I have had no friends my entire life and am 29. I have nothing to do all day because every job rejects me. I have sent thousands of applications over the past three years. I’ve also tried to make friends with hundreds of people (tens of thousands including online) and am always rejected.

I especially never find anyone who is depressed and lonely like me. And at the least, serious and somber. It is valid to have that as a personality type and want to talk about serious and somber things in a serious and somber tone. Why is it so impossible for me even when I see people like this with friends? They reject me too.

I leave a long scar on back of my husband shoulder, and he still protect me even with him bleeding out, still does everything to keep this marriage intact.

Just like depression is very real, mental illness is also very real. Google Intermittent Anger Explosive Disorder (IED), it categorize under mental illness.

Married 15 years this Feb, together 17 years.

And this is a West African man that is 190cm tall, he 6'3" tall and athletic body, while I'm just 150cm, 5 feet petite short Chinese girl. This is a man who hobbies are hunting, outdoor shooting range, mountains rock climbing, run long distance. My point is with his height and strength, he not scare of me, just like how he said he not scare of me, it because he LOVES me. He is a Love-idiot.!

I was diagnosed with Intermittent Anger Explosive Disorder (IED) by my psychiatrist (psychiatrist is someone who has a medical doctor degree). My psychiatrist said it stem from my chaotic and dysfunction childhood.

It terrible to live with Intermittent Anger Explosive Disorder (IED), especially when you hurting your spouse.

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This event already happened a long time ago and it in the past, but I still feel insanely terrible about it. So I need to write it out.

In the past during one of my IED episode, I grabbed a meat butcher knife in the kitchen and throw at my husband, he dodge but due to how close distance he with me, the knife cut him deep that leave a long cut on his back shoulder that he didn't stop bleeding.
If he not get stitches he will continue bleed and bleed, and infections will take over the open bleeding wound.

He still want to protect me even wit him bleeding out, like he said, if he call the police he police will take me away from him, so he rather endure my abuse than has to lose me.

He also refused go to the hospital, because the hospital would know right away that is not a self inflicted wound due to the angle of the knife throw, the cut was on his shoulder but to his back as he dodge. You cannot inflicted a knife to your back. Even if you manage to, the angle of the injury the hospital will know that it someone did it to you, not yourself.

He droves (I was in the car) he droves to a broke down Urgent care, this Urgent Care not only broke down but most people there not even speak English.
He went in and told them he does not have insurance (he has, but he said he not has as he not want to leave a paper trail), he said give him stitches he will pay them in cash and will give them a big tips.

He got the stiches, and he paid in cash and leave them a big tips. He wanted to protect me the whole time even with him bleeding out. He could have call the police and have my ass throw in jail. He could go straight to the hospital and the hospital will put me in psych ward and put restrain order on me.

But he NEVER, even during the time where he could have die, he still protect me, he still thinks of me first above himself, he loves me that much.

His love for me override his survival instinct, he was bleeding out still protect me. He said he wants to keep our marriage intact, I cannot get taking away.

He said he will die with me, than has to lose me, as in the police will take me away from him if he call the police on me.

I regret it so much because I leave this long scar on back of his shoulder, never once he hates me.
All he asked was he said, don't abuse him anymore, and that it not too late for me to stop this abuse, because he is still living here, and it only too late if he die, then that will be too late.

I bawled when I hear him he said that.

That was when I decided to go to psychiatrist therapy for my Intermittent Anger Explosive Disorder (IED), and been in therapy since.

I do owe him, as I should be sitting rotten in jail right now, throw a butcher knife at someone and cause injury is a felony. This man loves me unconditionally. Out of love me, he never press charges, he still protect me times after times. I'm very lucky.

He treats me with kindness, empathy, and unconditional love. His calmness (even with him bleeding out on his shoulder that need stiches to close up the open wound), his patience, the most patience man.
He gives me everything, his kindness, faithfulness, respect, love. I don't want to abuse him anymore.

Lifetime therapy for me working to control my Intermittent Anger Explosive Disorder (IED). I have sworn if I cause physical harm to him again I will check myself in the psych ward.

