
“It started getting really bad in ninth grade. Shaking hands became uncomfortable. I couldn’t touch money. I couldn’t eat with utensils if they had touched the table. Door knobs were the worst. Touching them felt like touching dog poop. It got to the point where I couldn’t even play bassoon, and that’s what I love the most. My bed became my only safe space. I’d stay in bed for a week at a time. I dropped out of school. Once I didn’t leave the house for an entire month. I got committed to a psychiatric hospital three different times, and honestly that was a relief. It was like an escape from existing. But I’m happy with where I am now. I’m on so many medications but I’m doing much better. I’m leaving the house twice a week. I just finished a bassoon lesson. I’m starting an internship soon. And I’m applying to music schools this fall.”
Published on September 07, 2016 16:20