u/Hour-Philosopher-723

I have been wondering about this. Does it feel similar to stabbing into a large, bone-in piece of meat, or different?

I do not think that there is any harm in this, but I guess that it is sort of strange. When I meet a person for a short amount of time, and I enjoyed their company, I always thank them, whether they did something for me or not. If I can't think of anything to thank them for, I say "thank you for being alive," or "thank you for being here" (or just "thank you," but sometimes I have to add more to it). I don't really notice when I am doing this, but my friends think that it is silly.

I apologize in advance if this is unclear. I have had a compulsion lately to retype entire phrases or sentences if I mistype, so I tend to lose track.

I have unfortunately had this experience with both of my parents. My father molested me from the time that I was two (I think) to eleven years old. Nobody in my family believes me about this; I think, especially in the case of my immediate family, that they just cannot fathom the idea that my father could inflict worse abuse than what they already knew of and experienced; however, they have downplayed many of my experiences before, so it is hard to tell now.

The incident with my mother happened more recently, some time last year. Unlike with my dad, when I was very young, I recognized that something was wrong right away. I had just turned twenty-one, and was having my first drink with my mother. She became inebriated, and went on a long spiel about how I am just like my father in looks and behavior (which was somewhat offensive to me, because I am afraid of becoming him, but I didn't say anything as to avoid hurting her feelings). She started feeling me up, and tried to kiss me, and I really would not like to say more than that.

I think that this incident with my mother, along with the way that she treated the incident with my father, has led me to become very easily frustrated with her. I feel badly about it, because she is the one who keeps a roof over my head (I am a worthless "human" adult without a job). I wish that I could be more tolerant, but I was hurt by her, and I am honestly unsure if I love her anymore. I don't really feel anything towards her at all.

EDIT: I realized that this specific instance may not be considered molestation, because there was no true sex. I'm not sure. Sorry if this is insensitive.

I feel like this is a somewhat uncommon problem to deal with, but I will try to be as clear as I can... I hope that this doesn't come off as a self-hate post, I really don't consider this a part of "myself" in any way.

I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Schizophrenia, and Tourette Syndrome; this means that I have to do a lot of things that I do not want to do, to varying degrees. Sometimes, it's something as small as opening and closing a door for a while, other times it is saying something horrible to a friend.

When I don't do these things, I feel this overwhelming sense of dread; my sister told me, when I was a kid, to visualize my mental illness as something tangible, something separate from myself. It was said in good faith, but it has made my situation so much worse. Now, I need to act on my compulsions in order to keep this "thing" sustained, I guess. I feel that I'm following a script. I hate it, and am scared of it. I feel afraid just writing this.

The schizophrenia ties into this, too. I'm prone to delusions and auditory hallucinations, and what I fear will happen if I don't act on my compulsions manifests in them. If I don't do something I'm "told" to, someone might die. My family might fall apart further than it already has, I might not ever be happy. It's like a constant threat hanging over my head, and I really wish that I could just act in my own way again. I worry about meeting new people, because they might just assume that I am just "like this," when I'm really not.

Tourette's is likely the most obvious culprit for my lack of bodily autonomy and ownership. In the most literal sense, I can't control these movements. I end up knocking on the wall until it hurts, and sometimes, it will extend to movements toward other people. I've hit my friends before, because of these tics. It's painful, it makes my body tired. I can't think or see.

Does anyone else suffer in this way? It's so isolating. I kind of hope that I'm not the only one, just for the sake of not feeling so lonely in this.

I live with the belief that I will not exist to see the next day. Maybe I only began existing today (on any given "today," whenever that is), and my memories are false, implanted into my mind, or maybe I have been living in some work of fiction; either way, it can't last forever, and will end at some point... in my mind, it is always "tomorrow."

