Personal Narrative: Skin Sensitivity Disorder

I don’t quite remember how it all started, since it began when I was so young. According to my parents, it was like someone flipped a switch. One day, I was a happy, normal toddler. I rode my tricycle, played with my friends, and loved the color blue. At first, my parents thought I was just being difficult. I would through countless tantrums, refusing to do what I was told; even though I had always been very well behaved. My mother had just started working her dream job at a nearby dialysis unit, so dad became “Mr. Mom.” His most challenging job was to just get me out the door, and to school.

I wish I could say I remember the first day I couldn’t do it, the simple task of wearing clothes, but I don’t. I remember the relentless mornings before …show more content…
My mom even went to the extent of going to the mall on her one day off, scouting for the softest, most comfortable clothes she could possibly find. As a result, my room was packed with the most soft clothes on the planet, all of which I couldn’t wear. I was taken to a new pediatrician, hoping for some answers. The doctor diagnosed me with “skin sensitivity disorder”, now known as a variety of things such as “skin processing disorder”, and “sensory overload disorder.” She was absolutely shocked, this was the worst case she had ever seen. The doctor explained to us that this disorder was most seen in individuals on the autism spectrum, which I am not. She explained that my nerves are taking in information as “painful” because they easily became overstimulated. This goes for all of my senses, not just my tactile sense. Since I was diagnosed, many sights, tastes, smells, and noises, bother and irritate me. This itself is called a “sensory overload attack,” which is a type of anxiety attack, that can be triggered, or worsened by certain noises, smells, etc, that are all determined by the affected …show more content…
I had even gotten myself out of complete isolation, now having three close friends. A weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. I was told by my doctor and family that I had “grown out of it.” That of course, was complete and udder bull shit. I had done it myself, out of pure desperation to not die at the young age of twelve. I did it to not completely hate myself, to be a bit normal. I still have days where I have sensory overload attacks, and can’t do much but shower and play xbox, but those days are becoming more and more rare. When those days do occur, they no longer feel like the end of the world. If anything, they remind me that I should be proud of myself for how far I have come at overcoming my disorder, that was supposed to last my entire