So...where to start...I do not have much of a story to be honest. I was not hurt or mistreated as a child, yet my memories of my childhood do not bring me any happiness. My parents have always tried to take good care of me yet i have animosity towards them. I have never been bullied, wrongfully assaulted/insulted, or traumatized in any memorable way and yet, my mind is fractured as if all of those things had happened in succession. I am what you can a chemically imbalanced creature. I am confident the stem of my problems is physiological. Without elaborating unnecessarily, i will say i deal with undesirable thoughts at an excessive amount. This was my first before anything else was. If you speak to me in person, i think you would find me to be morally sound and good mannered, and i am truly. However, since I was about 16 (likely younger though some memories are foggy) i have had the issue of intrusive thoughts. These thoughts do not only involve suicide, but many things no one should have present in their mind. When i was younger i had to deal with it on my own, and i like to believe i fared very well. I have never drank alcohol, taken any drugs, or physically attacked anyone, in response to my distortion which is more than i can say for some others i have met with similar problems. If I am being vague at all, I am doing it out of respect for this wonderful forum, not wanting to pollute it with the specifics of my dysfunction. If i can put it simply, whatever act you believe is deplorable to do or thought you believe if deplorable to think, i have more than likely ruminated over it. The problem is that this is not by choice. I do not WANT to think about these things and i can only imagine how they made their way into my mind in the first place. I have social anxiety and depression, and while the last doctor i spoke to said the depression likely came first, i believe it was the anxiety that first appeared. Social anxiety is one of the most unsettling disorders to deal with when you are young. A time when everyone expects you to move about and get things done. A time when everyone wants to get to know you. Human beings are social animals first, and to be unable to obey your intrinsic nature without feeling nauseous is very difficult. My depression has always seemed more like bipolar disorder to me, though i have been told the vicissitudes can be confused as such. It is very much a part of me, maybe more so than my name or appearance. I think the saddest thing about it, and the point that brings about the most self-pity, is i do not remember what it is like to be happy. I mean i know i have these fleeting moments of happiness, such as when I am writing a story but as i told the last doctor i spoke with, i do not consider that happiness. Happiness is more concrete. More grounded. It is not so easily stripped away from you by a single intruding thought and unpleasant memory. I am 20 years old. I think that is important because despite how much i consider myself in-tune with the world around me, i am still young and my fact, still developing. That doctor i spoke of, told me that i should remember when we are young, sometimes things seem more intense than they are and that there is a strong chance these intense feelings will subside as i age. As tempting as that idea is to accept, i do not know if i can wait to confirm it.