Because of this, I can't really form much of a connection to anything around me. I don't keep much around, and what little I do have, I am constantly trying to give away to everyone else, because I believe that I will be gone the next day (they will be too, if I'm correct in assuming that none of this is real, but the people around me really seem to get more enjoyment out of possessions than I do). Last year, I gave away most of my clothes, because I was convinced I'd reached the end of the line (many major health scares last year, I felt I had "pushed a button" in some way, and that it was my fault). It didn't end at that time, I was sent to a psychiatric hospital for several weeks, and as you can see, I'm still "alive" and writing this.

Regardless of whether or not I truly exist, I want to believe that I do (one day), because I really do want to be able to enjoy things. I want to be able to buy something special for myself, and just have it be mine. I want to be able to go out without believing that, by the next day, I won't even be able to look back on it, because I'll be written out of whatever narrative I am currently a part of (is it even my own?). I want to think and act freely. I am just so deeply sick that I don't know when, or if, that will ever happen.

I hope that this doesn't break any rules; I read them over several times and saw nothing against this sort of topic, so I hope that it is fine.

I'm just in search of films with realistic depictions of suicide and/or suicidal ideation, especially by the main character. Fiction, preferably (not a documentary or biopic); it does not have to be an entirely poignant/serious film. Thank you for any suggestions.

I recently realized how close my friend and I are. I think that we are best friends, and it has been a long time since I have had a best friend in a true, healthy way. I'm worried that I will fall in love with them.

Last night, we fell asleep during a phone call, after they called me because they were going through something (something on which they didn't elaborate, so I did not pry). It was the first time I had ever slept during a call with someone; I feel very vulnerable when I go to sleep, and I have only ever trusted one other person enough to sleep in their company. It felt very personal, even though it was just over the phone (and given the fact that I have already stayed over at their house once).

We have talked before about being best friends, but as I have fairly recently (last year) moved on from what was a very unhealthy, ten-years-long "best friendship," I was not really sure what "best friendship" meant anymore, until a few days ago. I really do think that we're best friends, and I am very happy for that. We have been on the phone all the time recently.

My problem arises from the fact that I recently, as of a few months ago, realized that I am capable of romantic love and relationships. I’m not really too sure what set this off, but when I realized it, I cried every night for about a month because I couldn't wrap my head around the new feeling. I am still grappling with it (I’ve been trying to do a bit of research, but most material on romantic affection isn't very easily digestible to someone who is so new to it), and it has sort of caused me to begin questioning what exactly I feel about the people around me. If people treat me well, will I develop a crush? If I am close with someone, will I fall in love? I have never had a crush or fallen in love before, so this is a bit scary.

I really like being around my best friend. We agree on almost anything, and when we don't, we never argue beyond a silly squabble. I want to be around them all the time, and they seem to want the same. We are even alike in some of the smallest, most mundane ways, and I smile whenever I think of them.

I really don't want to fall in love with them, because they kind of have a boyfriend (they don't call him their boyfriend, but they have stated that he basically is, as they have been seeing each other consistently for about six months now), and I don't want to take away from that; I also feel that I would be very “clumsy” in my first romantic experience, and I don't really want to put them through that, if I ever were to fall in love with them.

I think I may be in love with them, just in some platonic way. I can't imagine us ever kissing, or getting married, nor do I particularly want those things, but I can't help but question what it is that I am actually feeling (it's very hard for me to identify my emotions and feelings on things). So, is there any way to tell for sure if you are in love with someone, or if you just like them a lot? Thanks in advance for any answers.

I am using the emotional advice flair, because this is a neurologically-based problem (though I am not at all asking for medical advice), and there was no other flair that seemed applicable.

I have a problem which has been increasing in intensity for some years now. I become extremely confused, and I do not remember who I am, which I have a feeling stems from a childhood brain injury, though that story specifically is not very relevant to the problem itself.

I will forget who the people around me are, and, according to the people who notice it, I just stop speaking, and begin looking around like I am lost.

