I don't really know if this could be a trigger or not...probably could. I guess I'll just say possible trigger warning here.
Anyway, here's my story. I'm almost certain I have Munchausen. Ever since I was younger, I've loved hospitals, and always felt jealous of others who got to go there. In third grade, I learned that another girl in my class had Arthritis. She was getting all sorts of attention, and she got to take the elevator instead of the stairs. Now, everyone else felt sorry for her, but I was very envious. I wanted that attention. So, I complained to my parents about my knees and ankles hurting. They did, a little bit, but I streatched it farther, and started to say that every day. My parents took me to the doctor, and they drew my blood to test for arthritis. I tried to keep a straight fact, but it was hard not to smile. I was really hoping that the tests would tirn out positive. Of course, they were negative. After this, I stopped for a while, but later in the year a second grader was diagnosed with lymphoma. I start to become jealous again, but don't do anything crazy. Fast forward to forth grade when I break my arm. I get so much attention, and everyong signs my cast so I want more. After the broken arm, I start to complain of headaches...and I get a neurologist appointment and put on meds I don't need. I continue to complain of headaches, and go back to the neurologist and get put on new meds. These don't work either, and I go through 3 more meds until I get an MRI. I looooveeed this because I got to walk around the hospital in scrubs with an IV in my arm. I loved the way I thought people felt sorry for me. Nothing shows up on the MRI, so I'm put on another set of meds. I stop faking the headaches and look for something new. Now, let's fast foreard again to in 7th grade when I broke my foot on purpose for attention. I loved the way it felt so much that I broke it again after it healed. I didn't care about the pain, I was so wrapped up in my disease, that I didn't know I had. Now I'm in 9th grade and I've had two surgeries on that foot because of myself. I hurt it so badly....yet I still don't care. I care...yet I don't...does that even make sense? I guess, when I'm caught up in the attention and feeling of importance I don't care, yet when I finally realize what I did, I do. The sad thing is, I can't stop myself. Also, I don't think it's a result of not enough attention from my parents when I was younger, as they've always been there for me and whatnot. My mind is just so messed up....I need help yet I don't know how to ask for it.
Or just someone to talk to.
Thanks for listening. I needed to get that out...I know I'm not as bad as some people on here, but I want to stop myself before I become that way.