chai
New Here
ENGLISH NOT MY FIRST!!
I've always hated myself. I remember the first time I started self-harming was in elementary school. I was very different, not like other kids. Poorly socialized due to overprotection, I was "gifted" and "the smartest and most studious" in the class. When other kids skipped class as a joke, I stayed. Other kids were compared to me, used as an example.
But then it turned out that my friend was smarter than me. She understood math better, her handwriting was prettier than mine. I became the second. When I saw injustice, when teachers insulted my classmates, I stood up for them, and my mother scolded me for it. She said that as long as I defended everyone, none of them would want to defend me, and that my school friends were untrusted.
I remember being so afraid of my math teacher in middle school that I almost wet myself at the board one day. Good thing no one noticed. Later I started arguing with teachers for no reason, I just liked to make them emotional. My grades went from A's to B's, and teachers would personally come up to me, telling me that I had to improve.
I went to college to escape my small town where no one understood me. I was 16 then. I wasn't the smartest in college anymore. I wasn't even second. I expected teachers to yell at me. I still felt alienated because I was a weird queer person in a homophobic and transphobic country. I couldn't even pass for "that normal gay guy" because I was mentally fcked. I might not understand some joke, I have a bad short-term memory. I cut myself because of classmates' jokes.
A man I knew as a child went to jail for molestation, and I began to suspect that this weird dream with him was real. The gym teacher harassed me and my friends. Nothing serious, he said he was just helping us warm up while placing his hands the way that makes me uncomfortable.
And then something clicked. I fell into depression, didn't get out of bed for a long time, and after a couple of months I gathered the strength to go to a psychiatrist for the first time. I didn't tell him about my traumas, only about the depression, and I was diagnosed with a personality disorder. I took antipsychotics and antidepressants, then I increased dosage on my own, and after a year I quit antipsychotics.
I can function, but everything inside me is broken. It's broken, but all the sharp edges have long since worn away against each other, so I'm still alive. I can't work in one job for long, I quit 5 times in 2 years. Now I'm 20.
..
I've always hated myself. I remember the first time I started self-harming was in elementary school. I was very different, not like other kids. Poorly socialized due to overprotection, I was "gifted" and "the smartest and most studious" in the class. When other kids skipped class as a joke, I stayed. Other kids were compared to me, used as an example.
But then it turned out that my friend was smarter than me. She understood math better, her handwriting was prettier than mine. I became the second. When I saw injustice, when teachers insulted my classmates, I stood up for them, and my mother scolded me for it. She said that as long as I defended everyone, none of them would want to defend me, and that my school friends were untrusted.
I remember being so afraid of my math teacher in middle school that I almost wet myself at the board one day. Good thing no one noticed. Later I started arguing with teachers for no reason, I just liked to make them emotional. My grades went from A's to B's, and teachers would personally come up to me, telling me that I had to improve.
I went to college to escape my small town where no one understood me. I was 16 then. I wasn't the smartest in college anymore. I wasn't even second. I expected teachers to yell at me. I still felt alienated because I was a weird queer person in a homophobic and transphobic country. I couldn't even pass for "that normal gay guy" because I was mentally fcked. I might not understand some joke, I have a bad short-term memory. I cut myself because of classmates' jokes.
A man I knew as a child went to jail for molestation, and I began to suspect that this weird dream with him was real. The gym teacher harassed me and my friends. Nothing serious, he said he was just helping us warm up while placing his hands the way that makes me uncomfortable.
And then something clicked. I fell into depression, didn't get out of bed for a long time, and after a couple of months I gathered the strength to go to a psychiatrist for the first time. I didn't tell him about my traumas, only about the depression, and I was diagnosed with a personality disorder. I took antipsychotics and antidepressants, then I increased dosage on my own, and after a year I quit antipsychotics.
I can function, but everything inside me is broken. It's broken, but all the sharp edges have long since worn away against each other, so I'm still alive. I can't work in one job for long, I quit 5 times in 2 years. Now I'm 20.
..