I am not sure how to explain this problem to the people in my life, as I am worried that they will realize that I am vulnerable in this state, and try to take advantage of me in some way. I am particularly worried about strangers, as this has happened around strangers, too. I have been in the middle of speaking to someone, and they said that I just sort of trailed off, and was essentially unresponsive for a minute or so. I was not sure how to explain myself, so I just said that I have a "thing," but they seemed very worried. I just have trouble trusting most people, and I am deeply afraid of being used or taken advantage of, so I am unsure of how to explain my problem. I also just find this very embarrassing, becasue it seems very unusual for my age (I am twenty two).

What would be the best course of action here? Do I just stay at home?

This is a genuine question, so I'm sorry if I am coming off strangely. I was checking my profile today, and realized that I have three followers. Are these followers notified of what I do and post? I mainly just talk about my life here, so I genuinely just do not understand why someone would want to keep an eye on that or keep up to date with my goings-on.

I would assume that a person would follow someone who makes posts that they enjoy, because that's how it works on other platforms, but I don't think that much of what I talk about is very enjoyable to read, so I guess that I just do not get it. Thanks for any responses.

Additional warning for mention of CSAM, abuse, and mention of suicide. Sorry that this is so disorganized.

I am afraid that my dad has already ruined my life. If he has not, then he definitely could. My dad was incredibly abusive to everyone in my household, but I will say that I got the brunt of it, as I was the only one to talk back, and was seemingly his "favorite" before that. He isolated us for years, supposedly in the name of religion, and pulled my sister and I out of school. We did the "unschooling" thing (which is horrible in itself), and academically, I was never able to catch up. I never learned much beyond simple multiplication. We were brainwashed into believing everything he said, and hurt me in the worst ways.

He sexually abused me repeatedly, I think since before I entered preschool, in the name of supposed "love," he burnt me from cigarettes, always under the guise of it being an "accident." Once there were enough, I realized that he had been burning me in geometric patterns. He exposed me to brutal gore of both animals and humans, in order to keep me on a vegan diet and expose me to the dangers of the world, as I was not receptive to the verbal lessons he gave to my mother and sister. I became entirely desensitized to it, and had a severe gore addiction, I think from the ages of eight to seventeen. I still am often plagued by violent thoughts.

Eventually (around the age of ten, when my sister and I were sent back to school), I stopped believing what he was telling me. My father started making me fight him (he said if I wanted to grow up and be a man, I first "man up"), and all of his love and empathy for me was gone. I was ostracized from the rest of the household. In an attempt to find support elsewhere, I had been speaking with people online (mainly over Omegle, Skype and Kik, though some were at school), most of them much older than me, who wanted to "help" me. They told me that I was mature beyond my years, that they would get me out of my home. I ended up groomed and exploited, once again. I told them where I lived, sent them pictures. I believed them. I was so stupid.

Eventually, my dad found these pictures (I had one of his old phones at the time of taking them, which, unbeknownst to me, were still attached to his Google+ account) soon after my Mother and sister and I able to escape (he hit my mother, and I had to call the police on him, and he spent the night in jail. My sister and I had had bags packed for this occasion, for months). When I was thirteen, I checked to see if my dad had social media, because I was sure that he would be spouting some insane bullshit. He was, but something caught my attention. Several of the pictures I had taken were posted on his account, and he was attempting to frame my mom for taking them. My mom had never made any advances toward me (until much later), and that is what I told to CPS when an investigation was put in place.

Ultimately, my father suffered never suffered any consequences for this, aside getting his computer taken away. That is not where the pictures were, so he still has them. The posts never even got taken down. After I found out he was essentially facing no consequences, I called him, told him to end his life, and attempted to end my own. I do not know how many times I had tried this before, I never really counted, but it was the first time anyone had taken any action outside of making me drink liters of water to "wash the pills out." I was hospitalized for three weeks. I had been sent to psychiatric hospitals before, but this remains my longest stay. "Funnily" enough, my father was hospitalized around the same time, and we were both diagnosed with schizophrenia.

I am so afraid that, now that facial recognition software has gotten so advanced, future employers, schools, or even friends will find these pictures, and connect them back to me. I am just terrified that the pictures/screen shots from my other predators are posted somewhere, too. I am humiliated. I just want to disappear.

