so i guess this would be the most important place to start! i always get told that i have a pretty elaborate memory, so if you find any of the details questionable, keep in mind that i do remember all of these events very clearly! i could probably go on and on explaining how i found out that i had anxiety, but ill just brush over the basics in a messy bulleted list, just incase you think you might have anxiety or you have anxiety, because i'd love to find more people who experience the same things as me- because i still occasionally feel alone to this day!
-by age 5, i was avoiding the nurses office at my elementary school, as i knew sick people went there- it got to the point where i would bawl and refuse whenever i was asked to visit the nurse, whether it was for a lice head check or if it was just to get a bandaid! i started therapy, and i don't remember much, but i do remember that my therapist made me draw some not so flattering pictures of the school nurse. i don't know what that helped with, but it did provide some comic relief, as im sure my messy, confusing, "what even is this" drawings done with a box of crayola crayons gave my therapist something to laugh at amongst my anxiety-fueled babbling!
-by age 7, i was getting ill before school. i won't get into details because that's a little too far, but i got all different types of sickness having to do with my stomach, yet worst of all, i would violently and uncontrollably gag minutes before school and during the first hour of school. im not really sure about this one, but i think this is where my first true panic attack took place- and then they continued to take place over and over again, but somehow, my panic seemed to magically disappear on weekends, much to the confusion of my parents! i learned at age 12 that this is called school refusal, and no, it's not that kind of refusal that those cut up weed smoking cutting class type of kids do, it's refusal fueled by anxiety, accompanied by crying, panic, and physical sickness. so you could say elementary school was a blast for me.. (all sarcasm aside, despite my anxiety, i did end up having a pretty rockin time in K-4, i was a super happy kid!)
-by age 11, i had started middle school, and in fifth grade i was (embarrassingly) crying that i "missed my mom"- which i know now was the result of repeated panic attacks, as i felt safe whenever i was with my mom. yet still, i acted like a trooper, because the last thing my fifth grade peace sign throwing Aeropostale wearing self would ever want to happen is have anyone think im a cry baby.
-by age 12, i had my first bout of intrusive thoughts. by definition, intrusive thoughts are unwanted thoughts of disturbing content (violent, sexual, immoral) brought on by obsessive compulsive disorder. i was sitting in 6th grade english class, reading some book (i don't quite remember which book) and suddenly, a huge wave of panic came over me. i felt dizzy, my throat got tight, and my head was racing, and my first obsession was born: self harm. now let me get this clear, because self harm is a serious thing: i have never self harmed, nor have i ever had a real intention to. now that that's off the table, let me expand. these intrusive thoughts (as you would imagine) were so horrifying to me. i saw images of myself slitting my wrists with knives in my kitchen, i had repeated thoughts of self harm, and i began to avoid anything sharp as i was so afraid that i would hurt myself. as hard as i tried, i couldn't shake these thoughts. i tried everything that my little sixth grade self could do, yet i reached no success in getting rid of the thoughts. finally, i told my mom what was going on, and she understood completely, being that both OCD and anxiety run strongly on her side of the family- hence why i have it! i noticed that these thoughts disappeared around April, and i was delighted to be back to myself again. and gasp- in may i contracted the stomach flu, my first time since a really young age, and believe it or not, it wasn't horrible. it actually cured my emetephobia for a whole, and those 24 hours of flu torture were pretty worth the absence of my emetephobia for a few weeks.
