Ongoing Battle

Might as well start off from the beginning. when i was 6 or 7 i started pulling my hair out and was diagnosed with trichitillomania. after several years of going to child & youth therapists, getting constantly teased in school and almost always wearing a hat. i finally stopped. don't ask me how, i honestly dont remember. time is a funny thing, it can make you forget so much. looking back at my childhood, it seems like a huge blur, but i can remember certain things with absolute clarity. one thing is that whenever i had a cut or scrape, i would always pick it. my mom would constantly tell me "dont pick! itll turn into a scar." but i didn't care, i still did it. once my battle with hair pulling came to an end, the next few years were not so bad. from what i remember, i was a mostly happy and normal little girl. aside from the fact that i was always somewhat eccentric and "different" then the other kids, it seems i have always been a little strange.  when i was 12 i started middle school, and i was desperatly trying to find/ and create myself. i went through what some might call an "emo" phase. wearing black and eyeliner, listening to goth and heavy metal bands. my friends thought i was attention seeking and it was just a passing trend. but the truth is, i was trying to find a way to match my outter appearance and the way i acted with how i really felt inside. maybe i was seeking attention in a way, i have always been loud and expressive with my opinions. but i think i just wanted someone to see how i was feeling. i slipped into a deep and dark depression, going day by day like a zombie and not really caring about anything. i started cutting my wrists and other parts of my body to feel something, and to punish myself for being so weak. my friends started to notice and thought it was disturbing and that i should stop, but once again asumed it was a way to seek attention. no one seemed to notice how i was showing less and less interest in school, activities i used to love and everythiong in general. i even stopped talking so much, wich is very abnormal for me indeed. for weeks all i could think about was a way to end the sadness i had felt for so long, and i could honestly think of only one sulotion. i didnt talk to anyone about it so i didnt know there could have been help for me, but it seemed no one really cared or would take me seriously anyways. so i planned my suicide. and one day i finally went throuh with it, i wrote a note to my mom and took all the pills i could find in the bathroom cabinet, and then sliced a long deep gash from my wrist to my elbow and waited to die in the bathtub. looking back, it was a pathetic attempt. i didnt even hit a vein or take pills that would cause immediate death. my mom came home from  work and found me passed out, and drove me to the hospital. i hated myself so much, i was so pathetic that i couldnt even kill myself properly. after that, i was diagnosed with MDD (major depressive disorder, or reocurring depressive disorder) and tried taking prozac and other antidepressents. when i was 13 going on 14, i entered highschool and was introduced to drugs like ecstacy and weed. i smoked weed all the time and did mdma on a regular basis. so i stopped taking my medications, which in my opinion didnt help much anyways. i think thats when i started having problems again, because i was constantly being kicked out of my house for disobeying the rules and skipping school. i got a hold on my drug problem and my life started to seem normal again, i moved into my dads house who i had not known for alot of my life and it didnt end up being a good place for me to live. that is when i think i started picking. not that i hadnt been doing it on and off when id get a scab.. but i noticed that my scabs took a long time to go away and i had many scars on my legs. and now i am 16 years old, will be 17 in a month. i have long, healthy hair and i am covered in scars and scabs. it seems like once i win a battle with the demons that are inside, new ones come out of nowhere. i have huge scabs that are more like scar tissue on my face because i have picked them relentlessly for weeks and weeks, attempting to make covering them up with pounds of makeup easier. but its starting to be summer, the daylight hours are longer and the bright shine of the sun in not kind to my appearance. i am scared of leaving the house. going in the store for five minutes or riding the bus for 15 is like going to hell and back for me. the most difficult thing is, besides my mental illness i am a seemingly normal 16 year old girl. i have suprisingly, alot of friends. i used to have tons and tons of friends, i used to go out and drink and party and just have a good time. but now, this disgusting embarassing habit that has turned into an addiction has taken a grip on my life and left me with a circle of close girlfriends, that until today had no idea how serious the situation was. but i couldnt keep it inside any longer, i wake up every day and go straight to the mirror. and pick and peel and sometimes use a safety pin to "get rid of" for the time being, the sores on my face, in hopes of leaving the house to go hang out with my friends. i usually dont. unless my mom drives to a friends house and we stay inside the whole afternoon, i dont go anywhere or do anything. and it seems that more and more my friends are talking about summer and the excitement of how it will be. as they discuss being tanned and going to the lake wearing bikinis, getting a job and meeting cute boys all i can think is.. how the **** am i supposed to even wear shorts? i havent been to school in so long. i used to get good grades, and was told i could go far in life. but how can i go far when i cant even leave the house? i want so much for myself and my life, to have a job, a car, graduate.. find love. but i cant even think of those things until i have strength to heal myself. tomorow i stop picking. i told my friends i wotn see them for a week or longer, and to everyone else who has no idea about my disorder i told i am going on a trip with my mom. so here it goes guys, no makeup, no picking.. and hopefully the light at the end of the tunnel will be enough to motivate me to stop doing this to myself. i think the worst thing for me, is the knowledge that i ALONE am the one that is causing this distress in my life. but, that being said. what you can create, you can destroy. no one else is going to do this for me, so i have to. i keep reading stories from people all over that are going through similair things. it gives me a peace of mind knowing i am not alone, i am not crazy for doing this.. wich where thoughts that plauged me for so long. but at the same time it scares me, because there are people in thier forties who have not conquered this ongoing battle. i have hope however, that i will be able to. im lucky, i have a mother who loves and supports me in this completely and is willing to do anything to help my get through this, and i have amazing friends that i would have never thought would understand. so that is more or less my story, and i hope that it gives someone out there like me reassurance that 1. you are not alone in this 2. if you let them, people can help you and atleast try and understand. 3. maybe we can beat this thing! can we atleast try? FIGHT THIS ONGOING BATTLE WITH ME -love from Brooke
BrookeMills BrookeMills
18-21, F
May 11, 2012