This is my third retry on this topic. I went off on different subjects and it distracted from the whole point; so I shall try and do this properly this time.
Let's start from the beginning. On the 3-month anniversary of my 5th birthday (December 14th, 2006) I got an early Christmas present: genetics. Prior to 12-14-06, I was a happy-go-lucky kid. Loved everyone, told strangers they were pretty, gave compliments without a second thought, ate healthy, hated sweets, full of erudition and amity. But you can't run from you're genes, can you? It's inside you. It was inside you from before you were even born; before you were even a thought. I guess it's where the rest of my illness came from. I'm sure it was that one genealogical disease that caused more to pile on. That disease was Type 1 Diabetes.
A year passed, and it was time to start Kindergarten. Kids at school made fun of me for being diabetic. Calling me 'fat', and 'sugar-mouth', and other harsh names (or at least to a 5 year old). One of the worst kids, not the worst but one of the really bad ones- he has diabetes now. So I guess I got the last laugh? Sorry, that was a bit off topic.
Kids told me to just eat my problems away- because that's what I did before, right? I don't understand why it was me that had to go through with it. Why me? I had done absolutely nothing wrong. I ate healthy, I was kind, I was intelligent, I was ambitious- why did I have to go through with this? Why did I have to get bullied for something I didn't choose to have? Why was I even left with the burden of diabetes?
I didn't let it show though. Granted, I burst out crying the second I got through the doors of my house; but I was just fine to everybody else. Too happy, teachers always commented. That's because I changed the voices instead. I made them say nice things instead of the horrid things children should never hear at school. I went to school to feel safe- to block out my home life. I won't go into detail about that; but let's just say me and my mom don't talk all too often.. In fact, we basically avoid each other in the walls of our own home.
This lead to another present. Any words at all started to change. Kind words turned back into the horrid ones I was trying to escape. I sat alone at my lunch table; fearing that any words at all would be wrong and I would look like an idiot and stupid and a liar and unlovable. I started to escape into my own world, not on purpose; it would just happen. I dreamed of happier times, heroic times, adventurous times; I was basically stuck in a fictional dream world in my head. I thought this was because of my crippling insomnia, but it was actually a mental disorder.
There's a name for that disorder: Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder. On my therapy record, it says in notes I don't mind the rain. Simple things will fade away, one day. I'd just like a heads up before a tornado or hurricane or tsunami is blown up at me. And I said some other things that I do not wish to disclose.
After years on a social media website, www.quotev.com, I learned more about who I was and where my mind was. I vented, I ranted, I learned, I coped, I helped; and I made friendships. But, sadly, all lives were meant to end and now I have a friend who ended with cigarettes and and O.D. of pills and another without a head.
I struggled with Body Dismorphic Disorder. I starved and binged and purged and I took diet pills- and one time, I forced my diabetes to help me. I ate so much sugar, didn't give myself a shot, didn't check my finger- I knew I was going to die. It was the easy way, wasn't it? Taking advantage of another sickness you had? At the hospital, they diagnosed me with depression, suicidal tendencies, and anxiety. The doctors also noticed I had self harm scars all over my arms and legs. This was in November 2014. My family has yet to get me help; as "getting a therapist is useless. What can they do that we can't?" How about listen? How about not be a judgmental shit? How about keep your youngest child alive because all you've ever done was make her hate herself? How about perscribe me medicine so I'm safe in my own mind for a little bit?
I can't go any further, because that unlock a part of my mind that I keep sealed up for a reason; and I'm already crying so...I'm sorry for this extremely depressing post. I'll try and lighten up the mood next time. ~Chessi
