Your Questions About Emotional Tapping

do i have add-adhd plzz helpp?

Do i have add/adhd pllz helpp?
ok i told my mom and she thinks im stupid.

ok well these are my symnthoms

i cant concentrate on things, like my teatcher would be talking about something and if it doesnt really interest me my mind would just drift off to something elsee.
-i cant sit still without tapping my leg or doing something with my hand
-ive ben ovrely emotional
-really stressed
-i multi task alot
- when i try to do my homework i would start it then do another project then hop back to another assigment and by the end i would not complete anything.
-i blurt out rude things
-my teatcher says that i destrupt her class by talkig
- i interupt ppl when there talking.

What do you think this dream means?

I dreamt that me and my beloved were embracing each other’s emotions with tender acts of kindness and I kept tapping into his unconscious mind through the alignment of God’s will but I didn’t want to capture him that way, so I tried to engage in a forceful, unnaturally rushed, ill-positioned pre-mature form of bonding with him by taking what I wanted without the necessary emotional, time and labor commitment that it took to get there. This arrangement didn’t work for him, because he was not a superficial individual. My desire to rush the natural processes of emotional bonding made me unusually anxious. He was trying to decide whether or not he should hang out with me because I seemed to experience emotional pain in his presence (by being so anxious)

My romantic inclinations were riddled with uncertainty, self-doubt, fear, and low self esteem. I gave him the impression that it increased when I liked somebody. He said we could use an informal bible study to get to know each other but he didn’t think I’d have that much value to offer me so he offered to give me a superficial friendship to absolve my internal despair, though I knew that he didn’t think I valued him enough as a friend to offer him a superficial level of friendship.

How would you analyze what he was feeling or thinking in this situation?

I dreamt that me and my beloved were embracing each other’s emotions with tender acts of kindness and he kept tapping into my unconscious mind through the alignment of God’s will but I didn’t want to capture him that way, so I tried to engage in a forceful, unnaturally rushed, ill-positioned pre-mature form of binding with him by taking what I wanted without the necessary emotional, time and labor commitment that it took to get there. This arrangement didn’t work for him, because he was not a superficial individual. My desire to rush the natural processes of emotional bonding made me unusually anxious. He was trying to decide whether or not he should hang out with me because I seemed to experience emotional pain in his presence (by being so anxious)

My romantic inclinations were riddled with uncertainty, self-doubt, fear, and low self esteem. I gave him the impression that it increased when I liked somebody. He said we could use an informal bible study to get to know each other but he didn’t think I’d have that much value to offer me so he offered to give me a superficial friendship to absolve my internal despair, though I knew that he didn’t think I valued him enough as a friend to offer him a superficial level of friendship.

What is the message in this dream that is not blatently obvious?

I dreamt that me and my beloved were embracing each other’s emotions with tender acts of kindness and he kept tapping into my unconscious mind through the alignment of God’s will but I didn’t want to capture him that way, so I tried to engage in a forceful, unnaturally rushed, ill-positioned pre-mature form of binding with him by taking what I wanted without the necessary emotional, time and labor commitment that it took to get there. This arrangement didn’t work for him, because he was not a superficial individual. My desire to rush the natural processes of emotional bonding made me unusually anxious. He was trying to decide whether or not he should hang out with me because I seemed to experience emotional pain in his presence (by being so anxious)

My romantic inclinations were riddled with uncertainty, self-doubt, fear, and low self esteem. I gave him the impression that it increased when I liked somebody. He said we could use an informal bible study to get to know each other but he didn’t think I’d have that much value to offer me so he offered to give me a superficial friendship to absolve my internal despair, though I knew that he didn’t think I valued him enough as a friend to offer him a superficial level of friendship.

What does this dream mean?

dreamt that me and my beloved were embracing each other’s emotions with tender acts of kindness and I kept tapping into his unconscious mind through the alignment of God’s will but I didn’t want to capture him that way, so I tried to engage in a forceful, unnaturally rushed, ill-positioned pre-mature form of bonding with him by taking what I wanted without the necessary emotional, time and labor commitment that it took to get there. This arrangement didn’t work for him, because he was not a superficial individual. My desire to rush the natural processes of emotional bonding made me unusually anxious. He was trying to decide whether or not he should hang out with me because I seemed to experience emotional pain in his presence (by being so anxious)

My romantic inclinations were riddled with uncertainty, self-doubt, fear, and low self esteem. I gave him the impression that it increased when I liked somebody. He said we could use an informal bible study to get to know each other but he didn’t think I’d have that much value to offer me so he offered to give me a superficial friendship to absolve my internal despair, though I knew that he didn’t think I valued him enough as a friend to offer him a superficial level of friendship.