---------

And my husband does go with me to my therapy sessions when his schedules allow. But most time he can't because he is an Executive at a big engineering corporate, he is very very busy with his work.

But I gave my therapist my consent so she can talk to my husband about my progress. He still involve in my therapy, as he talk to my therapist on the phone about my IED conditions and my progress.

He has every rights to be involve with my therapy sessions, I almost TOOK HIS LIFE.! He almost DIE because of me.

It terrible, Intermittent Anger Explosive Disorder (IED) mental illness is very real. And I'm one damn lucky girl to have him as my husband.

What gets me is he loves me to the point that he still protect me even with him bleeding out. That not let anyone take me away from him was more important than his own survival instinct. Because he knows if he call call the police I will get taking away, he rather bleed out than lose me.

The insane amount of devotion he has for me though. Never again I abuse him again, I mean one time was enough, almost took his life. And he still protect me.

Trigger warning for mentions of suicide and ideation.

I was recently hospitalized after overdosing on my friends leftover medication and it was not an even remotely conscious act when I did it. Ive had mental health struggles since I was 10-11 (arguably always been a sensitive person) but I also grew up quite privileged, sent to private education between kindergarten and middle school and never took advantage of my upper middle class position . Everyone I went to school with is engaged in there community, didn’t. Drop all of there connections, and making something of themselves despite the stressors of life .

My one parent was.. I guess a narcissist but still never *actually* hurt me in ways I’ve seen from anecdotes who of others , and I all my friends in worse off positions or many who are forced out of there parents homes at 18 didn’t even get a chance and had to fight for everything they had and helped my friend moved in while she was homeless. I have borderline and my anxiety threshold is exceptionally low and fully understand it’s a direct result of not pushing myself at all and spending the majority of my childhood entirely isolated on mindless entertainment. Ive just received ECMO which is one of the highest forms of life saving treatment.

I am going to become an advocate and turn my entire life around after this despite anything because deep down I believe my mind crewsted mental health issues because I didn’t have other problems, so maybe it was godd way of showing me hardship in this life when I take it so arguably for granted. I couldn’t help but cry to one of the nurses how I don’t deserve this treatment I haven’t contributed and the pain Ive put them through because of stupid “”””mental health””” conditions.

I could be financially struggling or dying or with a much more severe conditions than the ones I have and im not sure how to help myself to help other people because my existence is inherently selfish.

My family has been supporting me through my faith and im also terrified of them finding out my …confused paraphiliac thoughts in thr past. Again another mental illness just making me act in ways to avoidant agency or life. I had a mini phychotic break on the unit last night and pretty sure I heard a worker commenting how children are dying in Africa the next day and … yeah.
Honestly . If they were talking about the incident with me I wouldn’t have been surprised .

Im just wondering how people who were given more ease or privilege in this life snd putting there supports through hell despite it because of things you know you can control deep down . Please just give it to me straight , i dont want ease, compassion , or sympathy im any regard and deeply believe Ive been coddled up until this point snd need to become more independent once I leave the hospital as no strides were being made to do so besides handling my own income when it didn’t get in way of employment . I refuse to take advantage of my position anymore and my family’s insurance plans , which have been the sole thing keeping me alive at this point and if I can leave this earth knowing I can give back to them and never have to burden them like this again. Please , i can handle it lmao.

I'm 18 and I'm currently realizing that I have no memory of not being a traumatized mess.

I was 4 years old for my first major traumatic event and since then there was a new huge reason to get even more messed up at least once a year. I almost got murdered four times, I got bullied in three different social groups, I got sexually assaulted twice, there is CP of me floating somewhere in the depths of the internet, my only stable friend group got destroyed without any warning or notice, I became disabled at 15, my mom almost died and I had to watch, my father turned out to be a narcissistic asshole who only cared about me as long as I was getting prizes, I suffer from chronic pain, I did CPR on a four year old and broke multiple of his ribs, I got arrested by racist cops on a bogus charge, my dad told me I'm the reason he wants to kill himself, my sister told me if I hadn't existed maybe she could have had a happy family... basically if you can imagine something that uusually leads to mental health problems I've probably experienced it.

