Typical

Typical

So, there I was. A typical fifteen year old girl, who laughed with her friends, and spent her days shopping or on the internet, who had fallen in love, had flings, meaningless relationships, and of course made many enemies - perfectly typical, perfectly normal, nothing could happen, nothing at all.

However, things didn't seem that way, while I was sitting in the school nurse's office, waiting for her to come back from her lunch break. We had taken some tests together, just little written surveys, to see if I had any quirks --or flaws, as you will--, or if I was a typical fifteen year old girl. I was anticipating her arrival with my papers, my results. I had waited days on end, and I never thought that the time would come that I'd be able to walk out of the guidance office a perfectly normal, typical girl. It didn't quite go the way I had planned, though.

The school nurse, who's name was Betty, had walked in silently, holding the stack of papers, my long awaited results, in her hands. Following quickly behind was Cathy, my guidance councellor. If she came in, I knew there had to be something wrong. I had already seen her that day, there was no reason why she should come and talk to me again, right? How wrong was I.

The only words I really heard were 'Jessica, it's about your results..'.. I didn't much care for anything else she had to say .. Call it, selective hearing, if you will. I despised hearing details, and I just wanted to jump right into what was, or wasn't, wrong with me. I was stupid, though, and didn't bother to listen to anything else. I kept staring out the window, hoping that it wasn't anything bad, that she was amazed at how perfectly normal I was...

"Jessica, you have obsessive-compulsive disorder.."

Say what? I had thought those were only surveys, that didn't have real, actual results.. Why did she say that? She had to be lying. There was no way I could have OCD. I didn't obsess over random, little things, did I? I didn't count, did I? I didn't, say, have to take exactly 7 steps to get down my stairs, did I? Apparantly, though, I did. When the nurse told me about my little "problem", it had hit me hard. I guess I kind of blanked out for a moment, because I don't remember anything after that, until Cathy had snapped me back to reality by asking if I was okay. Okay? Of course I wasn't okay - I have a disorder. A fault. I wasn't a normal, typical 15 year old girl anymore. I was a 15 year old girl, who had OCD.

I was then told by the nurse to go to the doctors, to get proper tests done. While we were there, I decided to try for other things too - such as, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and hypochondria. It wasn't for another three weeks or so until I would found out - so during my three-week wait, I would count down the days until I got my results --which wasn't as exciting as waiting for my school results--, and I stressed. I had a major breakdown during that wait, which resulted in my staying home from school for a couple of days, I had gotten real sick during that time, and in the end, my grade average for school went right down.

Finally, the long awaited, yet not highly anticipated day came. Of course, as I had feared, I had them all. I was bipolar, suffering from hypochondria, and anxiety. And I did have OCD. It was final, written on paper. There was no way I could get rid of these facts, and there was nothing I could do about it. It was something I had to live with, and still do now.

Now I definatly wasn't a perfectly normal, typical 15 year old girl anymore. I was a 15 year old girl who had OCD, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and hypochondria. I was now a 15 year old girl who realized she counted the specific amount of steps she took from getting to point A to point B. A girl who would be perfectly happy one minute, then down in the dumps, practically depressed the next, or sometimes unbearably angry. A girl who, if she had read about some type of illness, would read up on the symptoms and start to believe she had that specific illness - who would see the worst possible outcome of a bad situation, who realized her fears and shut herself in because of them. It had happened - I became distant. From family, friends, loved ones... I didn't want to spend time with anyone, nor did anyone want to spend time with me. Most people didn't even give me the light of day - not like it mattered much to me, unless I was having one of my moodswings. When I was with what little friends I had, however, I would force a smile and pretend like everything was okay.

In my little world that I had created in my mind to get away from the horrible world outside, it was. Everything was peachykeen in my head. Of course, it was during this time that I had created people who, even though I knew didn't exist outside my mind, I could talk to, and trust. I knew they wouldn't tell anyone my secrets, my dreams, darkest desires.. I was wrong, though. These sides of me eventually came forward, and would completely take over me. Even though I knew it was happening, and they were only creations of my temporary insanity, I couldn't do anything to stop it - it was as though, deep down, I wanted people to see the different sides of me that I had hid for so long. I had many different sides to me; one of anger and hatred, love, despair/sadness.. These three would normally come either throughout the week, or on a regular, daily basis. It was something I wish I had control over, but I didn't - and still don't.

During this time, which had stretched out from grade 8, to the middle of grade 10, I had a bout of depression. Nothing too serious; I didn't need pills or anything like that. It was just something that I would get over gradually, over time. I wasn't in the perfect health, either. Being alone for such long amounts of time, I felt no need to keep up with regular diet and excercise - I just quit eating all together, I stopped sleeping, I almost cut all contact with the outside world. All I needed was my room, and my music...

I had gotten sick and tired of having these sides of me come out and show themselves to the world without me having any control over it -- they responded to my environment, what was going on around me, and my emotions. They were so mixed at times, I didn't know what to think and just ended up being mute for the day. I wouldn't talk to anybody; friends, teachers, peers, family.. I would keep quiet during these days, and keep to myself normally. These happened more often towards the end of my little 'depression', and caused a lot of my friends to back away, and leave me alone. For good. A lot of friends I had had before, left me. Without a word. They turned their backs on me.. And once they had found out of my imperfections, they would say things about me, and wondered why they were ever friends with me in the first place.

There aren't too many people who know about these flaws that I have, and writing this, which will be displayed for the world to see, was a very hard thing to do -- not many people have responded well to hearing these things, despite how 'little' they seem. I tend to keep these types of things to myself; I don't want people to see me as someone who is so perfectly imperfect; I want people to see me as what I've always wanted to be: A typical, fifteen year old girl.