Dammit, enough hiding. My name's Benjamin and I'm 29 years old. Having had a heart scare two days ago, enough is enough.
I don't have Paranoid Schizophrenia. I don't have OCD, I don't have Pica, I don't have Lesch-Nyhan, and I can't say there's much up with my fingers, bar occasionally biting my nails -- to the sort of degree one does in a coffee-shop.
However, on stressful days -- of which there are an exponential number -- I should admit I chew large chunks off my right arm. We have encountered tendon before. We have seen bone. Not cut off. Chew off. And swallow. And yes, it hurts. Now which is it? Pain or hunger/stimulus/underlying sexual anxiety? You've got two ever branching possibilities there.
If you don't believe me, I've got the photographic evidence. No so underground now are we, lords of insincere death metal?
Call it Autophagy (as they diagnosed it in 2005 -- not that they actually gave me any info on treatment; hence heading online... oh boy), call it self-cannibalism, call it autophagia, call it autosarcophagy, call it a few other names. The majority of journal papers don't seem too sure, to be honest.
I am indeed 'anon341357'. I'd like to point out that Wikipedia has it potentially incorrect, and that has lead to increasing amounts of crap and pseudo-psychological speculation over the years -- god knows, I keep tabs -- as well as the inspiration for a hell of a lot of trashy bands, amateurish student projects, references to the accursed Hopkins, clandestine Flickr albums and vampy fetish models after a bit of a 'dark' kick.
If we like the idea, consider multiple CSA and psychological/physical nastiness. Consider female on male IPV, consider female on male rape, consider never, ever, ever being believed, ever, no matter how much stress turns the situation masticatory. That's quite a handful we've got there. Quite stressful, that.
However, unlike the majority of posters, I'm not hiding behind a screen. Grow a pair please, someone, as it's really not a common diagnosis at all under these circumstances, and if anything, might need someone to be brave enough to let themselves care. I know it's difficult sometimes.
Consider you've potentially messed it all up over this NHS psychiatry with insensitive speculations -- and not really listening to the timid patient with an 'interesting' private-life that is not quite so timid, and indeed, the one in possession of lots of different tones of voice. Actually, I was told there's only one over living case like me in the Western world. The mirth of that. I often hope they're okay, or pray for euthanasia for them.
Okay, it's not quite Truddi Chase, etc. but, beyond that, how on earth would you know? You hardly ever see me in the higher echelons, and CPNs etc. can't quite cut it over the matter.
I'm rather bitter about all that above, as indeed one would be after this many operations and years of chronic pain. I asked Wikipedia about this and they ignored me too. At what point can someone just accept reality? It's not common, but it's there. Yup, I've got my own research, carried out vocationally under conditions that one many well describe as 'utter hell'.
Useful other diagnoses to note: Borderline Personality Disorder and Klinefelter Syndrome. Potential number-line Synaesthesia, plus some other one in that category of neurological confusion. Gawd, what a combo... My wife doesn't like the situation either.
Otherwise, well, you don't seem to read this every day. You might just look at the fake pictures and have a good giggle. Read it now, and think.
P.S. Just because one certainly needs to have a sense of humour to even live this long, and also because I've always wanted to confirm this fact to the world, we do indeed taste a bit like pork.
Also, I do appear to not be a lab rat, although I do have a broken spine around my coccyx. Strange coincidence.