The Story Of Me

Part 2: My Childhood and My Disabilities

When I was younger, my older sister used to always tell me to not think of my disabilities as disabilities but as abilities. Ever since then, I have always had an optimistic view on the world. I am the type of person that other people would look at funny because I'm just always abnormally happy and cheerful. However, my life has not always been easy for me. When I was in sixth grade, I was bullied verbally by 5 other people that I grew up with. Regan, Brett, Ethan, Carson, and Marissa. I never once told anyone that I was getting bullied and I just dealt with daily bullying for 3 quarters of the school year until I told my math teacher what was happening.

After 6th grade, I went to a private Catholic middle school for 2 years. Over the summer between sixth and seventh grade, I tried to take my life away by choking myself but couldn't do it. During the next 5 years of my life, I would get hospitalized a couple of times, 4 more suicide attempts, and I got diagnosed with depression. Then finally getting a proper diagnosis, at age 18, of being on the Autism Spectrum. The reason for why it took so long to get a proper diagnosis, I believe, is because growing up my parents, being as wonderful as they are, stressed eye contact so much that it became second nature for me to look people in the eye. 

So when I got the diagnosis, I received a full diagnosis as to what the hell is up with me. The wonderful doctor who told me the diagnosis said that I am a level 1 on the Autism Spectrum, which is the most independent of the rest on the spectrum, I have ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder), Dyslexia, Anxiety, Depression, and a mood disorder but not Bipolar. If it was a thing, I would be Tri-polar, because my mood tends to swing from being extremely happy to depressed to the point where I can't see the light, and on extremely rare occasions, my mood will swing the other way from extremely happy to full on pure rage, or at least to some extent of full rage. I hate that I have what I like to call a "rage complex" that is just what I call it when I loose my temper or whenever I feel like someone I care about is in danger. Also apparently there is this test that tells you like what percentile you scored well in, and guess what ... I scored in the 98 percentile for protective instinct and yet I'm basically a litteral twig. I'm small, tiny, and thin.