Looking for something similar in ABV percentage; I am partial to the Electric Lemonade flavor, and carbonated alcoholic bevferages in general. The corner store nearest to me has either stopped selling them or has run out of stock, so I want to find something else in the interim.

I have just been doing the good old vodka Red Bull or vodka with Sprite since they ran out, but I'm wondering if there are any other pre-made drinks that will get you wasted pretty fast. The closest thing I have found is shitty 20 ABV party wine, which, while it has a higher ABV percentage than Four Loko, wine always gives me a headache. This specific wine is also just generally vile, lol.

Any suggestions?

With the already-rising mainstream use of terms such as "delulu" or "schizo-posting," I think that it is very possible that this will escalate into an onslaught of people beginning to fake schizophrenia. I am unsure if this is already happening, as I do not really go on social media outside of this platform, but it really is alarming. I worry that these people will really stop at nothing to feel special and interesting.

Schizophrenia is already such a highly stigmatized and misunderstood disorder, and it is certainly not one that anyone should want to have, EVER, but things like these has not stopped these people before (see: the massive numbers of D.I.D. fakers). 

If this does become a common thing, I guess that a bright side of it might be that it will likely be easy to spot someone who is faking. Schizophrenia, I would imagine, would be a very hard thing to fake. It commonly causes those afflicted with it to self-isolate, as it becomes very difficult to trust themselves (if they are aware of their disorder at all) and others, and it is unlikely that many would want to speak publicly about it, much less flaunt it, as many of these fakers do.

This possibility is very concerning to me, and, should it happen, it will likely only bring greater stigmatization, rather than any actual acceptance or awareness. As it stands, many people do not seem to be very welcoming to those afflicted with schizophrenia, and I feel that an influx of fakers of this disorder will only cause an influx of hostility.

Genuinely, sorry if this is too angsty for the sub; I can post it elsewhere if need be.

When I was around preschool age (3–4), I brought upon myself a very bizarre accident. I left the vehicle before it stopped, I was pulled under the wheel, and was run over. My skull, clavicle, and a few ribs (I am unsure of how many, my family doesn't like when I ask about this), were broken, along with some mild brain hemorrhaging. I blame myself for this. Had I stayed in the vehicle like everyone else, this would not have happened.

I remember almost nothing before the age of ten, so much of the next paragraph is information I have gathered from my family over the years.

They said that, as soon as I woke up in the hospital, they could tell that I had changed. Flat affect, inexpressive, uninterested in almost everything. Over the next few years, my behavior became more alarming to them. I would lash out in sudden fits of rage, I would intentionally get into fights just to see if someone would hit me, I would run into traffic, I made odd, violent threats to almost anyone, as a "joke." Even though I do not do these things anymore, my family still seems fearful and cautious around me.

Last Summer, I had two TIAs. The second, I had to be taken to the hospital for. I was frightened then, but even more so when one of the numerous tests I had done came back. I have chronic encephalomalacia. Neither my frontal lobe, nor my amygdala will be able to develop beyond the state they were in at the time of the accident. It sucks.

My memory blackouts have been getting worse, and I've been getting bouts of confusion so bad that I forget where and who I am. I feel that, every time this happens, there is a distinct "before," and "after." The person I was before dies, and I am reincarnated into a version of myself who is even worse. I don't even know who "myself" is, or was.

I'm sorry. I never know if I really am, or if I just miss you, but I really do miss you. We were best friends. You were a part of some of my first memories. I don't know if I was a part of yours, but I know that we'll never share a memory again.

For months and months, I was worried that you were dead. I was worried that it was my fault. You hurt me in the worst way, and I let all of my frustrations loose in a fit of pain and anger. I hurt you back. I continued to try to regain your respect, but now, you want nothing to do with me. I am unsure if you are sorry. It stings.

