Growing Up

Growing up I felt normal. I was always nervous something bad was going to happen, but I thought that’s how everyone felt. I never thought twice about it.

When I was 5, my dad got a new haircut. It was half an inch shorter than what he usually got and I didn’t like it. His hair didn’t look bad, but I didn’t like that he changed it. I cried and hid under my baby sister’s crib for hours.

When I was 6, my parents got a new comforter for their bed. I didn’t like that they changed it. I cried. I made them save the old one in a bag in the garage.

When I was 7, I always had to chew my food in weird ways. I had to alternate bites on each side of my mouth. If I didn’t switch off then I just felt weird. I didn’t like feeling weird.

When I was 10, I started playing a game before I went to bed. I had to choose 2 mantras of a possible three to tell my parents every night. I could choose, “See you tomorrow” or “Have a good night” or “I love you.” I always chose “See you tomorrow” and I would alternate between the other two. I felt if I didn’t say “See you tomorrow,” then I wouldn’t see them tomorrow. It was just a game, until I couldn’t fall asleep without saying them.

When I was 12, I would check behind the shower curtains an in the closets when I got home from school. I knew it was stupid, but I was always worried someone would be hiding in my house. I felt like if I didn’t check and someone was hiding, that person would hurt my family. If I checked and found someone, I felt like they would only hurt me and not my family.

When I was 14, my mom took me to the doctor. They told me I was suffering from anxiety. I told them I wasn’t.

When I was 14, I started realizing my little issues with shower curtains and mantras weren’t so little.

When I was 15, I went to a therapist. She was old and smelled. The first thing she told me was she knew I had anxiety after shaking my hand. It was sweaty. I didn’t like her. After every session, I would start sobbing in the car. I only went 5 times and my mom let me stop. I still said my mantras, I still checked behind the curtains.

When I was 15, my doctor had me start taking medicine. It was supposed to make me feel better. I didn’t want medicine. I wanted to be normal. But I took the medicine.

When I was 16, I started having to check to make sure doors were shut. I don’t mean doors leading to the outside, I mean the pantry door and the hall closet. If I didn’t shut the doors, I felt like my family would die. And it would be my fault. I was old enough to know this was irrational, but closing a door was easy and I didn’t want to risk it.

When I was 16, I got a boyfriend. He accepted my little quirks. At first. After 8 months of him saying, “see you tomorrow” back to me, he refused to say it one night. I pleaded for him to just say it back to me, but he wouldn’t. I cried and couldn’t sleep that night. I thought he was going to die. He didn’t.

When I was 17, my doctor said if I wanted to stay on medicine I needed to see a therapist. I saw a therapist. She scared me at first. She sent me to a different lady.

When I was 17, I was diagnosed with OCD. I was put on special medicine that was supposed to help. It gave me bad dreams and I couldn’t sleep. The medicine lady told me I would feel better soon.

When I was 17, I didn’t have to check the doors anymore. I would ask my dad to do it for me. The medicine lady told me that I was headed in the right direction.

When I was 18, I stopped going to therapy. I didn’t like the therapist. The medicine lady told me it was ok, but I needed to stay on medicine. I was happy to keep taking medicine, I didn’t have to check the doors anymore.

When I was 18, I had to increase my dosage. I had started checking doors again. The bad dreams came back. I just wanted to be normal.