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Old 12-09-2018, 12:54 AM
ihonestlydontknow ihonestlydontknow is offline
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Location: America
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Member Since: Dec 2018
Location: America
Posts: 2

Trig spilling the stuff I don't even tell my therapist (triggers)

First post here. Not really sure how else to keep this going other than the story, so let's do that.

Maybe when I was 10 or 11 my self esteem was horrible. Still is, but pretty much everyday would be me crying myself to sleep because of what I would tell myself. I don't remember many nights from that time where I hadn't done this. But some time during that I heard 2 voices. I couldn't tell what they were saying, nor actually remember their voices, but I knew they were speaking to eachother. I know I've had more of these but definitely more miniscule and forgettable. Recently, racked with anxiety, I noticed music. Not exactly sure what kind of music, but it had no words. My palms have sweated profusely my whole life.

Anyway, anxiety stuff comes later. My friend told me one time that I'm like someone invested 300 points into charisma and -2 into looks. I don't take it personal, because he feels little to no actual sympathy for people, and believes he's at least sociopathic. He's a cool guy none the less, really smart. I got bullied a little in 6th grade but that's whatever.

Fast forward about a year and a half. I'm 12. Find Tistch though someone on YouTube. Meet someone on there who takes me to someone else who takes me to someone else. I watch this guy even though I'm the only one there, he's a pretty fun person. He's like 15ish, I don't care. I made it around talking to people double my age with no suspicion. Eventually, he brings a friend onto the stream. She seems pretty nice, same grade. End up getting Snapchat again to talk to them, but they don't see my face because, uh, stranger danger or something.

Actually I should probably give them aliases. Girl is gonna be Ashley, guy is gonna be Carter. So Ashley and Carter get in a big romantic/friendship thing. Looking back on it, it was probably the result of a lot of miscommunication. They just needed a bridge to get their messages across, and someone to convince one of them to just own it and end the fight. I wanted to help them, so I did.

...And succeeded. Somehow. I had to get Ashley to just listen to Carter's confusion about the whole situation and answer his questions. Now Carter is very choosy of who he would call a friend. And that day he called me his friend. I feel stupid for being proud of it, but I am.

I start developing some... feelings for Ashley. Yeah little boy hormones and whatever, and I tell myself that. I don't want to love anyone because I know I'm not ready for that. We joke flirted and everything, it was fun. One time I said something like "no one ever gon' luh me" in that kinda jokey way. She said something along the lines of believing I looked perfect until she knew what I really looked like.

Eventually they gain enough of my trust to get my actual face and age and they surprising don't seem to care all that much, other than being excited to know. But I feel doing that was a mistake. I ruined that belief that I was some kind of perfect person, even if it was a joke that I missed. I ruined being able to be someone I wasn't, and I wanted to have that option.

Days, weeks pass. Watch more streams and July is melting into August. Ashley texts me something one night.
"ugh, can I tell you something tmi?"
I said something like I was ready for whatever she had to say. But I wasn't.
"so I got ****ed doggy style on my floor today"
Looking back it was meant to be one of those deliveries that was nonchalant and everything but still had a lot of weight, you know? She believed I was mature. She thought I could handle it.

Long story short, I couldn't.

I felt that something was wrong. My head felt cloudy. I had never felt anything like this before. I said something like "woah that was too much" or something. After some apologetic responses I put my phone down. Then it escalated into uncontrollable shaking. My breathing got faster. Migraine. Tears. I didn't know how to feel. I wanted to kill my stupid feelings, because they wouldn't listen to me. I was completely breaking down and didn't know how to stop. At some point I realized something.

I wanted to die.

I'm sure anyone who has felt suicidal before knows how dreadful this is, you don't just say you want to die. You KNOW. I'm glad that I was physically incapable of doing anything irrational that night. I went through the whole thing for what felt like 30 minutes, but lasted and hour and a half.

After that, nothing has been the same. I felt a weakened form of what I felt the night before for a long time, frequently getting migraines. My dad decided to replace our carpet with wood. During this, I had to deal with the sound of power tools and nail guns and God knows what else he was using. I couldn't go anywhere else, I didn't feel comfortable anywhere else. All I had was my cat. He helped so much.

I was already going to a group for social skills, which I didn't really need but was put into for whatever reason. I'm still going and 2 of the guys there are pretty cool. One of them goes to my school, so I see him sometimes. I hadn't told my therapist about any of this, still haven't.

I told Carter what happened, but left out what Ashley specifically said, and whatever feelings I had. "I kinda got ****ed doggy style on my floor today." It hurt to think about it. Eventually when I told Ashley she was very upset with herself. She had her own anxiety to deal with, telling her about my own problem wasn't gonna help her. She was super upset and blamed herself immediately. She wasn't right... But also wasn't wrong.

After I cry a few times at school as a response to hearing a single mention of any romance I end up having an individual session scheduled with my therapist. Takes a little to get me to say anything but I do say how I've been feeling. He said I was going through a depressive episode. Depressed? That didn't seem right. This doesn't seem like what depression would be. Just a name I can believe would make me feel a little better. I want to know what's wrong with me.

Fast forward less than a year, 2-4 months ago. Either I'll keep writing or add the rest tomorrow. I feel pretty bad reliving that but I feel like it also may have helped.
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