This page was originally written in 1999 and I wanted to make it more logical, but stick to the original piece.
I have red hair, big deal you say, well yeah, it is. All redheads I have known have very heightened senses. We burn to a crisp in four seconds, our bodies are hypersensitive to noise, pain, emotion. I started noticing my brain was not real normal in about 7th grade. My teenage years were real roller coaster. I went from being paranoid to being obsessive to being sad and crazy. I had what is called dysthemia. Basically it means mild chronic long-lasting depression. I cried all the fucking time. I'd come home from school and just wail. It sucked. I don't know what my fucking problem was, but it went on for a really long time without me doing anything about it.  Yeah, I was teased, so was everyone else. Yeah, I am a little more sensitive than average so that attributed to some of it. But this shit wouldn't go away. It made me feel weak and shitty.

Crying wasn't all of it, I was insanely paranoid. I have a VERY over-active imagination. I would create these scenarios in my mind when I couldn't sleep at night.   I would hear the lock being removed from our front door, I would hear the thief climbing up the stairs.  I would go out in the hallway so I could protect my family and would finally realize the "thief" was nothing but my brother tossing and turning in this bed.  When my family would go on vacation I would choose the bed furthest away from the door because if we got robbed, I'd be the last one killed.  This was the kind of shit going on in my head for years.  It was normal to me, but you must think I was a real nutjob. I also took my emotions out on people. Creating these false idols and heroes. I wrote letters upon letters to people (usually musicians) I identified with at the time. I thought they knew me so well. I apologize to Eddie Vedder and Henry Rollins for cramming their mailbox with my ranting.

Well, the point of the story, I decided in college to major in Psychology.  I got interested in psychology to better understand the shit going on inside my head.  I underwent years of drug therapy and counseling until I realized I had to do it myself and figure out for myself why I kept getting stuck on repeat in the past.  There are a few things I can pinpoint. My dad could be called a rage-a-holic. When I was growing up my dad yelled all the time. I don't even really have many happy memories of childhood, I remember being angry and being yelled at. And a lot of it wasn't my dad yelling at me, it was my dad yelling at something else and me being in the same room, so I thought it was directed a me. He wasn't real supportive either and if you call your kid stupid, I would recommend stopping, it makes them feel like shit. This stuck with me for a really long time. Even now with when my husband gets really mad and starts yelling at something like parking or stupid drivers, I tell him to knock it off because I just can't stand that kind of outburst. The other reason was that I watched a lot of news. Growing up outside DC in the 80's was nothing but murder and drugs on the news. Even though I lived in a safe suburb I thought it could easily happen on my block. Hense the paranoia and overactive imagination.

It wasn't until my junior year of college when I actually came to understand that my life could be so much worse.  I was born "normal."  I have all my chromosomes.  I can use all of my limbs, my family is alive and well. It wasn't until this time that I began seeing things in a new light. I then put things into perspective.  Before everything was so cut and dry, now I see things in moderation.  I've seen other people's misery and I know that it could be me, but it's not.  I have a good life and it's up to me what I do with myself.

I'm not going to deny that I'm not still a little nuts.  I am still paranoid, I still get depressed, but I know I can get through it, drug-free.  There are times when I know I'm going to be a mess (moving kills me) and my body and mind get misaligned and I start freaking out, but at least I know when this is going to happen and can prepare.  Music has really helped me.  There is nothing like listening to a beautiful song to lift you back on your feet.  Beauty can be the aggressive voice of Henry Rollins to the soothing voice of Jonathan Bunch (sense field).  Music makes me feel whole again.  There is just something so magical about putting a little shiny disc into a CD player and having instant relief.

Majoring in psychology helped me understand more about my problems, why I was so fixated on certain things. I gained so much insight during the four years I spent at school.  Some might say that I'm mean and heartless. I'm not. I am not very trusting, anxious and sometimes evil. But at least I know about it. I don't fake what I feel. If I hate you, you know about it. Would you rather someone pretend to like you when inside they want to rip your throat out? No thanks.  If you can't be honest with ourself, good luck trying to be honest with anyone else.