~*Katie*~ (kyatto) wrote in hidden_diseases,
~*Katie*~
kyatto
hidden_diseases

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I don't even know what's wrong anymore.

Finally, a community where perhaps someone could understand what I deal with?

This rant stems from the fact that recently, my roommate (who I am by no means friendly with, especially now) told me off, stating that she believes I am making up all of my problems up because I "look fine to her". Yes. She's one of those people who think things can only be wrong if they look wrong on the outside. And all of this came up because I kept forgetting to wipe down a counter!

This all started when I was a kid, really. I hated other children. Why? Because I felt more grown up than them. At five I was convinced that all the people that surrounded me were stupid. Sure, I couldn't do advanced algebra, but I could already read chapter books. I could see things, do things, and offer decent opinions of them. I was aware of the outside world and simple childhood pleasures bored me. The teachers didn't know what to do other than try to get me to play or leave me alone.

Then in Elementary, once kids started to get a clue, they all noticed how odd I was. That's when the teasing start. My verbal retorts weren't absorbed due to their lack of understanding so my mind's only other option was violence. They brought out the teasing and snide remarks, I came back at them with punches, kicks, scratches, and bites. For a long time I had lunch in the Vice Principal's office because they feared I was too violent to play outside. When I was allowed outside, I would play in my imaginary world all by myself. Once or twice, a few other socially awkward imaginative children would join in my games, but eventually it grew too weird even for them.

In middle school I developed a fear of people. A strong one. I was at a loss as to how to properly interact with other humans. Other than a few girls I managed to befriend over a summer, I was practically mute at school. (I could still talk to my parents.) The more people stared and whispered and remarked, the more fearful I became. I was already put on medication to stop the violent urges. In turn it only made me go deeper into my shell. But at the time, my mother thought I was just ADD.

Then in high school the pain came. I got awful headaches. Sometimes so bad, voices came with them. The pain so blinding I'd hear a voice telling me to smash my head open so I could end it all. I would hallucinate during the onsets of pain. See things. I had been hospitalized several times, put on all kinds of medications, and could no longer attend regular high school. Sometimes the pain was so bad it seemed like my nervous system would shut down. Twice I had been nearly paralyzed and unable to move out of bed. Seizures came every so often. The doctor said I had migraines. Everything else was to require further study. ADD + migraines? *Great*.

I was 17 when my memory began betraying me. I could remember the odd detail or things that happened in my past. But the every day things started to slip by me. Take in the mail, clean up something, eat. I only remembered to use the restroom because it hurt if I didn't. I'd want to shower one minute but then the next I'd forget to. It'd be weeks without bathing, days without food. Soon people realized something was amiss and would start prodding me, reminding me. It was annoying, but it worked.

Then the tolerance came. What was agonizing pain for another was almost pleasurable for me. Though I remembered pain from my childhood, once something pailful happened, nine times out of ten it was almost nothing. I got piercings (really enjoyed the ear cartilage), a tattoo (like a hot massage), I stopped feeling the injections at the hospital... I even started cutting myself because the pain felt good. I got third degree burns on my feet and barely felt them (this happened a month ago). I broke my ankle years ago and it was only an inconveniencing ache. I was more concerned about not being able to move it.

Voices started telling me to do things. Mostly to hurt myself. But the voices protected me. If someone hurt me, the voices so desperately wanted me to hurt them. They still do. But it seems some of my medication meant to control the headpain is also helping me keep them from fully controlling me. Which is good. I don't want to know what would happen if they were to have their way.

My sleep fluctuates. When I was younger I could stay up for days on end. Never sleep. Or sleep very little. It's still the same way. But when I do sleep, I CANNOT BE AWAKENED by anyone other than myself, or else the pain comes. (College is very miserable because of inconsiderate roommate. I wake up a lot in pain.)

Cue college. When I have sex with a significant other I have to have them hurt me because I cannot feel anything else. I haven't had any true happiness in years (I pretend to). I feel nothing but sadness and the occasional anger. The pain comes and goes, sometimes unbearable. I sleep with a waterbottle in case I get paralyzed so I don't dehydrate. (After all, my mother isn't around to make sure I don't die.) It takes a friend I made to get me to remember to eat, or else I'd nearly starve to death. (Pain is my reminder). (Said friend always vouches for this. She even jokes to other friends about how if she didn't remind me to eat, I wouldn't move.) The urge to kill myself has spiked and waned. (I thank my lucky stars for this friend every day. She is like my crutch. As is The Boy who I wish so desperately would be someone who can make the voices leave and ease m pain.) I still get the urges to hurt myself for pleasure. I still cannot remember mundane tasks. (I only remember my homework because that is a big part of why I am at college and FRIEND REMINDS ME.) It's just very miserable.

Even though I was hospitalized back in October after running 5 blocks to said hospital in screaming pain, Roommate doesn't believe me. Even though I buy food and it's hardly ever consumed. Even though she hardly sees me because my friend has made it her mission to keep an eye on me. Even though I walk by with cuts and scars. Because I can walk. I can talk. I get dressed and go to classes. I'm "fine". And I'm the worst person ever for not wiping down a counter. Right.

And for general reference, even now I am only diagnosed with migraines and ADD. Thought my neurologist and psychiatrist are going through my old records and are starting to think Autism. A second opinion also suggested the beginning onset of Schizophrenia (dear god I hope not). I hope I somehow get better. Roadblocks like my witch of a roommate aren't helping. *sigh*
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