I don't know whether I should love you or hate you. I don't know if I should feel anything at all. I don't know if I can. Still, you are all that I can think about, and I wonder if you think of me, too. I worry that, if it ever comes to my attention that you find someone else to love, I will get jealous. Or angry. I know that this is not a good thing.

I want to see you again, horribly, but at the same time, I don't know if it would be a good idea. We were not healthy people. Our relationship was close, but it was hurting me. I wonder if you feel the same way, looking back. You never complained to me. I miss you.

None of my other friends can fill the gap. None of them were as good as you. Maybe I am romanticizing the past, because I don't remember it well, but at least at the beginning, you were the only person who made me feel loved. Since I cut you off, I have only gotten worse. You always joked about how I would become an addict when I grew up, and now, I know that you were right. I don't know how you had such great foresight.

I loved you, I think. I still dream about seeing you again. I miss you.

Generally speaking, the frontal lobe develops at twenty five. I am twenty two, and I have chronic encephalomalacia (softening and loss of brain tissue) of the frontal lobe as a result of a childhood TBI. The growth of my amygdala is also stunted from the same incident.

My judgement is terrible, as is my empathy. I make horrible descisions, because I do not feel fear in the traditional sense. I don't understand the consequences of my actions, and I generally do not believe that I will die. This belief is reinforced by my survival of the brain injury, against all odds, as well as my many other brushes with death. I am unable to understand fundamental things like this.

I feel a weird sadness when I think about this. This is permanent, it is forever. I will never develop in the same way as my peers, and I envy them. Sometimes, it makes me very angry.

I had two TIAs last Summer, seemingly out of nowhere. I worry that this will continue. Because of my condition, I am also at a higher risk of developing dementia, which I dread. I am already dealing with constant bouts of deep confusion, to the point of forgetting where and who I am, and it is hard to imagine it getting much worse than this. But it likely will. This is something that does scare me.

I wish that I am not alone, but it often feels like I am. I don't know anyone with this sort of condition around my age. Where you are not fully incapacitated by your brain injury, just seemingly doomed to failure. I do not know who to talk to about this, outside of my neurologist, who I only see twice a year. Nobody seems to understand it. Most people seem to be frightened (or, something like that) when I talk about my accident, they just stare at me. Even my therapist. I wish that it was normal to joke about it, but people seem to like that even less. I like to joke about it.

It just doesn't feel very good to know that I am stuck this way. Chronic encephalomalacia does not just "stop." There is no cure, there is no way out. I hate it.

I wouldn't say I'm necessarily a masochist. I am unsure if I would enjoy pain in a sexual context, because I have never had sex, nor have I really thought about this in a sexual way. However, I do enjoy pain in general.

I am very much an adrenaline junkie. When I was younger, I used to intentionally provoke people in an attempt to get them mad enough at me that they'd hit me. Now, I just outright ask for it, cutting out the provocation bit and getting straight to the meat and potatoes. A couple of weeks ago, I was in a sex shop with a few friends, I saw a large paddle, and naturally, I asked them to hit me with it with full force. They did, it was fun.

Is anyone else like this? I feel like it isn't very common, which is a bit lonely.

I have never felt human, ever since the beginning of my memories (around six years old, 2010). According to my family, I have also exhibited animal behaviors before then, as well.

Rather than feeling human, I feel much more like an animal who has been placed into human society against their will. This human society that I am stuck in feels foreign and unwelcoming, and so I have grown to detest many things about it. I am not happy being human.

I feel like, in some past life, I must have been an animal. Maybe in the life before this one. I imagine that I was a cat. I hope that when I die, I will either live another life as a cat, or a human unburdened by mental illness, poverty, and social ineptitude. Either would mean "happiness."

Does anybody else feel this way? I hope that I am not alone.

Any time I drink alcohol, I get pains in my neck, shoulders, and upper back. I think it's probably related to the fact that I have chronic pain to begin with, but it's a bit weird that it happens EVERY time, no matter what time of day I'm drinking. My drinks are just accompanied by the smell of IcyHot now, lol.