was not worthy to even be in a room with me. Not once did I break any rule when it came to dealing with her. On the other hand I too a lot of pleasure in seeing her suffer. One day I pushed so hard that she burst into tears. The horrible elitist part of me wanted to push harder to break her, thankfully I just withdrew from the conversation and watched with cold and calculating emotion as she broke down. I didn't feel pride or anything else for that matter, I just felt numb. That was three months before I was diagnosed with Bipolar II, I guess at that point I knew there was something very wrong with me. It's also when I started to self harm for the first time in years. The funny thing is I remember most of that clear as day and yet most of the past year is very hazy for me.

Flash forward to Saturday past. My wife was drinking and having fun, my son was playing with the other kids at the hog roast/barn dance. People would say hello to me and I found it difficult to talk to them, not because they were horrible but because I felt no connection to these people. Many of them asked me why I wasn't drinking, too many actually. It made me feel even more alienated. My wife joined in the dancing and all I could do was stand and stare into space. The same coldness I felt that day at work washed over me.

I fear that one day that coldness will become depression and that it will spiral out of control, leading me deeper into the pits of despair. Right now it's cold where I am, right now thats all I feel.

I don't know if thats right or wrong.

There is a lot of pressure on victims to confront their abusers in some way. However in the grand scheme of things we as a people need to know where to allocate resources and what type of resources.
Simply having more data on the type of assault crimes in which ruff location can be enough to better alert the communities of problems quicker and manage dealing with sexual assault better.
Also it could help track down abusers even without names and to prosecute regarding a truly hanus crime should not require confrontation with the victim.

Well, I've been working on my class work like a mad woman today. Wrote a term paper in two hours, posted discussion board postings, worked on some other class stuff... pretty productive. For some reason I re-look at one of my teachers' course instructions and find out I need to be posting on the discussion boards by Wednesdays. Had to go back through all my posts and figure out which ones I busted the timeline on. Only one...thank goodness. But this little, very minor bobble sent me into this mental mudslide. This week's topics have been challenging and I'm feeling down.

Feel stupid, actually. Wonder what the hell I am doing wanting to be a Psychologist or diagnostician. Feel completely inadequate. Everyone tells me I am so smart, but do they REALLY realize how much time and effort I have to put into learning???? I feel so EFFIN stupid... like I'm a dumba$$ masquerading as a potentially intelligent person.

Know I'm being completely silly here. It hit me about 5 minutes ago that I'm about 4 days away from my "monthly gift." For god's sake... why the HELL do I have to endure this hormonally-induced bash-fest every damn month? Why do I have to get about an hour into hating myself, doubting myself and doubting everything before I realize it is hormones and then say "oh, yeah... here it comes."

Can someone please rip out my ovaries already? They've already proven to be the second most useless organs in my body... my appendix being the other. I'm childless, in my 40's and don't need these malfunctional useless organs in my body to eff with me every damn month.

Sigh.

Sorry for the pointless, down-beat rant. Just one of those days. One of those days that I have to endure every single month.

Shake out of it, Koshka!