How should I end my short story?

I’m writing it for fun but I don’t know how I should end it. Any suggestions? Also, any suggestions for what I have so far? if it’s too long, you can skip some parts:

So you’re probably upstairs in your bedroom stuffing your red, tear-stricken face in your dirty disheveled sheets. Your body is probably wrapped in a cocoon of some sort and I wonder if my face is still in a frame sitting innocently on your dresser. Also, I wonder if it’s even my face that’s captivating your attention. Or maybe you’re shooting for distractions and your eyes keep lingering towards the poster slapped on your wall behind your bed. You know, the one with the girl wearing scraps of fabric for clothing showing off her cleavage. I still don’t know how your parents let you keep it, but strangely I like it. It’s the only thing about you that reminds me you’re actually a man. Speaking of your parents, I doubt they’re home.

I’m crazy-accurate, I know. I don’t need binoculars and a good angle at your window to know what and who is behind it. These are the exact reasons why I’m standing here in front of your door. Tapping my foot on the cement floor and running my fingers through tangled strands of my hair, I find myself sweating. And I never sweat. I hope you don’t answer the door. I’ve just rang the doorbell. Did you hear it? I hope you’re buried deep within those sheets, Ben. Don’t come downstairs.

Clearly, I don’t want to do what I’m about to do. But I feel somewhat obligated too. I don’t have much feelings and my emotional range could never stretch out as far as yours does, Ben. The last time I cried was in second grade because I threw up on the bus on the way back from a school field trip. I’ve hated the aquarium and yellow school busses ever since. The truth pounds on my heart like a hammer and I can’t avoid it. I’ve hurt you, Ben.

You’d think the boy would be standing on the girl’s porch apologizing for dumping her. Actually, I take that back, that sounds completely wrong. The boy would not be apologizing and if he did, she’d probably slap him. But the idea’s the same. Maybe it’s the girl inside me finally fighting to reveal herself. But I have no idea what I’m going to say.

So you open your door and my stomach inverts. Seriously, I think it just turned inside out. It feels like everything inside me is working wrong and flowing through the wrong pipes. Fighting hard not to explode into myself, I search for words. Instead I choke on the syllables as I take in your state. You look similar to a dead person. I’m scared. I’m wondering how I was able to score such a dramatic boy in my past. We’re only in eighth grade, too.

“Hey,” I say lamely. Suddenly the roles reverse as they always do and suddenly I feel like I’m the one who wears the boxers.

“Sara?” you say my name like you always do, with that soft, sometimes frightened voice. It reminds me of a mouse. I hate it.

“Um…look,” I begin thinking of ways to escape. I should never have come. “Look, I just got home from school…which…I realized you didn’t come to today, and…um…I needed to make sure you were… I mean, you’re okay, right?” I stumble over words like Don Rivers trips over his feet on the track field for our school team (it’s a no-cut team). You stare at me blankly and rather pathetically. But also, embarrassingly. Woah, your expression holds a lot of adverbs. Well, I guess that just shows how emotional you are. And I hate it.

“I was sick,” you lie and sniffle showing me the tears you were crying. I rock back and forth on my heels. So here we are, Ben, awkwardly standing on your porch staring at each other’s feet while waiting for one to say something completely different from what the other wants. I want your confirmation that you won’t keep crying and will start coming back to school and you want me to be your girlfriend, again. Or rather, you want to be the girlfriend again. Have you considered looking for a male companion? I know you’re only thirteen but isn’t this the age to experiment? I think it would benefit you more.

Ok, I’m being unfair. I’m just too afraid right now and I want to blame you. Who else can I blame? But really Ben, you have to man up. Please? Or else I’m going to die right here on this damn cement porch staring at your feet.

“You were definitely not sick,” I tell you, “you are about as sick as me.”
“Do you even care if I was sick or not?” you ask me with a pathetic frown. I sigh.
“I guess I do if I forced myself off my butt to knock on your door and check up on you.” I say.
“Check up on me?” you’re glaring at me. “Don’t give me your damn pity.”

“Really? Because you’re putting on a good show, the tears are in place and the frown is set. Don’t you want me to feel sorry for you?” I challenge you angrily. And it’s just like me to display the only type of emotion I know how to feel. The only type of waters I can swim in. Anger.

“Just leave.” You shut the door in my face. And I do what you say

Reocurring clock time + reality?

Please note, this is slightly long for common yahoo questions, but all of it is important. I kept it as concise as I could.

