My Story
I have never been able to just live. I over think what one may consider simple, and I posses a mind filled with uneasy thoughts and worry. A place of fear, all I have ever known. My life is a journey, that is just beginning.
From the time I was little I have struggled to be what was considered a normal kid. I have vivid memories of myself, sitting in the corner of my school playground alone. How bad I wanted to play, but I was simply horrified. I felt judged, and that was exactly what I was afraid of. I continued many of my school years the same way: Occupied by worry, and troubled by my thoughts. That was just the start of what I would endure.
My anxiety and O.C.D was triggered after my parents got divorced. For a while my mother was severely depressed, and spent her free time in bed. Her temporary disappearance made me weak. I missed my mom, and I figured that maybe if I begin to take things into my own hands she would heal. So one day I cleaned for her. This one time thing grew to something I was doing everyday, and then twice a day. I became obsessed. Pretty soon I was lost. I began checking door knobs, and light switches, for the voices in my head forced me. Living became a task. I still remember that feeling I used to get. I would hear the faint voices in my mind pushing me to get up and complete some necessary ritual, and my stomach would drop. They would tell me to do things that no person in their right mind would give into. I wasn't in my right mind. At one time the voices told me to stab my dog with a knife. The urge was so strong, and it took everything I had in me to not give in. These thoughts and feelings became my way of life, and for about two years this was how I lived, if that would even be considered living.
The following years were a bit better, but in 8th grade I relapsed, and became obsessed with cleaning again. Although the intrusive thoughts were not as bad, I remember feeling very uncomfortable if there was any mess around me. I needed perfection. I would clean my home for hours, picking up any speck of dust visible to the human eye, and scream at anyone who dared to get in my way.
That summer I moved with my family to a new home. My Freshman year I would be attending a new school, and that sparked my anxiety. That first day I was terrified, I barely talked to anyone, and before I knew it I was well into the year and still alone. I began to break down, and felt like a nobody. Every night I cried myself to sleep, just praying for a friend. But I was to scared to make one. I was more lost than I had ever been. I became very depressed, and started harming myself. I would rip my skin off, and gag myself until I puked, for I felt that nothing mattered anymore.
Later on my mom realized I needed help. She took me to the doctors and I was per scribed a special medication to help with Anxiety, O.C.D. and Depression. I also began therapy to help me learn how to handle myself. Currently at this moment I am still struggling, but I know that I am strong, and I will get through this. I always do.
From the time I was little I have struggled to be what was considered a normal kid. I have vivid memories of myself, sitting in the corner of my school playground alone. How bad I wanted to play, but I was simply horrified. I felt judged, and that was exactly what I was afraid of. I continued many of my school years the same way: Occupied by worry, and troubled by my thoughts. That was just the start of what I would endure.
My anxiety and O.C.D was triggered after my parents got divorced. For a while my mother was severely depressed, and spent her free time in bed. Her temporary disappearance made me weak. I missed my mom, and I figured that maybe if I begin to take things into my own hands she would heal. So one day I cleaned for her. This one time thing grew to something I was doing everyday, and then twice a day. I became obsessed. Pretty soon I was lost. I began checking door knobs, and light switches, for the voices in my head forced me. Living became a task. I still remember that feeling I used to get. I would hear the faint voices in my mind pushing me to get up and complete some necessary ritual, and my stomach would drop. They would tell me to do things that no person in their right mind would give into. I wasn't in my right mind. At one time the voices told me to stab my dog with a knife. The urge was so strong, and it took everything I had in me to not give in. These thoughts and feelings became my way of life, and for about two years this was how I lived, if that would even be considered living.
The following years were a bit better, but in 8th grade I relapsed, and became obsessed with cleaning again. Although the intrusive thoughts were not as bad, I remember feeling very uncomfortable if there was any mess around me. I needed perfection. I would clean my home for hours, picking up any speck of dust visible to the human eye, and scream at anyone who dared to get in my way.
That summer I moved with my family to a new home. My Freshman year I would be attending a new school, and that sparked my anxiety. That first day I was terrified, I barely talked to anyone, and before I knew it I was well into the year and still alone. I began to break down, and felt like a nobody. Every night I cried myself to sleep, just praying for a friend. But I was to scared to make one. I was more lost than I had ever been. I became very depressed, and started harming myself. I would rip my skin off, and gag myself until I puked, for I felt that nothing mattered anymore.
Later on my mom realized I needed help. She took me to the doctors and I was per scribed a special medication to help with Anxiety, O.C.D. and Depression. I also began therapy to help me learn how to handle myself. Currently at this moment I am still struggling, but I know that I am strong, and I will get through this. I always do.
Comments
Post a Comment