As you may have gathered from the title of this wonderful little blog, I have slight… Issues. I am fifteen years old, though I am much older in my mind then my birth certificate states. I have severe generalized anxiety disorder, anxiety induced asthma, I have slight social anxiety issues, and I have a little… Pet peeve. You’ll find that out eventually, I’m sure. Let’s see, more about me….. Well, let’s start with my family, and their code names (yes, I’ve already given you my name, you little creeps, so that’s about all you’ll get).

My parents, Mom and Dad… Mom’s a little excited, she has anxiety issues like I do, although hers have calmed in her recent years. She’s a vegetarian, a complete eco-freak, but she’s harmless, for the most part. Dad, he has absolutely no issues in the brain. Wait, let me rephrase that. He has no diagnosed issues. I think he has some form of narcissistic personality disorder. But that’s beside the point. Mom is the one who supports me with my mental issues for the most part, Dad thinks I need to suck it up, but I’m honestly really close to both of them. Anyway, moving on.

My first sister, eighteen months younger than I am, making her almost fourteen. We’ll call her….Katherine… But it’s Katty for short, to avoid confusion within my own mind, as I know another Cathy. She’s really, really a nice person, but she too suffers from a disorder. Actually, she suffers from a factitious disorder, shared psychotic disorders, a nerve disorder, and some sort of sleep disorder. Technically, we share a room. But, as of recently, I cannot walk into the room, shed any light, make any noise, or breath, for fear of waking her up during the night. I can walk in with complete silence, and she’ll wake up, and start screaming at me. Yes, she is younger than me. Yes, I am still afraid she’ll kill me the next time I check a text at ten at night. So, as of the start of summer, I have been residing  in my living room. But honestly, we really get along, until we don’t.

My youngest sister is a seven year-old bundle of unpredictable energy. Her codename is Scarlet, or Scar for short. I think that’s an appropriate name. She’s a major athlete, and even though she doesn’t play baseball/softball, she has been known to throw toothbrushes across the room and through quite expensive paintings (that would at the ripe young age of three years old) AND forks across the room, nearly missing my face (So long ago I don’t remember how old she was). Recently, she has managed to grow up, but for her, that means her moods make her about three. She is a stereotypical youngest child.

Now, that’s all for my legitimate family. Now, for the others.

There is Annie. She’s a twenty-five year old woman who lives with us. I honestly didn’t mind at first. The reason she moved in was because she hurt her ankle the week before she was supposed to go out of state for six months for the National Guard. And, I never had a huge issue with her, until four months later, when she has officially moved in with us, and is even moving all of her furniture in with us AFTER she goes to Basic training in September.

I honestly wouldn’t mind Annie living with us. Really, I wouldn’t. But, this year, I was diagnosed with my anxiety and asthma. Because our house is NOT big enough for six people, I have absolutely no way of getting away from everyone. Crowds and lack of a personal bubble are my main anxiety triggers, but I do a good job of holding it in. Until, that is, everything builds up, and then something as simple as having biscuits and gravy instead of spaghetti for dinner can send me into a complete panic attack. And when I say panic attack, I don’t mean I get angry, or I cry. Yes, I do both of those, but I also can’t breath (at all), my lips and the sides of my face go numb, and I visibly shake.
So, that’s about it for now. I mean, it took me a couple days to write that. I couldn’t do it all at once. So, bye?

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