MC lars – Twenty-Three
One of the ways that Schizotypal Personality Disorder manifests itself is a belief that everyone hates me. I have an extremely hard time forming friends because I am convinced that they dislike me. I’ve spent most of my life convinced that those who have hung out with me only did so because I was there and they had no choice. This was reinforced in my mind by being a military kid. Every time you move, your friends say “we’ll keep in touch.” Or “we’ll come visit for sure!” But in most cases, that doesn’t happen. In every place I’ve moved to, and the friends I’ve had along the way, only one friend visited me, and he only visited because I paid for his trip.
I don’t like having friends for this reason. I’m in a constant battle with myself on if the person likes me or not. If you ask me, I would say I have two close friends, and good friend, and a few people I would call friend, but consider more as acquaintance. That’s about all I’m able to handle. Anything else I can’t keep up with. The war in my mind over if they are truly my friends becomes to hard, and I give up. If I have decided to call you a friend, even a distant friend, it’s because I’ve decided you are worth the daily battle that goes on in my mind.
One of the main ways I decided to deal with this was through cutting. There would be days that I would cut to the point I could hardly stand. I don’t remember exactly when, but I do remember one day I had fallen asleep on my ex girlfriend’s bed. This had been probably a day or two after I had put some pretty intense cuts on my body. I would cut on my leg so that I could easily hide them. But I had moved in my sleep, which raised up my pants enough to see the cuts. I remember her being concerned and urging me to seek help.
At that particular time I didn’t. But that conversation did start something inside of me. It was one of the first times I actually realized that I couldn’t get through whatever was going on on my own, that I needed help, and not just the help from friends. But I was stubborn, and decided I could do it on my own. I had done a few things to make it look like I was getting help, I had gone to the counselor at my college and talked with her once. She told me that she wasn’t equipped to deal with the problems I was having. But gave me a list of resources to call if I needed help. Most of them cost money, but one of them didn’t. So I tucked it away for later.