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What diagnosed disorder(s) do you live with?


MoneyMadam

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When I was younger, I had severe ADD, to the point I had to take meds(or was forced to, due to my mother.) but I always had to change the meds I took, as I became immune to whatever I was taking within 2 months or so. Usually ADD wouldn't be such a big deal, but my mother was stuck on the notion I was a genius and had to complete school not just for myself but her as well (she dropped out of high school because she got into a lot of fist fights.) But the meds took a real big toll on my body, and this was in elementary through middle school. I dropped pant sizes rapidly in that span of time, lost a ton of weight. Nowadays I don't take meds, would rather tough out what i'm going through if I ever do get sick which is rare, but ill save that story for another day. As for the ADD, its still there, but I have it under control for the most part.

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The only things I've been actually diagnosed with are bipolar disorder, (extreme!) anxiety/paranoia, and I used to have really depressive episodes. Also insomnia, if you'd like to count that too.

I don't think living with them is exactly difficult, but it certainly doesn't help. I'm scared of crowds and people in general, so I guess that's a minor setback, although I don't really go anywhere ever. Frequent, intense mood swings make it hard to really be with some people, and I hate how easily I get upset sometimes. Other than that, it's honestly never impacted me all that much, given that I barely go out and physically see people.

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First off, autism. A light form of it, but autism nonetheless. Not much to say about it. It took 17 years for everyone to find out, even though I pretty much already figured.

Also, I'm a terribly lazy person sometimes. In primary school, I used to be one of the best students in my class, if not the best. I was never satisfied with just 'good'. First year of high school was about the same, but then it happened. I started to go '50% is enough', because a lot of people mocked me. But it escalated. Even compared to those people, I did extremely few for school, even to the point of hardly/not studying for exams. People even went as far as to complain about me passing the sixth year of high school, even though my grades were all good enough to pass.

In high school, I was basically the laziest fuck around. I wanted to change it, but somehow I always went on doing more interesting stuff. I really wanted to study, but when I was actually about to, all my motivation just...disappeared. In a few weeks, I will be starting graduate school, hoping that it will be more interesting, and thus will motivate me more to study. I have my doubts, though.

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First off I'd like to give super props to MoneyMadam for starting this thread and the same to everyone who's posted their stories within. *claps*

Second I guess I should talk about myself.

General Note:

Super Premature Birth (24 1/2 weeks or I shouldn't be alive today as I'm 29)

Mental:

Severe depression

Anxiety

Minor Compulsive OCD (that affects sleep).

Medication Addiction x2 (WOOT!)

Physical:

Seizures (Childhood Type called Febrile that were fever-induced)

Scoliosis of my lower back (which is the cause of the Sciatica)

Sciatica

Touch of Cerebral Palsy (which is actually kinda funny)

List Complete! Explanation time... I guess?

So yeah... guess the best place to start with is the Seizures. As I noted, I had a type of Childhood Seizures that were rather odd looking back. As a baby in the hospital I had the seizures so medication was dissolved into my bottle. 29/30 year's ago medicine wasn't nearly as advanced. Especially in the field of child-birth (and preemie survival). So I know a lot of people are gonna go "24 1/2 weeks? What does that mean?" Heck, I did after getting over my shock. I'll make it easier to grasp. My birthday is Feb. 21st, my due date was JUNE 8th. I was born 1 lb (pound) and 8 oz (ounces) and 13 inches long. I was entirely see through when born and the doctors didn't think I'd live through the night (they dragged my grandma to see me "so someone saw the baby alive").

I managed to work my way up to 13 cc's of formula before I threw up and restarted at 5 cc's (30 cc = 1 ounce). But I survived against the odds thanks to a pioneering doctor. Yay life-saving progress! But I digress, sorry. So I'm on the medication and doing great, no seizures. I hit 3 years old and they take me off the meds. Within a month I have a spiking fever (99 -> 100 -> 101 abnormally rapid climb) and wham! I wake up in the hospital. Back on the meds. No problems. I turn 6. Let's try again. No meds. Mom's driving down the road and suddenly a tornado drops down, rips up the street in front of her, and !hello! I'm once again seizing. Ironically, we were on our way to my doctors for a check up... So I turn 9. Third times the charm right? Nope. Grandma (the one who was dragged to see me in the hospital) is living with us at the time. 4:30 am and mom gets to go wake up dad (I was sleeping with mom in the master and dad slept in my room since I was sick.) and Gram too. Grammy strolls into the master thinking she can wake me up and see's 5 grown men on the bed fighting with me. (An ambulance crew + back up from a fire truck.) She freaks (I'm told) and I wake up again in the nice kiddy room at the hospital.

At this point my brain decided that it not only was going to torment me by randomly shorting out but it was going to stop making Serotonin and Melatonin (Keys for 'happy' and 'sleep'). So I enter 3rd grade and my mom gets to argue with the doctor that something was wrong with me. "It's like a switch flipped off. She's not herself!" (At that point no one believed children could get depression so he chalked it up to my seizure medication. woot!) Then mom decides that maybe I'm just becoming like my father (an major introvert) and that she's over-reacting. Severe Depression hides itself until under this guise for many years.

