Hi, I don't know where to begin... I don't really expect anyone to read this. It's long and painful... I am fairly young (17 y/o male) and yet I have had a pretty rough time lately. I don't feel like I can talk to anyone in my life, and yet I have to talk to someone. I don't have any friends at school (every day I eat lunch alone in my truck). I love my family and all, but they couldn't understand what I have gone through (unknowingly they have talked bad about people who are similar to me) as well as I am afraid that they will hate what I have become. Most of my life I have suffered from anxiety. I never felt like I could talk to my parents, even as a kid. I was so afraid of them getting mad at me. So when I became addicted to porn at 10 years old, I kept it hidden. I went on like everything was fine. Slowly, I got worse and worse. I grew distant from those around me. In elementary school, I played with friends, but by the time I was in middle school I forced myself to be alone. I cared more about what people thought of me, and was afraid of embarasing myself. Still, I was fine for the most part up to the beginning of high school. I tried making friends and getting involved with activities when everything began to fall apart. I felt like I was living a lie. These people I called friends liked the face I wore on the outside, but had no clue who I truly was. No one did. I once tried standing up for something I believe in, and found out the reality of life. Even if you believe what you are doing is right, people will disagree with you and fight you on it. Those that I once considered friends told lies about me and completely avoided me. I was so hurt I went back into my shell and let the darkness grow in me. I began to feel intense moments of stress when there was no reason to feel like that. (Like I was going to take the ACT when I would just be walking between classes.) I isolated myself to my room when I wasn't at school. This year, everything began to fall apart. I have been addicted to porn for almost seven years at this point, and desperately wanted to quit, but I couldn't. I began to feel that I had no control over my life. Between anxiety, addiction, and my overprotective parents; I had never really made decisions for myself. I have just been a bystander to everything that's happening. My stress began to grow until I found myself crying for seemingly no reason. I just wanted to be alone. I needed to be alone. Then I began my senior year of high school, and I have never felt more alone. I experienced growing pain inside my chest and louder voices in my head. "I never can do anything right... No one know who I am... No one cares that I am in so much pain..." I fought these thoughts for awhile until it got too hard. I gave up and let them take control. I very recently hit the lowest point of my life. I was home alone (as usual) when I gave into my porn addiction. I had been doing better, and yet was now a failure again. I began to pound on the wall hoping to cancel out my dark thoughts. There came a crash from the other side of the wall... I swore and stormed to the other side to see what I had broken. A few picture frames had fallen of the wall. The first one was fine, so I hung it back on the wall. But the second one had shattered when it hit the ground. I collapsed on the floor and began to collect the pieces. I paused staring at the broken glass... It seems like my curse to mess up when I can, and this time was no different. I acted on an urge I had many times before. I rolled up my sleeve and cut my arm with the fragment of glass. Some of the pain in me decreased so I cut myself again and again. Not very deep, but deep enough to feel pain and draw blood. I threw away the frame, but hid the glass in my room. A few days later my family decided to sleep downstairs as a family since my sister was moving out of the house. I didn't want to since I can't sleep at night and don't want to be around anyone as I toss and turn with my head running at 100 mph, so I was slowly walking around getting ready for bed. My sister walked out of a dark room holding my cat, and scared me. I was so tightly wound that I yelled and about had a heart attack. This scared my cat which jumped out of my sisters arms scratching her. Once I recovered I realized I messed up once again just for being my anxious self. My whole family was mad at me and stormed back upstairs (I still don't know why my jumpiness ruined the moment, but it did) I crawled back to my bedroom (my parents put me alone downstairs, which I am fine with). The call of the hidden glass was too strong to refuse... I pulled it out and took all the frustration I was feeling out on my arm. I don't think I will ever forget the sound my skin made as I hacked away. The next day I wore a jacket to hide the cuts, but realized how much it hurt when someone touched me. (I now flinch whenever anyone reach out to touch me even for a high five.) My arms burned all day, but I continued to cut myself. In part to punish myself for being an absolute failure, in part to distract myself from the intense pain within. I went to take a shower today, and as I took off my shirt I realized how terrible it is. What an awful person I am. I don't know what to do anymore... Every day drags on for a miserable eternity. I don't remember things very well anymore. I am so lost, hurt, and confused... I don't know why I am posting this. I suppose I just want there to be somewhere I can go to for support. It is so hard to keep all of this in all the time... If you actually cared enough to read all of this, thank you. It's people like you that keep people like me holding on for one more day. Thanks.