I’ll start by saying this has occurred so frequently, that it has pushed me to attempt to convey it to others in hopes of understanding or more importantly… identifying it.

Basically, for the past 12 years roughly, I’ve been having an odd experience where the number 4:21 appears to me. Examples are most notably represented by the clocks which occupy my room, from table tops to computers… I will randomly awake in the morning, think to myself in my semi-conscious state — what time is it, look at the clock, only to see it shift from 4:20 to 4:21 at the exact second I look at it. As if it were fate… I’ve even gotten a photo of it on my phone just to make sure I wasn’t seeing things… (That should show just how far I’ve debated this — questioning my own sanity even !!) This particular occurrence has happened more times than I cared to count (like over 30). These are all different clocks will different timings in relation to actual time … yet it still occurs in same fashion.

Just 2 days ago, the most compelling situation I’ve experienced yet…
I was watching a movie at the time, and the movie has it’s own clock which ticks upwards from 0:00:00 (hr:mins:sec) to approx 2 hours.
At 4:21, the power went out, and at that exact moment I paused my movie, which was running on a laptop — thus power outtage had no effect on movie being played. I of course checked rest of house to see if it was a short in my room, and found neighbors power was fine (whole street had electricity… except me)… just my entire house was out… came back to the movie, and the power of course had returned by that time, but noticed before clicking “Play” again, that the counter for the movie… also…. was stopped at 1:24:21… I mean look at that. How is that possible… That kind of coincidence just doesn’t happen, ever. It gives me chills thinking about it….
It was so moving that it nearly brought me into emotional tears from pure shock or fear, I’m not sure which. I wasn’t sure if I was going to throw up at first, but suddenly tears formed and I almost cried, but stopped myself, and nauseous feeling went away. It was really weird and scary, happened so fast.

I’ve had people tell me it’s a sub-conscious thing… like as if my subconscious were tapping into the clock time, as if my mind were capable of secretly counting the seconds till 4:21 am, and awaking me in addition to that, exactly at the millisecond that the time appears visually… Seriously, come on. can’t be true.
I’ve started to venture to say it’s God, or perhaps the Devil, I really don’t know, but it’s so frequent, and SO TIMELY. It would be nice if, in a religious sense, I could be instructed of a way to determine which of the two it is… Or in numerological sense, whatever that might be otherwise..

Has anyone experienced number occurrences similar in nature to this? Does anyone know what it might mean?

If I were to guess what it means, I could only venture to say it has something to do with the life I’ve experienced… I’ve had drug-attic parents, experienced drugs myself in attempts to smother the pain from it all (and many other grossly terribly things family related, all of which shoved under the rug, for me to internalize… etc..), relapsed into sober-mind for over a year (hooray ^.^ ), and yet this … numerology, continues. I relate it to drugs because I mean… 4:20, we all know what that is. And symbolically, the change from that time to another would mean the change I’ve experienced… so to speak, moving from marijuana to absolutely none.
However this occurred way before I started doing drugs, so conversely, perhaps it’s a “calling” for me to return to it… I’m stretching here… I really don’t know what to make of it.

I’m reaching out trying to find an understanding… If anyone could reply with their thoughts I would greatly appreciate it. Anything relating to numerology or religion is highly appreciated as well.
I’m aware this isn’t exactly the right category — but it doesn’t really fit in anywhere else.

do i have schizophrenia?

i think i have schizophrenia aka schizotypal personality disorder(SPD), this is what happens.
i hear things, not voices, just weird sounds like music with people tapping wine glasses
i wake up in the middle of the night and just black out
sometimes i wake up with scratches on myself done by me
i feel electricity burning inside my fingertips, toes, nose
i only feel happy when i am with my 3 closest friends
i have considered suicide
i think i have magical powers
i believe fairies and spirits are real and i can talk to them
at school i don’t speak out in front of crowds(besides my class because i have 3/5 classes with the same people) because i might say something stupid
i want to cry a lot but i never produce tears
i have very violent anger bouts
i have giant mood swings
my mom thinks i have attitude problems
i moved away from my relatives and my bfffffff 5 or 6 years ago so i have no one to talk to
i think i have a small case of ocd
my cousin was just admitted to a special place for SPD a couple months ago so my mom won’t believe me if i tell her
i hit myself(not cut) intentionally
suspicious ideas
people have a hard time following my train of thought
what people call flat or cold emotional responses
i think i have seen people before that aren’t really there
i think im really fat(it controls my life)
everything must be perfect that i do
i get angry quickly when my expectations are not met

do i have SPD? could it run in the family because my cousin has it too and my two cousin have ocd as well as i might?