Mental Health

Hey all,

I’ve seen a lot of these types if posts and I want to share my story. Firstly I wanna say I’m sorry for my lack of activity. There’s a lot been happening but that’s for another day.

Read on for my story.

At the age of 9 I was diagnosed as anorexic. I’ve always been extremely tall for my age. By that age I was roughly 5ft 8″/9″ and I remember very clearly that by my 10th birthday I was dead on 5ft 10″.

At 5ft 9″ I was a UK size 6 or 8, and I only went up to a size 12 when I was in secondary school.  At 9 I was worried about how I looked and what I weighed. I would skip meals during the day, throw out my lunch into the trash when nobody was looking and do my best to not eat breakfast.

I was being bullied by the time I was 7 and looking back I think it was the only thing I could control about my life as I felt I had nothing else I could control.  When I went to my teachers about being bullied I was either told to suck it up and ignore it as it was “only name calling” (like being called fat and a beanpole, thick, a sad fat fuck etc) or they talked to the bullies in front of me and it made it all ten times worse. I remember vividly we were doing some experiment of some sort anf it required us to be in a dark pitch black closet then out in bright light. While shut in the closet onenof the boys kicked me so I hard I still have a dent in my shin. The bruise was the size of half an orange and was as black as the light in the closet for weeks.

I moved schools when I was 11 after being pinned down by three boys and beaten by another followed by (stay with me here) my pinky toe on right foot got broken, the skin was cut and it got terribly infected. I was close to losing my toe. I had five weeks off school and when I got back it was like not knowing anyone. Nobody would talk to me and the head mistress told my parents I was the demon child spawned in hell.

I moved to another school and it wasn’t as bad but there was still name calling and of course I was a skinny beanpole with frizzy hair and big glasses. I was an instant target.

I was only there 8 or 10 months as I had issues with the head teacher who took an instant dislike to me.  Mum home schooled me for the remainder of the school year and then I moved on to secondary school in 1997 when I was 11.

This was hell for me. From start to finish in 2002 it was hell. Again I was the target because of my big glasses and frizzy hair. I was completely flat chested and I always had to try and be little miss perfect.

I was never teacher’s pet.

I hated maths but loved English.  I hated German and never applied myself to it as I didn’t see why I would need it. The Maths tutor hated me with a passion. I’m still sure she was an alcoholic transsexual who was just jealous because I had a more feminine figure.  Whenever I needed help I wouldnt get it, the amount of times she threw me out of class is into double figures and of course if it was my last class of the day, I’d never hang around I’d just leave. I only ever went to two detentions and then realised there was no reason to them. Especially as it was bringing me more problems.

I was 14 when I was diagnosed as depressed. Of course the school had “No idea why” as I was a “happy child”. I had learned rather fast that telling anyone what I was going through woukd lead to more problems and I did get beaten up on a regular basis.

I was 15 when I started fighting back. By then I’d had four broken noses, broken fingers, four lots of concussion, hair ripped out, busted lips, a fractured eye socket, a bruised kidney ….. do I need to go on?

I have a vivid memory of pinning a girl to the wall outside the art block. She’d been spreading rumours about me and I was sick of it because of course kids were believing them.  She grabbed my hand and bent two fingers back. I pinned her against the wall by her throat. I don’t remember much from that however I do remember being pulled off her by two teachers when she was going purple.  Even though she broke my fingers and I only retaliated I was the one who got suspended for a week.

I was always the one suspended.  None of the other kids were.

College was okay but I wasn’t there long because it wasn’t for me.

I was 19 when I was no longer classed as anorexic and that was only because the depo injection had made me gain weight. At the same time my medication was changed and I was diagnosed with anxiety.

That was around ten years ago. I’m 29 next month and I’m now classed as chronically depressed. Everything I went through has left me with mental scars that will probably never heal. I’m terrified of meeting new people because I’m always very self conscious about what they will say.

I’m so fucking lucky to have my amazing parents and I have put them through so much. With on the last two years we’ve discovered that I probably have multiple personalities. I have three voices I hear regularly. Snap, Crackle and Pop.  If I’m high or drunk one or all of them come out and it depends on my frame of mind as to which and how.

I’m telling you this because I’m not ashamed of my mental illness and nobody should be. We need to talk about mental health like we do dental health. We need to get rid of the stigma attached to having a mental health issue.

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