My Life Story #1

It's 2:17 in the morning right now, and well I finally feel ready to talk about one of the more personal things in my life. I love the night, it literally gives you the confidence to do so much more. It turns your dreams into reality, and microscopic projects, into Manhattan Project look alikes. But I digress, I've already talked about this before, and instead turn now to a more sensitive subject, my history with social anxiety. To fully explain my history with different mental illness' I first need to give a background. My parents got divorced when I was very young, to the point that the only thing I remember about the day that they told me, and my brothers, was the couch I was sitting on, and that I thought it was really cool that I had two houses now. This caused an interesting situation, because instead of really feeling the effects when right when they got divorced, I would say that I started to be affected by it when I was in my last year of preschool/first year of kindergarten. The next thing that occurred was that my father got remarried when I was in 3rd grade, bringing into my family my stepmother, and stepbrother, who is 2 years older then me. The last background information that I think is vital for this story is that even without any of this happening, I was already going to have needed help. I had many issues which I am fairly confident, did not originate from these events, but instead were just amplified.

My fight with social anxiety, which I would quickly like to state I have no means conquered fully, in any way, was extreme, and if I can put it bluntly, in my completely non professional opinion, created an almost multi personality like situation in my life. While my memory is very hazy in the times before the divorce, based off of the limited bit I remember, and the stories I have heard, I can safely say that I was not a very good kid in the traditional sense. I would throw tantrums almost all of the times, and I was incredibly defiant to the point my parents put the locks on my bedroom door on the outside, allowing them to literally lock me in my room. What was so interesting about this was that in my preschool classes, all of my teachers would tell my parents how well behaved I was, and how I was such a good person. After the divorce, during the time where I don't think I quite understood what it was, my behavior remained fairly the same.

From 1st grade to around 3rd grade is the time where I would say the actual divorce, and its effect kicked in. During this time I became, increasingly different at home, compared to when I was in a public space like school. In school during this time I was very quiet, very well behaved, and would basically try to be perfect. At home I was quite the opposite, with increasing fights with my brothers, and at the same time with my parents. I also believe, though I may have the time frame slightly messed up, that this was the first time I was enrolled in therapy. I had Dr. Glaser and while I remember him quite a bit less then my future therapist, I do distinctly remember the one thing I liked about having to go to him, was that when it was over I got to go to Einstein's Bagels, and get a pizza bagel.

What was important about this first therapy time period, was not only the therapy, but an event that took place when I went to a friends house. I think I was in third grade, but one of my friends was having a group of 3-4 people come over, but I had, as I called it "a feelings doctor appointment" before school ended, so I had to come later. This was nothing unusal, but not using the words of an elementary student, my mom had told the parent that I had a doctors appointment, and that was why I was coming late. As I got out of the car to walk into my friends house, the parent was there to walk in with me. We were chatting on the way in, and then they asked me "how was your doctor's appointment", I responded by telling them I had a feelings doctor, and it was good. What the big effect was that after I said feelings doctor they just kind of went silent, and we walked into their house with no more talking. Now I do not know if they went silent because of this, or some other reason, but either way the effect was the same. This was the first, and I think only time I felt alienated, or weird about going to therapy. The reason that it was the only time, was that after this occurred, I did not talk to anyone outside of my direct family about going to therapy. I went through strides to keep it a secret, always saying I had a dentist, orthodontist, doctors, or any other appointment when ever I would be taken out of school. I'm 100% sure this parent meant no harm in what they did, but the side effects of the event effectively lasted until, well now when I am talking about it.

This is going to be the first post in a series, and while I am writing this at 2 in the morning, I will not be scheduling the posting time for this until later, so I can make sure I'm not crazy right now. Thank you for reading this, have an epic day, and be ready for more installments to come.