-by age 14, i was in 8th grade! i was the "big kid on campus"- i was in love with everything having to do with 8th grade, i had a huge group of friends, and i found myself having a really good time. yet this is when i first started to socially withdrawal. it's not that i didn't want to hang out with my friends, i found myself to be WAY too anxious going out of the house, so i kind of just gave up. my friends noticed, and they constantly begged me to come hang out with them more, and i tried, I really did, but i never found myself having a really good time with no anxiety. I experienced a majority of panic attacks at friends houses, and that was the end of that. my friends gradually stopped inviting me places, but they did still talk to me. i don't blame them, because if someone said no to me every time I asked them to hang out, i wouldn't invite them places either! as winter rolled around, i remember that i was waiting on a train platform with my friends on our way to NYC, and i got this horrid thought. it told me to jump in front of the train. i immeadiately stepped back from the tracks and launched myself into a complete panic, as i didn't know why this thought came out of nowhere, because in no way was i suicidal. anyways, i spent the rest of my day in the city ruminating over why i got that nasty thought instead of enjoying myself. i continued to have these thoughts over and over again during the winter, and i was often late to school because i was crying over how overwhelming they were, as i didn't get what they were. i had no reason to die, i didn't want to die, yet i was always thinking about death, even though i didn't want to. i started talk therapy again, but it barely helped. the therapist was lovely, but focusing on my anxiety didn't help, and i wasn't readily eager to share my vulgar intrusive thoughts with my therapist.
-by age 15, I was in high school! the first two months went great, and i seriously had little to no anxiety until november. i was missing a lot of class due to my frequent visits to the nurse (quite ironic, as i used to be terrified of the nurse) because in 7th grade, i had started my compulsion of repeatedly visiting the nurse. the nurse would always get mad at me, confused as to why i constantly complained of nausea- which i understand completely, because she probably thought i was trying to skip class! anyways, it got really bad by the end of november. winter was rolling around once again, and so was my anxiety, but worse than ever. my parents cracked and made the final decision to force me to take a medication for my anxiety. their intentions were the best, but ive never had a more miserable experience in my life. i visited a doctor who prescribed me zoloft after asking me only 2 or 3 questions, and then misdiagnosing me with panic disorder. I started with 20mg (a subtheraputic dose) of zoloft, and only after 12 hours of the medicine entering my system, I was considerably worse. the worsening of my symptoms might've been partly my fault, as I had spent a full day googling the possible side effects of zoloft for teens (another mental compulsion) and I had discovered that zoloft can cause suicidal thoughts in teens, so of course, this spooked me, and my previously dormant OCD was once again off to the races. i started the medication on the first day of Christmas break, and i ended up sleeping a total of 15 hours at the most the whole break! i suffered from a weird buzzing sensation in my brain, a loss of appetite, weight loss (15 pounds!), depression (which I have no history of), insomnia, nausea, severe depersonilization, and worst of all, suicidal thoughts. my worst nightmare came true, and im not sure whether or not I caused this myself, but I experienced REAL suicidal thoughts, and i ended up spending Christmas break crying daily in bed. i couldn't eat, i couldn't sleep, and i spent christmas day in my bed. i have never been so furious with my parents in my life, and i know that i was throwing myself a pity party, but the medicine truly took my life on a turn for the worst. i was having constant feelings of depersonilization which led to my new obsessions over schizophrenia, psychosis, and "going crazy"- all of which I know are typical of OCD, yet they still took over my life. i had a few episodes on the medication where i could've swore (and i still think this) that i was going crazy, and deep down, i know I wasn't, but I felt such a severe indescribable feeling in my mind, and it drove me to constant panic attacks. after 3 weeks of torture, i thankfully convinced my parents to take me off the medicine, as they were starting to notice how severely impacted I was by the medicine as well. i was no longer goofily skipping around my house singing fall out boy and smiling, I was now bedridden and crying each day. and god, i also looked like death. i was noticeably a lot skinnier and some of my closest friends actually approached me thinking I had developed anorexia, plus I was a lot more pale than I normally am and my eyes were constantly bloodshot. ugh, it was miserable. anyways, I feel as if I've been rambling about this portion of my life for way too long, and i most likely sound absolutely crazy by now! to sum it all up, in the winter of 9th grade, i found a new CBT specialist who helped a lot (i still go to him now!), begged my parents to take me to the hospital because I was so scared of going crazy, missed a bunch of school, and ended up pretty depressed about my situation.
since my fingers are starting to hurt from typing, ill stop at 9th grade for now! it's 12:30 am, so I should probably head to bed, but i know that ill probably just end up on my phone until 3am.. whatever, ill talk to you guys soon!
**DISCLAIMER: that must sound so crazy to someone who doesn't have OCD or anxiety, so I apologize!***
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