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 Bekah's
Story
Ever since I was little, I did odd things. I
was always worried about my grades, even as a first grader. If I
didn't get a happy face on my paper, I would become extremely nervous.
In about second grade, there would be days when I just missed my
mom so much, and felt so uncomfortable at school that I would call
my mom and say my stomach hurt, and then go home. At home, I would
do weird things, different odd tasks, and when my mother asked me
why, I would tell her a little man living inside of me told me too.
This worried her, and they sent me to a school counselor. After finding
out nothing, I went throughout school and the next few years facing
the same problems.
My mom would go off to work in the morning while I was
on summer break, and I would have to stand outside and wave to her for
as long as I could see her car. When I could no longer see it, I would
have to go inside and cross my eyes eight times in a row in the mirror.
Even though I feared they would stick together, I had to risk doing it
eight times, because if I did it eight times then my mom would have a
safe drive to work and home, and wouldn't get in a wreck. So I made sure
I crossed my eyes for the same length of time, eight times in a row.
I also had facial twitches that I voluntarily had to do a certain number
of times in a row. In about sixth grade, I started worrying about my
penmanship. If my letters were not perfect, especially my e's, I would
get very anxious. So I spent extra time on them, and it took me longer
to do assignments. Despite all of this, I was still an A student.
Assignments would give me great anxiety to do if I couldn't do them as
fast as the other kids, and I would want to get every problem right.
If there was a problem on my homework I couldn't figure out, I would
get frustrated and cry.
In Junior High and High School my symptoms became different.
They turned into depression. Thoughts still zoomed through my mind fast
and plentiful, but instead of doing many different, odd tasks, I just
became depressed. I would yearn to be suidicidal, to just get away from
all the anxiety and worries I had. I worried about everything. Even at
church I would worry, like a bad thought would pop into my head, and
I would feel so guilty and scared of thinking that thought in church
I would be anxious for very long periods of time. Other people just thought
I was weird, and my family really didn't get me, yet they wanted to help.
Eventually my depression got so bad, and I was having trouble
with certain school assignments and classes, having trouble focusing
mainly, that my mom took me to a doctor. She had actually seen on an
Oprah show something about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and mentioned
the fact that both her and I had alot of like symptoms, only that mine
appeared to be more severe. The psychiatrist confirmed, and I was then
put on medicine. Since then, I have been to about three different doctors
in the feild of the mind, and have been on many different medicines including:
prozac, paxil, zoloft, risperdol, luvox and a few others. Though I haven't
found one to completely take away my thoughts and anxiety, I have found
some that reduce the stress and the loudness of my many thoughts.
One thing I would like people to know about disorders is
that they ARE disorders. Many a time I have been judged by people who
aren't even familiar with my disorder. They will just say, "Oh,
she's just OCD-ing." or they feared I would "OCD on them." Personally,
I find this ridiculous. If I could chose not to have OCD, then I wouldn't
have it, but I have no choice. My challenge is to figure out how to educate
others and live my best with the disorder.
Lately I have started having panic attacks when my thoughts
get too stressful and when my anxiety level reaches it's peak. Also,
like at work, when I do the dishes I have to re-clean then many times
over. This makes me appear like I am doing a very slow job at the dishes,
when really I've washed them over and over. So, I get lectured for this.
It's a tough decision, because most people don't understand OCD, and
when people don't understand something, they aren't going to want to
listen. Many people think I'm crazy and such, but I wish they would just
listen. And the sad thing is, when I have tried to explain it to people,
they just turn around and tell someone else I'm messed up because of
my "OCD." They just don't understand that its an imbalanced
chemical in my brain. I'm not crazy or slow, I'm a smart student and
talented as well. Another thing I would like to add is that Music has
helped me, it has become my own personal therapy. I have played trumpet
ever since fifth grade, but didn't start to get serious about it until
my senior year.
Now I am in my third year of college, and I love it. It
is something I can count on, my music, the talent God granted me. It
calms me down, and gives me something to focus on. It makes me feel so
complete when I play, like it's my joy. So when I saw that you were using
music to promote mental health awareness, I jumped at the fact to share
at least a small portion of my story.
I must say I wish more people were aware of mental illnesses
and were more willing to help. People shouldn't get discriminated
for having a mental illness. Mental illnesses can be likened unto having
cancer or other disabilities. It's not their choice, they shouldn't be
labeled a freak or weird. It's not someone's fault for their "out
of the ordinary" behavior. Sometimes you have to look deeper than
the surface to see thier heart. I wish others would see that, too. I
just wish to thank my mom for staying by my side through all of this,
and my close family and friends, and my music and my trumpet teacher.
I can't look at my OCD as a crutch or an enemy, I have to figure out
a way to use it for the best in educating others as well as myself. I
also hope to show people that music is an amazing source of expression,
communicatino, and healing. Hopefully you have benefited from this story.
- Bekah Stoops, 20, Oklahoma, USA
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