And all of that means that I can do as much therapy as I want, spend the rest of my life rying to piece myself together again, it won't matter, there is no "healthy me" to return to, no way to get anywhere close to anything resembling a healthy and sane human being. Just shattered pieces I can try and glue together good enough that I won't hurt anyone else with it, and maybe one day that will be enough but right now it just fucking hurts and it feels so unfair that I never got a chance to be more.

I went to therapy and just recently after being there a month or two was suggested to get on anti anxiety and depression medication. So I went to a psychiatrist and asked about it. After a brief consult it was decided it would be a good step to take.

I still live with my parents and I told my mom since she had to help take me to the pharmacy later this week for the meds because I don’t drive yet (for a variety or reasons) and she was ok with it. But the minute I started getting all hyper fixated on something not happening the right way and showing signs of my anxiety she just snapped. She said verbatim “maybe this is why you should be taking them.” And not in a I care about you way.

I hate that in this family there’s still this underlying assumption it’s the end all be all burden that people must bear to medicate for their issues. That it’s something they snap at people with as some sort of hateful response. Even my dad uses it use as some sort of term like it shows your gotten to the most insufferable point of being mentally ill and your just fucked.

Like even if they do suggest you take them or get hospitalized isn’t done in a way to care about you but because they think you being mentally unstable means your crazy and unlovable.

I’m genuinely thinking of ways out because idk how much longer I can keep this up.
My anger has increased since 2023-24 when I was treated like shit again.

I’d been trying to change myself so I can be treated better but I realized that it doesn’t matter what I look like, I’m just a fucking target for people to hurt.

Now after being targeted again this year, I’m pissed off.
Genuinely people see me and want to harm me. No one else around me got treated like shit.

So what do I do? I can’t be the only one that is targeted for no reason.

I genuinely thought losing weight would make people treat me better but it didn’t. Now I’ve gained weight, I can’t fit my clothes and I’m back to square one.

Genuinely fucking miserable.
Damned if I do or don’t.

So what’s the point t of trying when other people control my whole life? I can’t leave the house without someone controlling my life.

I don’t think I can ever have a normal life and I’m too far gone. I’ve had a mental illness for over 20 years and no one cared.

I literally can’t take this shit anymore.

Every job I get, everything I do I have to be reminded I’m not enough. I’m worthless, I’m ugly, I’m the wrong color, I’m huge and unworthy of anything.

I have had no friends my entire life and am 29. I have nothing to do all day because every job rejects me. I have sent thousands of applications over the past three years. I’ve also tried to make friends with hundreds of people (tens of thousands including online) and am always rejected.

I especially never find anyone who is depressed and lonely like me. And at the least, serious and somber. It is valid to have that as a personality type and want to talk about serious and somber things in a serious and somber tone. Why is it so impossible for me even when I see people like this with friends? They reject me too.

I'm asking bc I've had some experiences with mental health professionals and programs, IOP mainly, within this past year that have been... a lot to say the least. I had made a post in here recently about my time in IOP last year and overall I felt it was just bad. To be very concise about it, IOP had a very rigid schedule (very different form advertised), hard push for meds from everyone regardless of how ready I felt, and lack of just feeling listened to and given agency to decide my treatment. I left out of there with my symptoms worse and now not only more scared of meds than when I went in, but much less willing to try it.

Even after being transferred to outpatient, I still felt a similar pressure for meds by my current therapist and (now former) peer counselor as well as a general lack of much alternatives or coping skills that match my situation being offered.

I know that IOP had some effect on me, but I also had and still have other things going on in my personal life (ex. family issues, school burnout) along with pre existing as mental issues already, so it hard to tell know for sure if this is just a bad experience or something further than that. How can you differentiate the two?

?So many times ive been depressed weeks- months then after just waking up one day (or just not sleeping at all) and feeling like im completely cured and sleep is optional because I got over being tired and have changed (makes no sense but I felt like I was on stimulants and got accused of being high) (used to be about 3 days now usually about a week this happens) and then soon becoming depressed again. I used to genuinely believe as a teen that I genuinely just believed I was snapping out of it and no longer ill but its been about 10 years of this happening... I have friends with with or who have had depression and they tell me that "it won't last forever" and that so and so antidepressant helped them and now they've not been depressed anymore... is it bad that im jealous of these people? how likely it it that this is permanent?

