:trig:
I'm not entirely sure when I started SH... I know that I developed trichotillomania (hair-pulling) around the age of 7, I think because people used to say this thing about if an eylash falls out, you can make a wish on it and blow it away. I was so scared as a kid, my mum has major MH problems, and has been in and out of psych units, and used to OD alot, and was always shouting and screaming at me and the rest of the family, and I was so scared, and I just wanted everything to be normal, so I started pulling out my eyelashes, in clumps, so I could make wish after wish that things woiuld get better. I still do it, though not as bad as I used to, I just wish my eyebrows were less patchy (I moved onto them and then my fringe as I literally ran out of eyelashes). I'm lucky really, they do grow back when I let them, and I only really pull now when I'm really stressed, or drunk.
I'm not sure when I started doing other stuff. I can remember hitting myself with stuff when I lived at my parents old house, which we left when I was 12, I used to hide in the garage when mum was in a rage, and get so frustrated and angry and couldn't think what to do, so I'd hurt myself to give me something else to focus on.
I think I was probably around 14/15 when I first cut myself, only scratches at first, but more as I got older and stuff got worse at home. Eventually I tried to take an overdose, when I was about 16/17, it was around Christmas, I'd had a massive fight with my mum and I'd just had enough, I couldn't see any way out. Fortunately, my cousin walked in as I was doing it. I don't think she ever realised what she interrupted, but I stopped and went and did something else, and got rid of all the stuff I'd got together later on, which I was proud of myself for doing, I still felt rubbish, but I guess she showed me I could still have fun (we were having a family party).
I saw an educational psychologist when I was in year 7 of secondart school, so around 11/12, and we had several family therapy sessions, and I still feel resentful that nobody picked up on how completely messed up I was. Still, I managed to get to uni, and things got worse at home, but I was living away by now so I was kind of out of it, though I used to get horrendous phone calls from mum. She was really bad towards the end of my second year, and I went and spoke to my personal supervisor at uni, she was a life-saver, literally, she was the first person to pick up that I was completely at the end of my tether and very close to seriously harming myself, though I never admitted my own SH to her. She got me an emergency appointment with a counsellor at uni, and I then had weekly sessions with her until I finished uni. During my fourth year, when my mum was taking significant OD's every week, ending up almost everytime on ICU on a ventilator, or on HDU or the cardiac unit (she took some scary stuff) my supervisor came to the rescue again and got another lecturer she knew, who was a mental health nurse and trained psychotherapist, to see me the same day I went and pretty much cracked up in her room. He, the MH guy, was great, he got me through my final year, I would've dropped out without him seeing me at least once a week, and sometimes two or three, and he gave me his mobile number, so I always had someone to turn to. Might not sound very healthy, but I think he saw in me alot of himself, from things he told me towards the end.
I graduated, started working, bumbled along, all the time from being in uni, I'd been hurting myself, but only intermittently, and usually only near exams, which were a stress too far really. Work was OK, and I kept going, until I moved to a different department. The occupational health suggested I have some therapy, which they'd refer me for, but I was too scared, until my boss placed me for a month working with people who SH, which I just couldn't cope with. The people all wanted to talk to me and it messed my head totally, I can do it when I'm strong enough, and in control, like on here, but at work, I was just expected to listen to all this stuff and not be affected by it. Occ health went mad when I told them, and banned me from ever working in that particular place again (though I could stay in my proper job) and I agreed to therapy, which was absolutely the best thing I ever did. I really struggled to start with, going over so much old stuff, and current stuff, and I hurt myself more than I ever had up til then, but eventually it got better, apart from a blip when I was assaulted by a colleague whilst at work and got absolutely no support from them whatsoever. I hurt myself at that time the most ever, but my therapist got me through it. I finished almost exactly a year ago at therapy, and haven't really looked back. I still have trichotillomania, but it's much better than it was, and I am getting stronger all the time, and I still cut, but, again, only occassionally, and only a small amount when I do, which I'm really proud of. I saw my therpist a few weeks ago for a one off appointment, as I was struggling with my mother again, but that one session really helped, and I know I can go back any time I need to, which helps because then I know I always have a safety net to fall onto, if that makes sense?
Anyway, I'll stop waffling now. I have to say, I feel so liberated for writing all this, even if it never gets read, it feels like I've taken some stuff off my chest (have a new job starting in a month and been a bit stressed!!)
Millie xxx