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Joined: 11/15/2011
My Story:
I have had a long a tumultuous past with mental health. It started when I was 12 with the skin picking, although it is not clearly noticeable until later years. I had my first bout of full blown depression when I was 13, but remained untreated until I was 15, as a result of a trauma, which then my parents were recommended to find treatment for me by authorities. At age 14 I started cutting, as an outlet, for aggression, fear, anger, and really any intense emotions. I was diagnosed with clinical depression at 15 and put on an anti-depressant. At 16 I was sent to a psychiatrist, where I was diagnosed bipolar and put on many medications which, I disagree with now, but i didnt know better then. When I was 16 I started to isolate and had one good best friend, who happened to also be FWB with me. He told me he never wanted to see me again, which sent me into a spiral. I was now 17 and this is when, my most prominent symptoms started. I had emotional dysregulation, I had an inherent dependance on men, any man that would give me the time of day. I had a constant feeling I was being abandoned, mistreated, or not good enough for anyone to like or love. This landed me in my first hospital visit to the adolescent unit. After two pretty violent suicide attempts, one involving a butcher knife, and the other slitting my wrists. I later that summer became engaged and moved in with my now, ex. Fast forward, to 19 where my ex, broke off the engagement. Saying, I didnt change enough for him, that he couldnt be with someone as f-ed up as me. I came home, and started the same cycle again, of dependance, although this time self injury was my dominant coping mechanism. Months later, I got sent to partial hospitalization because I cut my leg so bad, I had to get 28 staples in it. I did not go to in patient because, at the time I had a steady job, that kept me quite sane, but only when I worked. I still battle daily, with self injury, and battle myself daily as well. Its a struggle, I will have to fight for a while I am told, but I have my armor on, and I am ready to fight to the death, to become a better, healthy, person. The person I want to be, is more important than, my need to cut. I thought I would end on a positive note. Hehe

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