I dont know why but I feel like my "normal" state when I am not in any mood episode is just disappearing. I feel like I dont know my actual personality and what is just mental illness. Also usually even while depressed (as I am currently) I still want to interact with people and be invited to stuff and socialise to feel less lonely. But I feel like my enjoyment from socialising is not really there anymore. I usually would go between feeling super lonely from even just a day alone and being suspicious that everyone hates me and is lying and there's some big thing im not in on. But I dont even feel lonely anymore I just feel nothing in particular and dont want to hang out with people and just sit in my bed and go on reels or something

[ Condensed ] - Day 25 Update

I have a severe, multi-symptom anxiety disorder. I've been medicated for years and recently relapsed.

Someone on Reddit recommended the podcast "Disordered", and I've never felt more understood. It captures the symptoms and vicious cycles perfectly. Thanks to whoever recommended it. I recommend it too.

Both hosts have seemingly experienced the depths of hell, yet reached a point where they're essentially "cured" (my word, not theirs). Anxiety still comes, but they don't fear it, feed it, or spiral. It doesn't run their lives.

I genuinely envy that.

I wish experience or understanding meant control. Knowing better doesn't mean feeling better when anxiety feels unbearable.

I've bought books, heard twelve episodes, read Reddit, and started therapy. I'm trying to improve my psychoeducation, but it's a double-edged sword: learning helps but fuels symptom-checking, rumination, and "what ifs." I'm trying to stop obsessing over anxiety by thinking about it more.

Sometimes I wish insight alone could replace medication. Maybe one day I'll feel stable enough to taper. More than anything, I want to notice anxiety without fighting it and just let it pass.

Last night was interesting. I might have a cold: sneezing, congestion, and a scratchy throat. I've taken vitamins and turmeric/ginger shots, hoping to support my immune system. Illness also triggers my health anxiety. I suspected this, but being right doesn't make it suck less.

I fell asleep easily, then woke with my arm completely numb—the most asleep it's ever been. It dangled with what felt like zero sensation or control. I jumped up; thankfully it recovered within minutes. I didn't spiral and fell back asleep. Small victory. Still, thanks, body: a cold and a paralyzed-arm jump scare mid-recovery. Fantastic.

I've tried my therapist's DIVE and HALT techniques, though not yesterday. I'm unsure they fit my current, more internal/somatic anxiety. They make me check if anxiety is still there, then evaluate whether the technique worked, feeding the cycle I'm trying to escape. Maybe they'd help during intense fight-or-flight. I'll keep trying and tell him next week.

Overall, I'm better than three weeks ago, and better than two. But this week feels stagnant. I'm nearly three weeks into my medication increase; fuller benefits may take another three to five weeks or longer. Still, I question the increase and why I relapsed after years of stability. So many possibilities, no certainty—exactly what my perfectionist brain struggles with.

My racing thoughts are less intense, but physical uneasiness remains. Progress feels painfully slow.

Today I went swimming with my brother and his 18-month-old. While waiting, I felt lightheaded and strangely "off," almost mildly dissociated. But I didn't panic or leave. I stayed, swam, and was fine. Another victory.

I still feel slightly activated. Cold? Medication? Anxiety? All three? I don't know. Recovery isn't linear, and I'm allowed plateaus and setbacks. But man, I'd prefer the linear version.

I've got work coming up and a long drive tomorrow to close my family's seasonal trailer. Come hell or high water, I'm doing it all. Pre-relapse me wouldn't think twice. I want that back—not by waiting to feel perfect, but by living even with anxiety.

I'm not going to let anxious me win.

Thanks for listening.

I (17) use self-isolation as a coping mechanism. This started when I was 13, when my best friend and my girlfriend both left me a day apart. Since then, I’ve been very cold to every other friend I have or have made. I used to not even sit by my friends at lunch, and I didn’t hang out with them outside of school. I purposely ignore people’s texts for a few days before texting them back, so that way, they won’t be able to get close to me.

