So this going to be a more sad side of me that, I don't really show. What lies behind the smile that I wear is a story of bravery and courage. 

Where do I begin?......

From the moment I was born, my family knew I was different. My sister even said the moment I came out of my mothers womb, I didn't cry, I didn't smile. She said I wore a frown on my face, Heh. Tuff baby?, not me. Through my toddler years, I was an absolute crybaby. My own mother couldn't take it and even joked about threatening to throw me out the window as a baby. I wasn't mad, just really different from sister. But things took a turn for the worst when I discovered my first phobia, which would lead to devastation later in life. I Have a HUGE fear of Vomit. Yes, emetophobia. Even saying words related to it makes me nauseous. It's so terrifying especially when you have that one kid in your class that gets sick everyday. Yuck!! 

That's when I started trying to avoid school. "Dad, I'm sick." "Mom, my tummy hurts." I couldn't keep it up though and they caught own. While driving on the way to school one morning... I became really unstable. I started kicking and screaming, I really didn't want to go.  My parents began to force me but I would cry and cause a HUGE  commotion in the classroom. They took me to a specialist. A social worker because they thought I was being molested by someone at my school. The social worker found nothing wrong, and most of the time in our session we would play games such as gold fish. Go figure.

I switched schools but not before making my dad really angry to the point where he punched a hole through the door in our house then he threaten to put me in foster care and my mom didn't care. At that moment in life, I was an embarrassment to my family. I think that even loved my sister more. I was the mistake.

At this new school, my auntie was the assistant principal but things still weren't getting better. I would cry on the way to school, same routine. My mom would have to drag me into the school. I would do anything to not go from running away from school, locking myself in the car. Just terrible. I was spanked almost everyday because of that. Things began to get better, and I started feeling at home at my new school. I had lots of friends, surprisingly.

At the end of 4th grade, me and my family moved to a different state. And I began life a new but I still had slip ups where I would fight to not go to school but things did get better but I wouldn't fully cured.

Let's skip ahead to my 2nd year of high school. I was a choir geek, singing soprano since 6th grade. Of course, hah. I have the voice of an angel. One day, something very real happened to me. when school was over, I realized our bus wasn't there so me and a bunch of other students who ride the same bus waiting a little bit. Our bus showed up later and we all got on. The bus driver had told us a kid was threw up so he had to clean it out. The whole way home, all I could think about was that.

The next day went haywire, on the bus I was really nervous and still thinking about what happened yesterday. I got this feeling like I was going to throw up, thanks to my powerful mind. Long story short, I freaked out on the bus and ended up getting off a few blocks from my house because I didn't know what to do. I told my parents but they thought maybe I was drained from the sun. That whole weekend I kept worrying about what was going to happened Monday when I get on the bus. Monday morning came and I became sick again. 

It escalated out of control to the point where I couldn't leave my room nor go to school. I started talking to a psychologist who diagnosed me with severe depression. I couldn't believe it, myself. I didn't feel depressed at all but I knew something was wrong. After that, I never talked to him again. Another incident happened at school and I went to see someone new. 

Didn't work. I began seeing more and more specialist. Then one doctor diagnosed me with GAD which is Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I had a phobia of life. My mindset was that if something could go wrong it would. I couldn't even perform at my own choir concert because I would get soo unbelievably sick a few minutes before showtime. I basically sat backstage. I visited my doctor again who said that I would really benefit from taking medication. The only thing is, I was afraid of taking anything. What if it made me sick or didn't work? I passed but after a few more anxiety attacks, I was back for the medicine in September 2014.

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Stay tuned for part II

-Tabi

P.S I wouldn't leave this on a sad note,. Excuse any grammar mistakes, too lazy to edit right now T_T