Xraym Member Profile

...See more I feel like the people on 7COT would be able to make a guess of what I have. Its troubling me not knowing. I was born in March 2002 in Dublin, Ireland while my parents were on vacation. I was born into a family of six: Mom & Dad, Two sisters 12 and 13 years older and me, we'll call them Ally and Anna and a brother who was 10 years older than me, we'll call him Rohan. Two weeks after I was born my parents returned from their trip to their home in Israel and life was...well pretty normal for a family of six in that country. Fast forward a year later. My dad is dismayed about losing his sixth job in five years. After a few weeks of arguing. He decides that we were going to move to United states. My mom had started to notice marked delays in my development. At 12 months. I didnt speak, I rarely cried and I didnt crawl. She dismissed me as a lazy baby who takes his time. Im two years old. Anna (my sister) starts getting into the druggie/party life and is in an abusive relationship, she is skipping school and being defiant. All attention is focused on her. Sometimes she didnt come home for days. On top of all that. We were broke. We lived in a 3 bedroom house for 6 people. My parents slept in a bed in the living room and I slept in a crib next to them. We were also on food stamps. By then I only said a few words and still rarely cried. Im three years old. I said a few sentences, however I remember comprehending language. The issues with Anna somewhat settled down. Something happened with my mom. She went from an adventerous and chill person to an angry and anxious person it was early in progression. We were still poor. We lived in the poorest neighborhood in our town (of 100k people). Attention started to shift to me and my delays. Im four years old. I spoke more but not enough. I was tested for autism and got a "maybe its too hard to tell". I went to speech therapy and Anna moved out of the house. Still poor. Same house. Still sleeping in crib. I started to have my quirks then. I would flap my hands and was a very sensitive kid. I had a hard time interacting with other kids and had an obsession with history and numbers. Im five years old. Moms issues were not getting worse and speech was ok. My handwriting was worse than the other kids so I went to O.T. . I didnt struggle so much socially as I recall. Still sleeping in crib still poor . Im six. My dad finds a new job and we move to a smaller upperclass town closer to my dads job. Only 20 minutes from my house. I said goodbye to whatever 3 friends I had and to my crib and get a bed. I learn how to ride my bike. My attention shifts to my brother because hes moving to college soon and is having legal trouble because of his girlfriends crazy stepfather. So attention shifted towards him. Mom still doesnt seem that bad and my social difficulties are present but under-the-radar. My sisters join the israeli army. Im seven and eight. This is were things become worse. My moms mental health declined and she would pick a fight with everybody. It would last hours and leave someone in tears. If she didnt argue with Rohan or dad she would fight with me and always hit me at the end. She is also in constant anxiety because of her job (She now denies that any of it happened fyi) and the legal stuff with rohan ended up in a 2 month restraining order (even though he never did anything). Im still eight. My brother is heading off to college, goodbye rohan. Im nine. My sisters come home from the israeli army. Anna goes off to virginia for a job and ally stays to pursue school (yay). The fights became less in frequency however my mom got worse. Whenever she would pick a fight with me I would breakdown and cry. I have angry emotions for an hour or so and then feel empty. I was blinded by the idea of being all alone. I didnt realize that my mom was being abusive, my brother and sister were never home and my dad always worked. My social problems were still there and were still, sadly, under-the-radar. Im ten. My moms fight picking subsided but her defensiveness was still there, like usual. All is good, I'm making friends and im relatively happy unknowing of the fact that I will be totally f**ked next year in middle school. I join this online game well call "Bloks". As school ends I feel slightly anxious for middle school but I think it will be ok. Im eleven. NOTE: I dont remember this era all to well. Its august and schools next year. Im getting cyberbullied on bloks but I knew how the internet works and disregarded it as trolling. In september my life crumbled to ruins, I developed Major Depressive Disorder. My mom became abusive my calling me names and hitting me in the face and body. My dad did nothing and no one was home. The cyberbullying becomes hacking on bloks but It was my main coping skill so I didnt quit. I played that game from when I got home till midnight each day. I switched to the "goth" style but instead of family supporting me they said it was a phase and made fun of me. Its my twelth birthday. I skip math tutoring for my plummeting grades and my mom shreiks at me and hits my face multiple times. I snap its not just any snap its THE snap. I dont say anything, no emotion, no nothing. I head up to me room and my mom comes in and tells me were going to a psychiatrist. She goes into her room. I say im going to shower. I go down stairs. Grab perscription meds from the cabinet and water and swollow nearly everything. While looking at the mirror and thinking "ugly". I hide the meds in a cabinet, shower, and head downstairs to go to the psychologist or whatever. On the way there, im at peace knowing im going to die. I hope it takes me in sleep. When we aproach the restaurant I start having abdominal pain and tell them to take me to the ER. They say no. I finally tell them what happened and they yell at me telling me im stupid and an idiot and that ill go deaf in one ear. Flash forward. Im in the ER with my mom. She is there and she is playing the victim and I AM THE ONE THAT NEEDS TO CHEER HER UP. I am sitting there jitting and feeling dizzy with an IV in my arm who suffered from abuse for the past 6 months and she is the victim. I didnt understand that I didnt need to cheer her up. Im in the ER for a week before transfering to a psych hospital. There I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and was discharged in 2 weeks. After I discharged, I didnt go to school and went to an outpatient program. two months after I went back to a psych hospital for a month and was diagnosed with NVLD (which was proven false later). In summer I developed bipolar disorder and went up for a few weeks and then down and then up and then down. The abuse stopped but my life was buldozed more or less. Im thirteen. Bipolar is still there. Its my birthday and 1 year since the suicide attempt. I go out to celebrate. It ended up with my parents telling me Im going to go to a foster home if I dont shut my mouth. I entered a 2 month long depressive phase. I tried to overdose on tylenol but failed and woke up a few hours later. I told my mom take me to the psych hospital but instead drove me to school where I had a huge meltdown and the guidance councelor came out of the school and told my mom I needed a hospital. I was hospitalized for 2 weeks and that was the end of that. I entered a hypomanic phase was diagnosed with bipolar. Im still manic. Fastfoward to now. You're reading this. What do you think. Oh and tbh im not proof reading this. its far too long.

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