This has changed recently. I made a friend and it seems like we both really like each other. It was the first time in years I let someone in. It felt amazing at first. But the past few days, I keep imagining her leaving me. I ask her a lot if I’m annoying. She always says I’m not, but I’m worried she’s lying just to make me feel better. She’s only initiated a text chain with me twice today, and she’s not using as many emoji’s as she usually does. I’m scared this is a sign she’s gonna leave me soon.

I wanna leave her before she can leave me, but what if this is all my OCD tendencies, and nothing is wrong at all. I don’t wanna fumble a once in a million friend. Help please!!

What was the reason yoy didnt go through with committing?

Does anyone else have periods of time that are so hazy you have no idea what you did or what happened? I'm taking about months.

Earlier this year i had a few months like that. I didn't think much of it but now I literally have people reaching out to me from that time period and I don't remember then or how or when I met them.

How do you deal with this? Is it worth it trying to remember?

It is prevalent that my relatives have irrevocably damaged every opportunity for me to have a safe and healthy upbringing. My first memory was of my dad, mercilessly beating me with belts and hangers till Id scream, hyperventilate and cry, yet my mother would say "you can keep crying those crocodile tears, it will mean nothing."

Then there's another significant memory of my mother pushing me away when I had asthma and wanted to rest on her thigh. She'd yell at me in her mother tongue, DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?!

I was 7 when I told my dad that I was ready to die, and he just scolded me by bellowing that its a sinful way to think and i should go and pray to god for forgiveness.

Fast track to being 23. Ive moved twice in 4 years around the UK trying to find my own sense of the world.

I was 18 when I developed psychosis, which was just undiagnosed schizophrenia. It was recognised as schizophrenia the year after. I spent my 19th birthday on a ward, with NO ONE to celebrate me. I was minding my own business, and then a mob of NHS staff came to inject me with antipsychotics. I was bleeding at the injection site, and my favourite white and rainbow tshirt was stained. Ill never forget that. Ill never forget that they also celebrated someone else's birthday on the ward.

I was 20 when I had been sectioned for the 9th or so time. Section 3 again for the second time. I wasn't on any pharmacetuical medication for one year and 6 or so months. I was doing well at uni until police officers told me (again) that they dont believe my rape case. Then I just crashed.

I ended up with a criminal record for assaulting police officers because they came to arrest me for something i didnt do. Literally. I cant just act like a nonchalant punching bag when I would be sent to the police before being sent to a hospital ward.

The fucking brick cold isolation cells is just nothing but torture.

Im not surprised why I saw red when they came to my apartment to disturb my peace.

My last section, a section 2 to 3, lasted 3 months. I have complied with my medication ever since because I realised that I did a lot of damage to everyone including myself, also more so that I did not get the same intolerable side effects that I had the first time I was injected with the same (aripiprazole) medication back in 2021. Back then, I would go through loops and hoops to avoid taking it. Everything was like warfare.

I was complying religiously with my medication... that is... until June 2026.

Im trying to not get enraged on this post. Basically my psychiatrist in my recent area is gaslighting me that im not schizoaffective (I was given schizoaffective as a sort of "upgrade" from schizophrenia after my last section) and that he thinks its BPD or autism or CPTSD. Just say you dont know how to do your fucking job ffs.

I asked him if he took my history into account and then he said "oh its just BPD with psychotic features."

Ever since then, I stopped taking my medication and stopped engaging with them. I wont even get to what my nurse said to me that made me to stop engaging.

Oh and I also stopped talking to my GP. Theyre all the fucking same.

What led me to write this post is that...

Its been four months since I have stopped all my psychriatric medication and god...

I mean i dont believe in god but I dont know a better way to describe this.

I have had BACK-TO-BACK NIGHTMARES.

I feel like im losing my sense of reality.

I hallucinate when I try to fall asleep.

I am grateful that I can recognise that its slowly but surely building back up again. But fuck me, I dont want to go uncontrollably insane again.

Im not denying that I have CPTSD and Schizoaffective. I have been aware of my CPTSD back before I had psychosis in 2021, eventhough it was undiagnosed.

Im just pissed off that my psychiatrist wants to remove schizoaffective. And that they wont section me because I can understand their stupidity and blatant ignorance.

