I can’t remember I time in my life where I wasn’t anxious. It seemed that even at a small age I would over analyze even the smallest details. Everyone miss took it as being “shy” And while the teachers tried to explain to my parents countless times that I will eventually grow out of it, I knew that something else was preventing me from talking or being around people. Last year my life finally hit rock bottom, I have kept everything inside for such a long time that it finally became to overwhelming for me. I was admitted into a mental hospital for a week. Being exciting about dieing scared everyone as well as me too much. After I got out everyone assumed that things were going to be better for me, that I magically would feel better, be a totally different person. And as much as I tried to show them the person I knew I wasn’t things still weren’t going right for me. A few weeks ago I was admitted to another mental hospital for a week. I had my whole plan down to the songs I wanted at my funeral. There I finally got diagnosed with OCD along with a severe form of social anxiety and major depression, general anxiety and post traumatic stress disorder and of course with all of that substance abuse tagged along.
I always thought everyone woke up dreading to go through the day. I always thought that everyone would rather sit in their room alone than out with friends. But once I started seeing kids my own age having fun, going out and actually holding conversations I knew I was different. At this point in my life my OCD pretty much controls my life. I count everything. Words on street signs, websites, magazines, anything, and if that wasn’t time consuming enough I than count backwards to even it out. I always wash my hands not once but ten times. I have a counting ritual before I go to sleep, never step on cracks and am convinced that I have to step on carpets with my left foot first. I get really really detailed images that never seem to leave me alone. Everyone I know dies, a different way every time I get the image in my head. It’s very frustrating but probably like most on here I am learning to deal with my disorder. My social anxiety forces me to spend my days stuck in my house. I dropped out my senior year of high school because I would panic just walking into the hallways of my school. I have lost all of my closest friends because of what I am going through. There are only certain people in my life that I feel comfortable around and slowly seeing those friendships fading kills me. I sit here most of the nights just dreaming about what it must be like to be able to go out with friends and have fun. To have a person you could honestly call a real friend. Just to be a normal eighteen year old.
To Write Love On Her Arms
"A friend of mine told me there's no such thing as suicide prevention. This is an attempt to prove him wrong, to say that love can change a life. We can hold back the darkness. Rescue is possible.