Imagine sitting at home, watching tv, after a long day doing whatever it is that you do when you aren't at home. It's an alright show, not particularly thrilling but better than anything else that's on, it hold's your attention. You shrug your shoulders--maybe you didn't even realize you were going to do it--you shrug them again. This is a simple motor tic, one creates a chain reaction. Now that you know it's happening you can try to suppress it, but you know that suppressing the tic will cause a flood of them once you relax. This is Tourette's syndrome.

Tourette's syndrome is a neurological disorder that causes various verbal and motor tics. Tics can be divided into simple and complex depending on the difficulty. Simple tics might be a bark, blinking, shrugging. Complex tics include repeating a word someone says, hopping; one of my old tics was dancing. The best way to combat the tics seems to be keeping your mind busy. Whether it stops the tics from happening or distracts you so you don't notice them, I don't know.

Reactive ticcing--if you've ever seen two or more people with Tourette's in the same space, you'll know what this is. Essentially, one of them tics and causes the others to start ticcing. Thinking about ticcing alone can cause them, seeing or having one has an even stronger effect.

Coprolalia--Ah, coprolalia, the go-to Tourette's stereotype. When people think of Tourette's, they automatically think of swearing randomly. But how common is it really? Only about 10% of Tourette's patients exhibit compulsive swearing. Usually it stems from an impulse to say something forbidden, not any desire on their part.

Tourette's Plus--Tourette's is a disorder that rarely occurs on it's own. OCD is the most common comorbid disorder and studies have confirmed a correlation between the two. ADHD is also common, though studies to find a neurological correlation have been inconclusive.

I think I have Tourette's, what do I do now?
If you have severe tics that hinder your daily life, such as tics where you touch strangers, then a doctor can give you medicine to lessen the severity of your tics. For most people, medicine is unnecessary and unwanted.  The comorbid conditions tend to cause more distress than the Tourette's does.

Tics themselves can change, must be present for at least one year, with a tic free period of no longer than three months, for a diagnosis. The onset must be before the age of 18, to meet the current diagnostic criteria. Even though I was diagnosed at 22, I had had symptoms for years, going all the way back to age six or seven, they were just not severe enough to recognize. I hummed and twirled mostly. My family was bothered by the humming more than anything else but assumed they were just normal childhood behaviors. I didn't notice anything was strange until I was 20 and started meowing. Fortunately it's low-key and often reactionary, so most people I meet don't notice it for weeks. If I'm around people who like to make sounds, however, it can happen to the point where I become self conscious--even anxious.

Even though the tics can be annoying, I find that I have a certain pride about it. Unlike many disorders, there is no associated pain or a shortened life-span, and mild cases like mine can easily be accepted as a quirk. I've actually had friends say they wouldn't want me to get rid of the tics, because they associate them with me. And they can be an awesome screening system to identify and get rid of jerks in the friend-making process.

Dear Matt,

I know you will likely never read this but, as I no longer have your address or phone number, this is my only outlet. I need to get this off my chest and I do hope that someday you will read it. I'm sorry, truly sorry, that we had to part. Whether you believe me or not, it was the hardest thing I've ever done and sometimes it still plagues me. I don't doubt that it was the right thing to do; I just wish I knew how you were (and if you are still alive).

I did love you. Not the way that you wanted me to, but in the only way that matters to me. I loved you as a friend. To have you as a boyfriend might have actually lowered your importance to me. I didn't understand this then. I wrote you a letter when you were in the ICU. Two actually. I wanted my mom to deliver it to you in case you woke up but I never did. After a while I felt that too many days had passed and that it would be better for both of us to just let it go. A clean break, I suppose.

When I got a new phone last summer, I didn't transfer your number. I thought it unnecessary and just too painful. I started to get these calls from an 817 number, always during my 11:30 class and never with a message. Because these phone call happen every few months, it is impossible for me to see if they come from the same number but I finally got to answer one last week--and the caller never responded. If it is you, I would have liked to speak with you, to know you're okay.

I don't regret meeting you again. You were a good friend to me and made that second stay at Millwood tolerable! I was still in recovery and I was afraid that I couldn't continue getting better if I was always worried about you. A part of it was manipulative as well, I'll admit. I knew that I was important to you and I hoped that, by carrying through with our boundary, I could help you. I had offered to help you through any crisis as long as you would reach out to me, and it still did nothing. That day I learned that I cared even more for your life than my own. I had to hope that my leaving would help you see that.

I'm happy now and (somewhat) sane. And I think of you every time I hear Blue October's "Picking up Pieces." A song I loved now gives me a knot in my stomach, and all I can think of is you. I hope that you are still out there and that you are happy. I want you to know that I don't hate you and I didn't hate you then either, just very sad. Please don't give up. And for God's sake, please don't die.

Your friend,
Ashley

If you could go back, knowing what you do now?

Disregarding the obvious and ultimately pointless answers like not taking all those pills, this is an easy question for me. Preventing a single regrettable act is a moot point in this case, because people in tough spots are surprisingly hard to deter. If those things didn't happen then/in that way, I don't doubt they would have happened in some other manner. No, if I could change something, anything, I would have sought help much sooner.

It's been only about three years since I was diagnosed with Major Depression. That doesn't seem like long, but I have suffered the effects of it my entire life and I'd just been too scared to come forward. I remember looking up the symptoms and thinking it sounded like me, but dismissing it because surely Depression had to be worse than what I felt. By the time I did learn that I did in fact have it, I had to be hospitalized, withdrawn from school, and gotten myself neck-deep in a destructive friendship.

I am not one of those people that believes that all labels suck or all you need is to take vitamins/think positive and your depression will magically vanish. Maybe those things are true for you and maybe they aren't but I know that two years of therapy have rendered me very capable of dealing with a crisis constructively (and I've got an amazing self-esteem) but only when my meds are in working order. I have a true chemical-depression and understand that now. I am still learning everyday how to work with my disorders to improve my symptoms and quality of life. I've made great strides in three years, but I wish sometimes that I had been able to start sooner. How wonderful four years--five years--would be!