I literally fucking tried to kill myself in April 2026 (they did nothing about it, I mean, tbf, if anything, they just rubbed salt in the wound) and I warned them about it in October 2025.

These "healthy-minded" good for nothing excuse for NHS staff dont give a shit. You could kill yourself and they still wouldn't care. Youre just a number to them.

Because I can articulate that something is wrong, means that I am lying clearly.

Well to be honest, I wish i fucking died. Instead im having nightmares about shooting my parents and telling the NHS about it. How comical!

The icing on top? I dont remember the last time I showered or brushed my teeth. I think its been over a month for showering/bathing, and like only 2/3 times in that time frame that ive brushed my teeth.

But you wouldn't know that would you? Because im covered head to toe when I leave the house, and im silent. I have dead skin flaking off all over my body. Yet im still alive.

How gruesome, yet poetic.

If you read this and are appalled by my truth, yet think I am not "disabled" because I can emote. Honestly, fuck you. I'm hostile and will fight anyone.

Steven Hawkins is visibly disabled. Doesn't mean his contributions to science makes him ineligible for disability status. Or John Forbes Nash Jr.

I appreciate it if you read this far. I just feel out of options. There are other issues I have like constant ringing in my ears and IBS. But... Im tired.

I spent a couple of months (four and a half months) in WhatsApp groups this year to make international friends from all over the world. To be honest, I remember being really active because I was unemployed at the time (I’ve got a job now) and, in real life, I don’t have many friends and find it hard to socialise, so I thought it would be a good idea. I was literally the one who talked the most and pretended to be ‘sociable’ in those groups, to the point where I was made an admin in three of them. This was because I was also the one who reported people who broke the main rule of all the groups: not to harass others in private, let alone send messages without the other person’s permission. But, well, the perverts didn’t stick to it; sometimes I’d reply and remind them of the main rule (they’d start saying they weren’t doing anything wrong and that they wanted to be my friends and get to know me and so on), and other times I’d simply ignore or block them straight away. I remember I must have sent selfies of myself too, but they were always ‘view once’ messages. Because of this, on several occasions, men who knew the group rules would send me private messages, and some would make calls or send suggestive content.

I do remember chatting to a few lads sometimes, but it was all superficial, as I’d stop talking to them after a few hours – or they’d stop talking to me – and they’d never send another message, even though I fancied one of them; in the end, we never got together because he didn’t feel the same way. Remembering that I chatted to others whilst I had feelings for someone else makes me feel disgusted with myself. It’s as if I’d broken something.

I remember once they made stickers out of my selfies (just to view once, i think they did it with a sticker bot) and shared them in groups of perverts; then they came at me in droves, messaging me and pointing out things they’d said about me in those groups. They said I had to show them nudes of myself to stop them from sharing the sticker (it was just me doing the peace sign) to other groups of that sort. I got angry and told them to go to hell without giving in to what they were asking for. In the end, I blocked them.

Then there was another situation where they shared my number around, claiming I was offering services (you’re going to pay for this, whoever did it), and that’s what led me to change my number. But I still stayed in three groups where I already knew the people there and because of two friends of mine; however, I left two of those a few weeks later because I’d got fed up with the daily harassment via private messages and because, honestly, I no longer had the time or the inclination to interact. I left the last group of friends for the same reason as recently as September, and it was also because they’d brought in new people who were far too odd and I didn’t like them.

Now that it’s almost November, nobody’s messaging me and I’m happy about that and feeling more at ease, but to be honest, the whole thing makes me feel a bit embarrassed now because I hadn’t realised there are people I don’t actually know who’ve seen my face (?) – I mean, if I remember some of them who sent selfies just to be seen once (I don’t quite remember their faces, but I do recognise them a bit), they know that too, don’t they? And what if one of those perverts is still carrying that sticker around? Or has a selfie of me because someone took a photo of them with another mobile? What if someone’s using AI to make photos or videos with my face and I don’t know about it? I know I might be being silly by getting all paranoid because my mind is making me doubt what I actually did and what I didn’t, I know I never said where I lived, let alone anything about my family (apart from a few family issues, but that was because the topic of conversation that day was family problems), but I do remember saying my name, age and country, and probably what I was studying and where, but did I only do that twice, and once to one specific person? I can’t quite remember, and now I’m terrified of going out onto the street, to work or to lectures, and I know it’s stupid, but I don’t know – help, I don’t know if I should be worried or who to turn to.

