So, from an early age my parents knew that there was something not right with me, I was taken to a specialist doctor for children with mental illness for assessments, they couldn’t find anything wrong with me so they dismissed me, and my parents dismissed their fears that I was abnormal.

Then as I grew a little older, around six, I had some odd traits around the house and school. I never liked change, for instance if a school subject changed I would completely freak out and ignore the fact it had and carry on with what ever I was doing in the first place. As you can imagine the teachers would come and try to get me to change with the other children, and that is when i became aggressive. I bit, I kicked, I threw every tantrum move that I knew of because to me change was this horrible things that ruins everything, to this day I still understand why.

My parents fears came back, they got worse as I aged. At the age of around eleven I grew incredibly depressed and I couldn’t do the normal things that children that age would do. I started self harming, I’d scratch the skin off of my wrist and legs until I would pass out from the pain. I still don’t know why i started self harming but it was a downward spiral from there.

My anger was so bad that most of the time if I got into an ‘episode’ I would have to be sedated, because I was a danger to myself and those around me. This made me self harm more, because I felt so guilty for so many things. Scaring my family, making their lives hell.

A couple of years on, ten years after seeking help, I was finally diagnosed with Pathological Demanding Avoidance Syndrome. I felt so let down by the specialists that I saw, they are supposed to make sure there is nothing wrong before completely dismissing a patient. I always thought that if I had been diagnosed earlier I could have not self harmed, got more help and be able to keep it under control. This is the complete opposite of what I deal with to this day. I can’t control the anger, the depression or the self harming.

Though, after all of this, I decided that however hard I try that I can never change who I am or my past. Accepting is the hardest things I have ever had to do, why would I want to accept the fact that I think that I’m a monster? I don’t. Because I’m not, I am me, and i am a beautiful me inside and out no matter what condition I have.

So, I thought that I would update anyone that actually reads this:

It’s been really tough these past couple of days, I’m not going to lie. I haven’t left the house for anything, the only daylight I see now a days is in my garden when I have cigarette. I go through these kind of like stages when I have to shut myself away from the entire planet. I barely let my mum see me. 

I was talking to an old friend the other day, she was reminding me of our time in a normal school together. It was good to reminisce for a while; but then I remembered a day that will bring me nightmares for the rest of my life:

It was a bad day, I had cut basically all night long on my legs, I found a pair of tights to hide it. At this point in time I was living with my Father because me and my mum had a row. As the friend that I walked to school with came in, I was crying on my bedroom floor all alone. Dad just said to her that I was upstairs getting ready, but he knew exactly what I was doing. I had just cut a small line in my arm when my friend came in. She called my Dad up to come and have a look at it and I went to do an even bigger one just to end all the pain. She knew what I was doing, he did too.   He went to get a coffee. He left me alone, with a razor blade, and my poor friend freaking out, he left us alone. me to die and her to watch. 

To this day it still haunts us both. My dad is still trying to build a relationship with me, I’m trying to go with it, not forgive him but to forget maybe just for a while. Yet tonight it all became too much, and I cut again, which I haven’t done in over a year. I feel so bad about doing it that  I really did think about ending it all. Every time I enter a room it’s so scary because I know that two thirds of the things in the room could be used in my suicide. 

I’m haunted and plagued by my memories, memories of my niece staring at me in horror as I had an “episode.” Police hauling me in from a top floor window. Paramedics trying to sedate me. Throwing a snow globe that only just missed my sisters head. 

These memories are always going to haunt me, forever and more. I’m kind of scared to go to sleep because I am so petrified by the memories that I on a regular basis I am woke up by my mum because I am screaming in my sleep. 

I really hope it’ll get better, because I don’t know how much longer I can last.

UPDATE:

So I thought I better update this as a lot has changed;

I went into a psychiatric unit for an assessment, and it was confirmed that I was to much of a danger to myself at the time to be allowed home, I was placed under the mental health act under section which meant I had to stay in the unit with permission to leave. For the first few weeks I didn’t talk, I didn’t eat or really do anything I just sat there. I felt so lonely without my family as they weren’t allowed to visit at the time. When I was at one of my lowest points a girl called Jess came in, she went on to be one of the best friends I think I will ever have. We dealt with our struggles together and didn’t feel too alone after that. She helped me realize that with a friend, we could get through this. In the unit I learnt a lot of things, a lot about myself and how my life was affecting me too much. The biggest help I had was from three of the support workers, Lauren, Andrew and Oli, Lauren would always come and support me and bring me cookies when she could see that I was down, Andrew became my little voice of reason, and Oli helped me to laugh again he helped me draw up plans of when I left and started thinking about my future which I didn’t think I would ever have or deserve. I am now out of the unit, and have been for about 2 months. It’s been hard, the transition from that place to my home, CAMHS didn’t give me much support for this but I did it. I still struggle and have an incredibly long way to go but for now I know that I can remember that I did that huge thing, and no one can take that away from me ever. I promise to try and update this more. but thank you for all the support that people have sent me. It is the best form of therapy I could ever wish for. I love all of you. Wish me luck for the road ahead.