Sometimes I wonder if I could change my past, time travel to my childhood and tell my younger self about of the future. I’ll warn him of the mistakes I made in order to prevent him from making the choices I chose, tell him to enjoy time with family and friends before it is too late, and, perhaps, that life will eventually turn out all right. As I imagine how much my life would have changed, I also ask myself: would I still be me? Our past experiences define, determine, and influence who we are today. Every mistake we made, every hardship we struggled and persevered, and especially the anguish we experienced influenced the individuals we are today. Looking back, I realize just how much I regretted my childhood and my past decisions. First
…show more content…
I still remember how it started: I was around nine years old and it started as a simple habit of trying to be a bit more sanitary. I didn’t mind rolling in the grass, getting my clothes dirty, but I did care about making sure everything was properly aligned, that all my pencils were perfectly sharpened and all my books were perfectly arranged. My symptoms were minimal until high school, when I started to get obtrusive thoughts, paranoid ideas that I would get a disease by touching the poles on the subway, that I would jinx myself and get stuck with years of bad luck. My paranoia became fears that haunted my everyday life. I started to make sure I locked my doors, typing on my computer became a hassle as I had to constantly delete and repeat my sentences, I was scared of going outside and become infected, contaminated. I was scared of touching my parents because of the idea that I was too dirty, I was scared of hugging my sister. I started to get images in my head of bad things happening to the ones I loved. As these ideas became to become more frequent, I regret how I started to isolate myself and how I started to avoid attachment. I was scared that if I became too attached, bad things would
I still remember how it started: I was around nine years old and it started as a simple habit of trying to be a bit more sanitary. I didn’t mind rolling in the grass, getting my clothes dirty, but I did care about making sure everything was properly aligned, that all my pencils were perfectly sharpened and all my books were perfectly arranged. My symptoms were minimal until high school, when I started to get obtrusive thoughts, paranoid ideas that I would get a disease by touching the poles on the subway, that I would jinx myself and get stuck with years of bad luck. My paranoia became fears that haunted my everyday life. I started to make sure I locked my doors, typing on my computer became a hassle as I had to constantly delete and repeat my sentences, I was scared of going outside and become infected, contaminated. I was scared of touching my parents because of the idea that I was too dirty, I was scared of hugging my sister. I started to get images in my head of bad things happening to the ones I loved. As these ideas became to become more frequent, I regret how I started to isolate myself and how I started to avoid attachment. I was scared that if I became too attached, bad things would