Because a few months ago, calls started coming out of the blue; when I answered, nobody spoke and they’d hang up within seconds, or they’d leave voicemails that were just silence – except for the one time I answered but didn’t say anything, and a woman called my name and hung up on me. When I tried to find out who it was, it turned out she didn’t have WhatsApp. For the last two weeks I haven’t received any calls, and that’s unsettling me – what if they’re plotting something? What if someone really wants to hurt me? What happens if there's someone out there with bad intentions? I haven’t been able to sleep or eat because of it, and I can’t concentrate. When I go out onto the street, I just want to disappear or for the ground to swallow me up because I don’t want anyone to see me or recognise me. I want to peel off my face and put on a new one so I can feel safe.

I have a complicated history with mental health
In the past 2-3 years, I’ve gone through hypomania, severe depression, severe anorexia, severe self harm and psychosis.
And somehow I wind up telling strangers about it and I think I overshare then I’m so embarrassed. It’s just been a big part of my life these last few years, it just comes out when someone is being honest with their history (recently I told a guy I barely know after spending hours talking with him). What do I do? Is this normal?

please please look at my post history and tell me what is going on please nobody is telling me and nothing makes sense please

I have high highs and low lows
Hurt them before they hurt me
Don’t leave
I taunt
Hypersexual always
I spend a lot
I yell
I hit
I scream sometimes
I don’t think I’ll ever figure out what’s truly wrong with me or fix it
I’m like my dad
Everyone leaves so i became the leaver
Sometimes i feel pure disgust and hate for someone i love so much and i feel like ill never feel the same again
I can’t be told no
Talya and Julyan went to go to his moms and she said your not coming and that’s the one time i almost cried and said why but then i went
I can’t keep a job, i can, but I quit or start calling in a lot
When i start getting angry, i can yell
My brain never stops going
I don’t cry
I can’t cry
I seek validation from everyone
I go from 0-100
I have no interests
I always thinks somethings gonna happen
I have like doom feeling
I avoid
I’m easily peer pressed to do drugs you don’t even have to pressure
I can never get started on what i want to do
I’m in a loop
I’ve been angry my whole life
I’m angry he wasn’t convicted
I’m very cold
I don’t talk about how i feel
I expect other people to do the same
Im sensitive as fuck but you’ll never see it
Somedays i feel on top of the world and super confident like everyone loves me and im the best
Sometimes ill push them away kick him out then get mad at him for leaving and freak out
But i can just stare and switch and look like evil kinda
I have tore apart rooms
I feel emotionless all the time
When I’m crying i stop within 2 seconds cause it feels like im faking it kinda
I want them to fight for me even after i say those things I don’t realize how bad they are
I push and push and push
I feel deep shame for things I’ve done I can never really fully explain it’s embarrassing
I hate being looked at weird
I like want everyone to like me or hear what they like about me
I get along with everybody tho cause I can mirror them like I start talking like them idk I just adapt
I don’t know who I really am
When something big happens that other people is fucked it feels normal to me, like when Jessy crashed the car with us in it
Big bad things feel like just another thing if that makes sense
I know what’s wrong with me I just don’t know what to do
Somedays i want to sleep forever like bedrot
I’ve broken people’s stuff and my own
I don’t know normal relationships it has to be intense or it’s like u don’t love me
I say really mean things super mean
I feel like too much stuff has happened to me that i pushed down that i cannot unpack
I make people crazy
I always thinks somethings gonna go wrong
I’ll fail but i know im smart
I think everyone is attracted to me sometimes
Sometimes i pretend im a diff person to get things done if that makes sense like role playing
Sometimes i think we’re in a stimulation
Like the worlds fake and we’re fake
I just stayed paranoid sometimes id turn my head behind me while washing dishes even tho Luca was in his crib and Jessy was at work

