rblt94
18-01-10, 22:09
Well this is my second time editing this after reading others to put more depth in my "story." I want to get it out and completely understand if you don't read it by it's length.
Here we go...
When I was one years old my parents officially divorced and my mom gained full custody of my older brother, sister, and I. I never really knew the difference of my surroundings and just learned to adapt to my new "families." Endlessly, I have tried to trace back the reasons why I am the way I am today, and always include the dramatic seperation of my family as an influence. I've always obtained a lonely feeling and maybe it's not having my real father live with me as a male figure. Who will ever know.
Out of my step parents my stepmother is the one who has manipulated me. Since she met me at the age of 5, she would always judge me, and my sister and brother, and say that certain things about our lives weren't good enough and that it was miserable. I grew utterly inferior of her and would feel completely uncomfortable around her. I don't know if that was a link to why I've always tried to change myself, or whatever I'm made of, to recieve affection by someone else. There's so many possible links that I ponder about that all of it has become an annoying blur.
I don't recall being anxious before the one day I can always say was my first break down. I was at my dad's house in the living room by the couch as they were watching a movie together, "The Silence of the Lambs", and for some reason, I cannot remember, I thought I was going to stop breathing and die. I tried to sit on my dad's lap and he asked what I was doing and I just started crying out of fear and didn't want him to let me go. From that point on my excessive thoughts kicked in and I was a stone of terror that couldn't be broke into back to my careless self. The little girl that loved to play. I would sit in my room and cry not understanding what was wrong with me and everyone else just thought it was a phase. No one in my family has ever had such an..issue. I would focus on my breathing to make sure that I didn't stop and would make myself sick over it and turned into a zombie that didn't know anything else but the feeling of doom. To make myself go to sleep at night, I would throw myself into an anxiety attack to for sure knock me out. This would go in spurts of frustration as my mom didn't know what to do, but to put me through tough love. I felt isolated I guess. As I have gotten older, my anxiety has grown with me. Everything links into another. I would be terrified to go to school, thinking I would have to go to the hospital. I just hate enclosed areas as such thinking I wouldn't be able to escape to pull myself together and so it wouldn't be as embarassing. There are so many "spurts" of my anxiety that I have struggled through, but there are a few that stick out that affected me the most.
5TH GRADE:
In the mornings, I would go to my grandma's house so she could take me to school. I would be left alone for about half an hour so she could go take care of her aunt in town. I had been left alone quite a lot before as she left, but one morning when she left she told me, "you may hear a banging noise downstairs, but it is just the dryer." Not thinking much of it, she left and I sat on the couch watching TV. Not too long after, I started to hear footsteps and out of panic stood by the garage door thinking if someone were to come up the stairs, I would dart out the door. After standing at the door for a while something snapped in the garage itself and I began to scream thinking someone was coming to get me. I ran down the stairs to the other door trying to get it unlocked, but it wouldn't unlock which scared me more. I kept looking up the stairs waiting for someone to be standing there. As I kept sobbing, my grandma had been on the other side of the door, after hearing my screams, trying to get in. Eventually she came through the garage door, thinking I was hurt, and tried to calm me down. Embarassed, I found out something had just broke in the garage and no one had broke in..however, from that day, I was stubborn to believe somene had tried to break in. My mom felt awful at first for how scared I was, but she thought I would of gotten over it..as usual, my mom thought wrong. My mom used the same tough love and would spend days yelling at me to get over it. From that morning on, I obviously went with my grandma to take care of her aunt, and I still didn't want to be in the house as she was there. I thought someone was literally going to break in again. I made up excuses to go outside and play..just as long as I wasn't inside. Even at home, I would sit under the kitchen table with a bat and refuse to move. I only did this when my mom wasn't home. With my older brother and sister home, I didn't feel safe. I had to pick a point in the house where I was aware of my surroundings and close enough to a door outside. From that day on, besides still being terminally embarassed, I have become more comfortable with staying home by myself, but not to the point where I can overnight if my parents were to go out. If they do, I sit in the same chair where I can see the rest of the house and where I am still by a door.