School was... a mix of sucky and fine with a bit of weird and creepy mixed in. I got bullied through 3rd-5th grade (elementary/primary) but also managed to come into my own sense of self in 5th. Also got a teacher fired that year. School itself was boring and as I saw rather pointless. I had no interest in studying or doing homework and frustration was had by all in my life at that point. (Parents, Teachers and me.) So I turn 12 and this time before we go off the meds the doc orders a 24hr-ekg (brainwave scan) So I became a mummy for a day (the fun electrodes were glued to my head which was then wrapped in bandages to keep them on.) and I even got to carry a briefcase everywhere! (the recorder) So... yeah. Results come back finally. I've grown out of them. My brainwaves are normal. But life is still 'blah and meh' feeling. I suddenly start to have shooting pains up my leg that nearly cause me to fall. MRI time! We learn from that about my touch of CP. And my Scoliosis + Sciatica. God Sciatica is a bitch! It's so damn painful! Year's pass and now Dad's having back pain. Crazy painful pain. Random test at hospital (X-ray?). Cue life-crisis beating me in the face. Turns out daddy's got Kidney Cancer. (this is around 1995~ish)

Jump forward to 2002. My mental descent begins. School starts, dad's in hospice (care given to those terminally ill to ease their pain at the end) and I get to deal with stupid teachers that don't know what hospice is (and are rather rude upon finding out) and I've stopped feeling much of anything. One day blurs together into the next. Dad passes (RIP 9/15/2002) and I still feel next to nothing. I'm great at acting and actually comfort my aunt at the funeral service. Because of my counselor at school I was able to drive to school (as a sophomore) and only had a half day's worth of class's (only necessary class's, no electives.) One morning in the winter something snaps... literally. Getting ready for school and BAM bawling my eyes out on the floor for no reason. Manage to write mom a letter that sums up everything (I don't know what's wrong but I can't feel happy or care about anything) and drag myself to school (managed to stop the tears for a bit).

Mom reads letter, calls school. Pulled from class (was waiting for it) and get to go see my friend the counselor. Standard "do you want to hurt yourself?" session. Reassuring her "No" (and actually putting it in the letter) I got a recommendation to see a psychiatrist. She's quick to misdiagnose me as Bi-Polar before finally thinking it's severe depression not bi-polar. Giving a script for pills. (Zoloft) Take it the first night... sleep like I haven't in YEARS. Go back to doc and start the 'adjustment' phase of the meds. That sucked. I got pissed at the doc and missed too many appointments so I was kicked from her practice. Found another doctor. Ironically... same last name as the first. Though totally different and awesome (I love her although she's always late or running behind). She does a much more detailed exam and realizes that I have some bonuses with my depression. Anxiety and Minor Compulsive OCD (as all three are in the same region of the brain). Anxiety rear's its head in lovely panic attacks regarding a story with an uncle that stayed with us. I still can't listen to it. The OCD kicks in at night when I'm trying to sleep and is more annoying than anything. It pops up as repeating words or song lyrics that endlessly spiral round my brain (proper sounds included.) One night I was trapped with hearing Homer Simpson alternating "D'Oh!" and "BART!" as if he were standing next to me. Or I get to listen to one line of lyrics from songs like "I Got You Babe, Chasing Cars, Dancing Queen and/or the 'Ominous Music' from Law and Order and Criminal Minds.)

So now the doctor gives me new pills to help with the OCD and they work... mostly. Then comes a week in ~2010 that I screw up and miss an appointment. It gets moved to a week later. No night time med... suddenly I'm not sleeping well. I only know I 'slept' because time move forward. I go to work. Nights get worse. Body feels old and creaky. 4th day (was working the whole week) I'm suddenly stammering and not coherent when talking to customers. (Cashier... key point in job yes?) Can't remember where I live. (We moved 6 years prior and I worked across the street from my home but have to cross a major road). Call mom in a panic "I can't drive that far! Come pick me up!" Confused mom asks me that I can't drive across the street? (She's on other side of town near old house) I continue to exclaim that I can't drive that far. Mom convinces me to drive across the street, before suddenly calling to tell me to wait for her. She picks me up and we call the doctor. They fax emergency script over and we snatch it. I take pill. Sleep like I'm dead and wake up bright-eye and bushy-tailed. Memory of prior week seems like a crazy dream. Never did that again.

Holy crap that was long... and disjointed. Sorry for the story format! Oh and If people want to know more details that I glossed over let me know. Just reply here or PM me. Depending on response I may post them here.

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Well, I don't have it too bad I think. Just some minor depression, social anxiety, and pathological lying. The depression and social anxiety aren't too uncommon for a lot of people and honestly aren't that bad on my part. I just get sad every now and then over the most minor things and it takes me a while to warm up to people. However, my pathological lying is pretty bad. I don't think there's a single person I know that I haven't lied to. Even if it would probably benefit me more to tell the truth, lying just feels safer to me, for no good reason. Someone could ask me if I was finished with my soda, and I'd say no when there's not even a drop left in it.