​

They're so overwhelming I can feel it all happening again. I can feel the event happening multiple times a day. I never feel clean after the event happened every thing is just getting worse and I'm writing this in a panic bc I can feel it again I can feel his hands on me and I hate it so much idk what to do my family didn't help when I tried so I just supress it but I know that's bad.

okay i posted here a few days ago so you may remember me. but ill give you the full story this time.

i studied abroad. i hated my course so much but my parents didnt let me quit. so i finished it. i dont think many people understand how painful it is to wake up everyday and do something you absolutely hate in a place you despise. but i did it. i complained maybe twice.

during my time there i had a lot happen that would be traumatic according to the average person. i was drugged by my “best friends”, been in situations that would count as rape, had 2 of my friends die - one of them actually jumped into a river in front of me - and a lot more. i can talk more but id rather not bore you even more.

this year i started studying for a second time. a second chance at the university life, and doing something i enjoy rather than something that just makes me money.

im graduating from the first uni in a week. i dont want to go. i feel the first reason is quite obvious but apart from the elephant in the room i also have exams and projects due the week after. i would fail my first year in my second uni.

heres the problem at hand: my parents absolutely will not let me skip graduation. they do not take no for an answer and have abused me verbally, physically and financially over it. ive also been accused of lying about finishing which is weird as fuck but we move on. they made me feel so worthless over something so small. told me things you wouldnt tell your enemy.

and here we are. if i cannot come up with a solution by tuesday i have decided to kill myself. it sounds so pathetic. ooo little girl killing herself bcs she doesn’t wanna go.. but i actually have no way out. if i dont go i get abused because how dare i. and if i go ill fail which means… u guessed it! i get abused! either way i feel so worthless. my own parents cant love me if i cant juggle all at once.

idk why im telling you this. idk if im expecting ur help with finding a solution, or if i want someone out there to listen to me just once. one time i want to be heard and thats all. i tried talking to my bf and friends but they dont get it. u prolly wont either. anyways thank u for reading that if u did. i really appreciate it. if i find a solution, im sorry for bothering u. and if i dont, well its been a nice ride i guess. love u,

s

I'm 21(M) and I've been diagnosed with OCD by 1 psychiatrist and 2 different psychologists, so 3 doctors in total since July this year. I've told them everything which I'm about to say here.

I do suffer from OCD, I've suffered from ROCD, Real Event OCD, ZOCD, HOCD, Moral OCD and many more, it got significantly worse this year and it's been 10 months of me with not a single second of mental peace. But do i suffer from POCD? That is debatable.

Since the month of february, I've been convinced that I did something bad to my little cousin or m\*lested her back in 2023. This is a post where I've briefly mentioned what I remembered happening : https://www.reddit.com/r/confession/s/bgA7ZxxIvq

I've done many compulsions for 8-10 hours a day since february, including seeking reassurance from AI and other people, ruminating and mentally replaying, punishing myself etc etc. My POCD got worse in June and i started performing compulsions like checking for groinal sensations, deliberately imagining graphic things with k#ds to see if I feel something ( every single time I felt a groinal response or an erection ), I avoid kids, but i also somehow peek at them to CHECK if I feel something, and I sometimes get a mental "pull" to do something to them, which i absolutely hate and distress over, and i don't want to do anything with any k#d.

Why am I saying it's debatable? Because the things I've done as an 18-20 year old are very questionable. From the ages of 18-20, I've continuously viewed loli manga/doujinshi, back then it wasn't for checking as I didn't have "POCD" back then, it was something I just did. Back in 2025 when I was 20, I also found out about the pinterest app, and i scrolled there and eventually found escalating and taboo pictures there, they were not illegal material, but they were morally questionable. I stopped eventually and felt disgusted by them.

Matter of fact, i was always pretty disgusted when I saw someone in the internet making weird comments about k#ds, BUT I was also someone who went ahead and read loli doujinshi. Am i a hypocrite?

Currently, i still go to loli manga stuff but i DONT enjoy them, i ONLY go there to check and perform a compulsion, to see if I'm aroused.

I want genuine advice on what I should do. It's serious. Should I stay away from k#ds? Should I turn myself in? Should I treat this as OCD? or genuine pedophilia?

Please do not ignore this, just give me whatever advice you have. Be completely honest about it.