I was completely miserable as a kid, being abused and bullied and having absolutely no support system, nor anyone who even noticed I was struggling. Because of all of this, I hurt myself and talked about wanting to die. I would rip my hair and hit myself, and nobody ever stopped me. And when an adult would hear me talk about wanting to die, the only thing they ever did was essentially just tell me to shut up. I was genuinely struggling really badly, and nobody even really cared. Sorry for rambling, I just wanted to get this off my chest.
Edit: I should probably add that one of the adults who told me to shut up was my own dad
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Absofuckinglutely . I had childhood psychosis, extreme night mares, anxiety, dissociation, etc. and it was always “you’re an imaginative kid”. When I asked my mom when I was 9 if kids could be depressed she said “no you’re just hormonal, eat some chocolate”. I had already tried to off myself (in a way that would never work in retrospect but I thought it would at 9).
And we’re the ones who made it through to adulthood when some of these severely distress kids and teens never got the chance.
I had an accident when I was 4 years old. Stumbled, fell down 18 steps and crashed head-first into the floor. Broken skull, tore the oral mucosa and had a concussion (duh). ICU, then 10-day-stay in a regular hospital room with other kids and families. Everyone around me treated my time in the hospital as a fun little holiday, because obviously you wanna make sure the kid isn’t scared, doesn’t associate hospitals with bad things, etc.. I get it from that standpoint.
I remember from being 8 / 9 years old that I’d look at myself in the mirror and not recongize myself. I was having depersonalisation / derealization, as part of my PTSD. I started making rituals for the times where I didn’t have it, and developed OCD. Thinking that I could control the outcome if I didn’t repeat certain patterns, or did the opposite and repeated those patterns that I thought wouldn’t lead to derealization. It lasted actively for about 12 years, until I was maybe 20/21 and moved out from home. When I was younger I’d ask my mom every night “is my head bleeding?”, and of course she’d say no. I’d check the pillow to see if there was blood. As I got older, I’d stay up until 2 / 3am when the last person in my house went to bed, because I thought “if I’m the last one to go to bed I can’t wake up to bad news, because nothing happened while I was awake”.
Nobody noticed the problem or were too afraid to admit that I was having problems. My family is not opposed to mental health help (mom and dad both had therapy at different times in their lives, my aunt has been institutionalized for some time knowing that it’d help her cope better), so I don’t think it was malicious intent at all. But it damaged me greatly that I didn’t get the help I needed when I needed it. It was also the 90s… one kid in my class was on ADHD meds. And that was big news back then.
I often think about what kind of person I’d be now if I had gotten the help I needed. But I’ll never know the answer. There’s some damage that can’t be undone now, although I am definitely better at coping with life now.
Yes, we absolutely do. A LOT of people with depression or bipolar had their first symptoms as teenagers. I have bipolar, and I am watching my 12 year old closely for any symptoms of depression or mania.
I made sure the moment my daughter showed she needed support she got it. Their dad is bipolar, narcissistic, and has a brain injury. I put her in behavioral therapy at age 7 and she continued therapy and emotional regulation-based therapy till she was 14. She is 21 now. She is autistic I should add with O.D.D. and spd. She is also a narcissist. But an aware narcissist if that makes sense. She is a genius with an IQ of 156 when tested at age 7. I shudder to imagine what she would be like if she didn’t have intervention.
I agree with this 100 percent. Kids should be listened to when they tell us they’re being bullied not told to “ go sit your ass down and don’t come back to me again with this” yes this was me. I was bullied all throughout school and no one cared. They all said you’ll be okay they’re just playing. No they’re not. Listen to your kids before they grow up and walk away from you.
I developed severe emetophobia with contamination OCD at the age of 7-8 (didn’t realise it was OCD until recently, thought it all came under the banner of phobic anxiety). From there I grew increasingly afraid of going to school – I’d go because I was a rule follower and couldn’t cope with being admonished or criticised, but I just cried silently in fear all day so I had huge purple marks under my eyes. I tried to explain to my mother and one teacher why I was frightened but being a little kid, I couldn’t really express it properly so I was labelled as “immature”, “hysterical”, “attention-seeking” and generally was an irritant to my parents and anyone in authority.
Only ONCE did an adult ever try to coax more information out of me. It was our kindly but stern headmaster, and I was so scared at being spoken to directly by him that I mumbled something nonsensical. I can still see his face and shoulders sag with disappointment when I wouldn’t talk. But thanks, Mr H – you were the only person who crouched down at my level, looked me in the eyes and said, “What’s the real reason for all of this?” I’m sorry I couldn’t get the words out.
The phobia itself has improved with time but my OCD remains. My brother has OCD as well, and he is bitterly resentful that some insightful intervention at an earlier age might have saved him (and maybe me) a lifetime of anxiety as an adult. But it was the 80’s…nobody knew much about mental health then and there was stigma attached to those labels.