A lost girl
Member
I usually don't spill my guts out in such a blunt way, but right now at this very moment, I am going to, just to get it out, perhaps to people who can relate to me, although I doubt it. I am a 20 year old girl with depression, terrible OCD, and an eating disorder. I have the most incredible boyfriend who is in fact the man of my dreams, a beautiful dog that I love, a beautiful house, a beautiful life you would think from the outside, and in fact it should be a beautiful life, if it weren't for me and my problems.. Ever since I was a child I have had some type of mental screw loose, I guess it started when my parents had their throwing out and all of the many times of chaos and sadness that followed that..
What is wrong with me? My life wasn't the best one for a child/teenager to have growing up, it was full of things a child shouldn't have to endure.. Mental problems are expected to increase and or develop in such bad times.. It seems however, now even when I have all that I have ever dreamed of having, that my mind some how finds a way to torture me still, although the obvious problems caused by others and chaos from my childhood and beyond has stopped and I am now living what I would call my dream (from outside of my mind that is) I am still in hell. My OCD is terrible, the thoughts, it uses the ones I love to be the strong oppressing terrible force that it is.. I find myself crying my eyes out daily, I don't know why, that is a good question.. I vomit my food, I have ever since an accident in the family for almost a year now.
Why is it that I am still in a mental hell when things are just the way I always wanted them to be? This suggests that there really is no end. I would tell myself growing up that one day I would have the life I have now, and it would stop.. But oh boy was I wrong. My mind, life, some how still finds a way to torture me when the picture is perfect from outside of this permanently troubled mind of mine... I don't want to do anything. I don't want to get out of bed unless I have medicine which makes me actually have the ambition to act as a normal human being, one that is happy, one that actually acts as I should, however it wears off of course eventually. The love of my life has asked me what he can do several times, poor man, he doesn't know that there is nothing anyone can ever do, my life will always be like this, it always was, still is. There is my sob story, it felt nice to let it out in a place where no one can know who I am or judge me to my face.. Sorry for the blues, this is just me.
What is wrong with me? My life wasn't the best one for a child/teenager to have growing up, it was full of things a child shouldn't have to endure.. Mental problems are expected to increase and or develop in such bad times.. It seems however, now even when I have all that I have ever dreamed of having, that my mind some how finds a way to torture me still, although the obvious problems caused by others and chaos from my childhood and beyond has stopped and I am now living what I would call my dream (from outside of my mind that is) I am still in hell. My OCD is terrible, the thoughts, it uses the ones I love to be the strong oppressing terrible force that it is.. I find myself crying my eyes out daily, I don't know why, that is a good question.. I vomit my food, I have ever since an accident in the family for almost a year now.
Why is it that I am still in a mental hell when things are just the way I always wanted them to be? This suggests that there really is no end. I would tell myself growing up that one day I would have the life I have now, and it would stop.. But oh boy was I wrong. My mind, life, some how still finds a way to torture me when the picture is perfect from outside of this permanently troubled mind of mine... I don't want to do anything. I don't want to get out of bed unless I have medicine which makes me actually have the ambition to act as a normal human being, one that is happy, one that actually acts as I should, however it wears off of course eventually. The love of my life has asked me what he can do several times, poor man, he doesn't know that there is nothing anyone can ever do, my life will always be like this, it always was, still is. There is my sob story, it felt nice to let it out in a place where no one can know who I am or judge me to my face.. Sorry for the blues, this is just me.