8TH GRADE:
Entering the 8th grade was entering hell's gates. I was going on a record of no worries, and then it slowly started to pull me back. The wheels started turning in my Anxiety brain and I thought I was going to have a heart attack and I grew hysterical. I would go to the nurse and fake sick to go home repetedly and my mom would be furious and told me to get over myself. So I resolved to a new plan of safety. I would wake up in the morning and get ready as my mom was and waited until everyone left to call my grandma and say that mom forgot to call me in sick again, could you please do it for me. She was curious, don't get me wrong, but back then they thought I had arthritis in my hips so I used it to my advantage with her. So during the day I would sit at home in my own pathetic skin, feeling the most guilt of lying to everyone and letting myself drown. I became a hermit and most of my friends left me. I felt hopless and that I wanted to be homeschooled, or anything to stay away from school. Nothing was turning itself around as I was falling back in school tremedously, so I looked for a therapist online and found a local one. I knew my mom wouldn't think of it, so I wrote her a letter telling her the truth and saying I needed it. Hesitantly, she agreed. My first day of therapy, I was given the most hope and courage than I ever thought possible. Someone understood me. My life was slowly being lit back into my eyes. I was put on medication at the end of my course and have been on it for the past three years to where it has extinguished my fear of not being able to breath...but like I said..one thing links to another.
HIGH SCHOOL:
I began high school with more grace than I thought I was capable of and adapted quickly with no issues. Later in the school year, my best friend that had grown up with me and knew me more than anyone else, and accepted me, grew onto someone else...it hasn't affected me more than it has today by the feeling of loneliness impacting me more.
I made a new friend later and he became my first boyfriend. I didn't know how to feel or exactly act because it happened so fast and girls like me don't draw much attention. Like most relationships, I walked into my first with insecurities, maybe more than the average person. But as I know now, he didn't care at all..about me. On our first date we went somewhere to eat with his family and I became sick and vomitted a couple times, thinking it was the food...very humiliating. The next day when I went back to school, I walked with him a little bit before class and got sick again, thinking it was food poisoning. Over time my mind must of began to think irrational thoughts and every time I saw him at school or out of it I would have the urge to puke to make myself feel better and more relaxed from how it tore me up. He knew of it, but didn't say much. To not waste time on the story of him, he ended up using me and not even loving me at all..so I wasted 4 months puking my guts out to make it work and to be a normal person. Now my main issue, topping my extreme self conciousness, is when I'm around any boy I may think is cute, I get that urge. And I think I will always just be scared of being humiliated of having an anxiety attack in class and having to run out if I think I'm going to puke.
These things I can talk myself out of by really focusing, but I'm stuck in time to where I can't move forward with being a better person and just to grow up and be self sufficient. I'm in glue with who I am and can't get out to find me and on this route, I don't know if anyone can ever love me, or whoever this person is, when I can't snap out of being so self centered to fall in love with someone else that actually understands me and won't leave. I just want to be a normal teenager and live my life.
Thank you for listening.
Here we go...
When I was one years old my parents officially divorced and my mom gained full custody of my older brother, sister, and I. I never really knew the difference of my surroundings and just learned to adapt to my new "families." Endlessly, I have tried to trace back the reasons why I am the way I am today, and always include the dramatic seperation of my family as an influence. I've always obtained a lonely feeling and maybe it's not having my real father live with me as a male figure. Who will ever know.
Out of my step parents my stepmother is the one who has manipulated me. Since she met me at the age of 5, she would always judge me, and my sister and brother, and say that certain things about our lives weren't good enough and that it was miserable. I grew utterly inferior of her and would feel completely uncomfortable around her. I don't know if that was a link to why I've always tried to change myself, or whatever I'm made of, to recieve affection by someone else. There's so many possible links that I ponder about that all of it has become an annoying blur.
I don't recall being anxious before the one day I can always say was my first break down. I was at my dad's house in the living room by the couch as they were watching a movie together, "The Silence of the Lambs", and for some reason, I cannot remember, I thought I was going to stop breathing and die. I tried to sit on my dad's lap and he asked what I was doing and I just started crying out of fear and didn't want him to let me go. From that point on my excessive thoughts kicked in and I was a stone of terror that couldn't be broke into back to my careless self. The little girl that loved to play. I would sit in my room and cry not understanding what was wrong with me and everyone else just thought it was a phase. No one in my family has ever had such an..issue. I would focus on my breathing to make sure that I didn't stop and would make myself sick over it and turned into a zombie that didn't know anything else but the feeling of doom. To make myself go to sleep at night, I would throw myself into an anxiety attack to for sure knock me out. This would go in spurts of frustration as my mom didn't know what to do, but to put me through tough love. I felt isolated I guess. As I have gotten older, my anxiety has grown with me. Everything links into another. I would be terrified to go to school, thinking I would have to go to the hospital. I just hate enclosed areas as such thinking I wouldn't be able to escape to pull myself together and so it wouldn't be as embarassing. There are so many "spurts" of my anxiety that I have struggled through, but there are a few that stick out that affected me the most.
