I've never consulted a psychologist before, so I don't know what it might mean...

I have to apologize for the emotions this text may trigger. I can only imagine how cruel and perverted it will seem to the readers with genuine traumatic experiences. It is cruel and perverted, indeed, and that's why I'm looking for advice.

I'm a 23-year old single female who have always found physical suffering attractive. I'm an only child of helicopter parents, and I've always felt smothered by their love and protection, fantasizing about loneliness, abandonment, being an orphan etc. In my childhood (5-6) I tried to drown garden snails in a teacup and invented stories about injury and pain. I was sickly and frail, stayed at home till 7 and was hospitalized a few times, but never with an injury (they say I was brought into hospital with a massive burn at 2, but I don't remember it). Now that I'm an adult, I still can't help feeling fascinated by injury and wanting to be hurt (not to hurt someone, but to be a victim). Meanwhile, I don't play any sports, don't like exercise, behave in a very patient and quiet way (no fights, brawling, adventurous escapades - everything in my life is very safe and moderate). Now and then I look for pictures of people wearing casts/bandages, especially battered and bruised young women - I find them extremely attractive and want to be like them. My main "fetishes" are facial bruises, black eyes, bandages and broken bones. A few days ago I deliberately gave myself a black eye (I knew I would be staying at home for the next week, so I could afford it). I felt really beautiful with it, took a lot of pictures and regretted it being mild; it gave me the confidence and self-satisfaction no clothes, hairstyle or makeup could ever provide. I'm highly cautious, and, mind you, it was not a compulsive urge but a calm, "rational" decision to finally please myself - I was careful so as not to damage the eye but still produce a realistic shiner (makeup wouldn't do, I felt it had to be real), and I wasn't compelled to do it - just found it beautiful and planned the action beforehand. My family is a huge turn-off as far as those fantasies are concerned: I imagine a stranger/friend/partner taking care of me after an injury, but the very thought of my parents' making a fuss is disgusting. When I try to analyze myself, I see that I sometimes focus on the feeling of being hurt but strong (something like in a movie: "I...am...alright..." *collapses*), and sometimes on simply being seen as helpless, frail, touching. (I am a stout, curvy woman who'd like to be frail but doesn't want to exercise or diet - and an injury would make even me look frail and helpless). The desired injury should be painful, changing my behaviour and appearance (crutches, casts, or a dazzled look after a head injury, hazy eyes, helplessness and all). At the same time my main fear in real life is mental incapacitation - the very idea of becoming less intelligent gives me the shivers, I'd rather die than have my mental agility, memory and learning ability worsen (while temporary amnesia, disorientation etc. still feel very "cute" in my fantasies, and I even made a character for a forum roleplaying game who suffered from it). In general, I think "cute" is the best word to describe how I feel about my fantasies - injured and strong is "cute", weak and helpless is very "cute" (and I wouldn't like to be totally disfigured - only certain facial injuries are "cute" for me).

I know I won't break down and destroy myself - my behaviour is always under control, and I'm extremely rational. I never act on impulse. I do realize it's very sick; I do realize - intellectually! - that pain is not beautiful, that there is no such thing as "aesthetic injury", that suffering is terrible, that fiction stereotypes have nothing to do with real-life experiences. My mind clearly realizes it all. But it doesn't help my emotions - I still feel excited by "disturbing" pictures and want to "suffer beautifully" (according to my perverted view of beauty). It's not about my principles or misconceptions, it's about an instinctive emotional response. It troubles me, because I don't understand the reason behind it.

I engage in compulsive self-harming: I pick the skin off my lips, fingers and soles, crack my nails and bite my lips. But it's different: it doesn't feel aesthetic, attractive, I just turn to it naturally, it's but a bad habit (and my parents are biters and pickers too).

Strangely enough, I'm always afraid of falling ill. My childhood was a series of colds, my parents guarded the ailing child like the apple of their eye, and now it's almost like a phobia: I wear sweaters and caps all year round, I never sit next to an open window, I use disinfectants and nose sprays to make sure I don't catch something contagious from my neighbours. (I know it's hilarious. I can't help it - I feel too anxious). As if there were a line separating "cute" and "non-cute" complaints: sneezing is not cute, limping on crutches or losing consciousness is cute.

I researched the amputee/devotee community; although I would like to retain my limbs, being incapacitated for a while does feel "cute". (But the inevitable reaction of my family spoils all the imaginary pleasure: I can immediately feel their concern and distress, and their (hateful) care, and I'm like "I'm sick and tired of your love, don't you dare pity me or help me, leave me alone!". But if I imagine myself surrounded by strangers - it feels good).

Is it narcissism? Is it Munchausen syndrome? (Actually, "Munchausen by internet" may be my thing: at 14 I set up an online journal to play an injured girl, but couldn't make myself do it because it felt morally sick and improper; and my online game character last year was a physically suffering young lady. But at the same time I'm afraid of painful hospital procedures).

Am I an attention-seeker (but then why am I so disgusted by my relatives' attention)? Am I a masochist (but isn't is supposed to be related to sex, while I started realizing my obsession as a preschooler)? Am I hysteroid? Do I want to be overpowered (is it a subconscious way to avoid responsibility)? Do I want to feel the attention of others as a proof that I can be loved not only by my relatives, a proof of worth (but I don't like going out at the same time)?

I've always realized it, even at 5 or 6, but shame has prevented me from discussing it or seeking help. Now I acknowledge it. I want to understand myself fully, I ought to do it. What can it be?

Thank you.