Brett,
Reading your post was one of the posts that gave me enough strength to post my own story. Thank you. I was hospitalized at a young age, 7 or 8, because they didn't know what anxiety, panic, or other things were. They wanted to blame my parents. I was born this way - and God only knows why. My mom used to say I was just "high strung", and to this day still does not believe anything is wrong with me except what I create.
Recently I have "upgraded" to other forms of expression in my illness. I will find myself rubbing my skin on my hands with my fingernails until I form blisters and bleed. If I watch a movie, I will be running for Teatree Oil when it is done. I don't do it intentionally.
Brett, I look outside through the windows and see children laughing, people talking, and see the stars at night. I want so bad to join those people. To hear why they are laughing, to experience a normal relationship with another person as much as myself. But I find that all I can do is watch through a window that is as impenatrable as steel.
Doctor's put me on meds and all I do is sleep. I have actually lived a whole life in a series of dreams that lasted a few months. I cannot explain this other than I could not tell the difference between this life and my dream life.
Anyway, if you ever want to talk, just let me know.
Regards,
Rosey