5TH GRADE:
In the mornings, I would go to my grandma's house so she could take me to school. I would be left alone for about half an hour so she could go take care of her aunt in town. I had been left alone quite a lot before as she left, but one morning when she left she told me, "you may hear a banging noise downstairs, but it is just the dryer." Not thinking much of it, she left and I sat on the couch watching TV. Not too long after, I started to hear footsteps and out of panic stood by the garage door thinking if someone were to come up the stairs, I would dart out the door. After standing at the door for a while something snapped in the garage itself and I began to scream thinking someone was coming to get me. I ran down the stairs to the other door trying to get it unlocked, but it wouldn't unlock which scared me more. I kept looking up the stairs waiting for someone to be standing there. As I kept sobbing, my grandma had been on the other side of the door, after hearing my screams, trying to get in. Eventually she came through the garage door, thinking I was hurt, and tried to calm me down. Embarassed, I found out something had just broke in the garage and no one had broke in..however, from that day, I was stubborn to believe somene had tried to break in. My mom felt awful at first for how scared I was, but she thought I would of gotten over it..as usual, my mom thought wrong. My mom used the same tough love and would spend days yelling at me to get over it. From that morning on, I obviously went with my grandma to take care of her aunt, and I still didn't want to be in the house as she was there. I thought someone was literally going to break in again. I made up excuses to go outside and play..just as long as I wasn't inside. Even at home, I would sit under the kitchen table with a bat and refuse to move. I only did this when my mom wasn't home. With my older brother and sister home, I didn't feel safe. I had to pick a point in the house where I was aware of my surroundings and close enough to a door outside. From that day on, besides still being terminally embarassed, I have become more comfortable with staying home by myself, but not to the point where I can overnight if my parents were to go out. If they do, I sit in the same chair where I can see the rest of the house and where I am still by a door.
8TH GRADE:
Entering the 8th grade was entering hell's gates. I was going on a record of no worries, and then it slowly started to pull me back. The wheels started turning in my Anxiety brain and I thought I was going to have a heart attack and I grew hysterical. I would go to the nurse and fake sick to go home repetedly and my mom would be furious and told me to get over myself. So I resolved to a new plan of safety. I would wake up in the morning and get ready as my mom was and waited until everyone left to call my grandma and say that mom forgot to call me in sick again, could you please do it for me. She was curious, don't get me wrong, but back then they thought I had arthritis in my hips so I used it to my advantage with her. So during the day I would sit at home in my own pathetic skin, feeling the most guilt of lying to everyone and letting myself drown. I became a hermit and most of my friends left me. I felt hopless and that I wanted to be homeschooled, or anything to stay away from school. Nothing was turning itself around as I was falling back in school tremedously, so I looked for a therapist online and found a local one. I knew my mom wouldn't think of it, so I wrote her a letter telling her the truth and saying I needed it. Hesitantly, she agreed. My first day of therapy, I was given the most hope and courage than I ever thought possible. Someone understood me. My life was slowly being lit back into my eyes. I was put on medication at the end of my course and have been on it for the past three years to where it has extinguished my fear of not being able to breath...but like I said..one thing links to another.
HIGH SCHOOL:
I began high school with more grace than I thought I was capable of and adapted quickly with no issues. Later in the school year, my best friend that had grown up with me and knew me more than anyone else, and accepted me, grew onto someone else...it hasn't affected me more than it has today by the feeling of loneliness impacting me more.
I made a new friend later and he became my first boyfriend. I didn't know how to feel or exactly act because it happened so fast and girls like me don't draw much attention. Like most relationships, I walked into my first with insecurities, maybe more than the average person. But as I know now, he didn't care at all..about me. On our first date we went somewhere to eat with his family and I became sick and vomitted a couple times, thinking it was the food...very humiliating. The next day when I went back to school, I walked with him a little bit before class and got sick again, thinking it was food poisoning. Over time my mind must of began to think irrational thoughts and every time I saw him at school or out of it I would have the urge to puke to make myself feel better and more relaxed from how it tore me up. He knew of it, but didn't say much. To not waste time on the story of him, he ended up using me and not even loving me at all..so I wasted 4 months puking my guts out to make it work and to be a normal person. Now my main issue, topping my extreme self conciousness, is when I'm around any boy I may think is cute, I get that urge. And I think I will always just be scared of being humiliated of having an anxiety attack in class and having to run out if I think I'm going to puke.
These things I can talk myself out of by really focusing, but I'm stuck in time to where I can't move forward with being a better person and just to grow up and be self sufficient. I'm in glue with who I am and can't get out to find me and on this route, I don't know if anyone can ever love me, or whoever this person is, when I can't snap out of being so self centered to fall in love with someone else that actually understands me and won't leave. I just want to be a normal teenager and live my life.
Thank you for listening.