Physical disorders are only a few things. I've got 12% scoliosis, low blood pressure, and a rather weak immune system, especially when it comes to respiratory illness. I'm also prone to fainting spells. The only big thing, which honestly is something weird that's incredibly rare, is that the cardiologist told me my heart beats in reverse. He never really gave me too many details aside from the fact that he'd never seen something like it before. Because he honestly has no clue what's going on with it, he kinda just told me that spontaneous death due to a heart malfunction is highly probable at some point in my life. It also makes it harder for me to exert myself with physical efforts, and I can't be too long out in the heat or else I'll faint.

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Well, my disorder isn't too severe... Well, perhaps one is, if you count Insomnia, but I digress.

Anyways, I have something called Aarskog-Scott syndrome (I think I have that, at least), which means that I have short stature (Is 5'8 short?), and mental retardation (Although I'm not entirely retarded, I still feel like one sometimes...)

I don't exactly know what my mother meant when she told me I had Aarskog Syndrome, but at least I knew what the name was. One thing she did say though was that I had some habits (Although I don't exactly think that's what Aarskog Syndrome means.).

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Although I'd rather not share my personal struggles with anyone, I feel as if I can trust this thread is judgement-free.

I'm diagnosed with several disorders: ASD, ADHD, clinical depression, anxiety, scoliois, and neurofibromatosis (feel free to read up on it if you don't know what it is http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/neurofibromatosis/basics/definition/con-20027728). I've been through a shitload of medical problems throughout my life, not too severe, but enough to make my life a bit more stressful than that of others.
Scoliosis stories will be saved for later. Phrasing it short, my scoliosis surgeries went on from age 5-11. My final curve prior to my spinal fusion was 95.

I wasn't diagnosed with Asperger's until I was 13 or so, but I did definitely show the characteristics of it ever since I was a child - bouncing from one thing to a next and having obsessive interests in things, which I never thought much of. Being accepted by other students was a huge challenge for me. I was different, socially awkward, and loved being unique. Because of this, I was treated like shit constantly. I wanted to get things done and be a leader, but instead I was left out of everything, thus being pretty bad in groups.

7th grade was the most dramatic year for me, literally got KICKED out of social groups, ended up breaking down numerous times in school, thus not taking anything seriously.

That was the year that I was diagnosed. I realized it wasn't that I was an over-dramatic piece of shit, I just needed improvement socially. My parents set up an IEP to help with it, but my IEP team didn't do anything except ridicule us, making us feel like garbage just because we were different. Things got better when I got to high school. Everything started out fresh and new.

I do intend on eliminating my IEP at some point soon, though. I feel like I have met the requirements to move on with my life and forget about my diagnosis.

Edited by Sevonic
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I guess I'm pretty bland with social anxiety and depression. Both have kept me back for a long time, which is quite unfortunate. I can't deal with phone calls. At all. I tense up when the phone rings, and if I have to answer, I'll most likely freeze. I did manage a somewhat long phone call, if by manage you mean ending completely shaking, hyper-ventilating and with regret you shouldn't have but do anyway. I also have some fear with filling in forms and having to return them. Those are on top of the usual aversion to going out and stuff.

Basically, horrible combination for life.

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I guess I'm pretty bland with social anxiety and depression. Both have kept me back for a long time, which is quite unfortunate. I can't deal with phone calls. At all. I tense up when the phone rings, and if I have to answer, I'll most likely freeze. I did manage a somewhat long phone call, if by manage you mean ending completely shaking, hyper-ventilating and with regret you shouldn't have but do anyway. I also have some fear with filling in forms and having to return them. Those are on top of the usual aversion to going out and stuff.

Basically, horrible combination for life.

I literally cannot answer the phone unless I know the number on the caller ID so I know your feels. Phones are like the worst thing ever and I hate them and I freak out when they ring. though I can at least talk on them if I do know the person calling or if I'm the one making the call and know who's going to answer

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I literally cannot answer the phone unless I know the number on the caller ID so I know your feels. Phones are like the worst thing ever and I hate them and I freak out when they ring. though I can at least talk on them if I do know the person calling or if I'm the one making the call and know who's going to answer

Calling people (unless they're friends or people I know) is hard for me, too.

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Well, my disorder isn't too severe... Well, perhaps one is, if you count Insomnia, but I digress.

Anyways, I have something called Aarskog-Scott syndrome (I think I have that, at least), which means that I have short stature (Is 5'8 short?), and mental retardation (Although I'm not entirely retarded, I still feel like one sometimes...)

I don't exactly know what my mother meant when she told me I had Aarskog Syndrome, but at least I knew what the name was. One thing she did say though was that I had some habits (Although I don't exactly think that's what Aarskog Syndrome means.).

Eh, the article I read says you'll only be short early on but then your growth catches up later in your early teens. Which yours obviously did, cuz I'm only 5'7" and average heights will change depending on who you talk to and what country you're in, but the number I've heard as average is 5'9". So short is probably more relative to your family's male heights. If your family is super tall, like a lot of people up in Minnesota and stuff, you'd be considered very short. Something, something, evolution, large sizes helps fight heat loss, something. Friggin frost giants over there.

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