This is exactly the kind of thing that I shouldn't be obsessing over, but I've already started and I need answers. I have talked about my onset on here, making assumptions each time. I assumed that I was depressed, and I assumed that I was psychotic as a result of the depression. But today, I looked through the DSM criteria for depression and realized that at the time, I only met two of them. Not nearly enough to qualify as a major depressive episode, let alone enough to cause a break with reality! It's possible that I had psychosis alone, but child-onset schizophrenia/schizoaffective disorder is EXTREMELY rare. It also has a really bad prognosis, while I've managed to do relatively well. So, in an attempt to solve this riddle, I'm asking for your help. I'll walk you through my first "episode" in detail.

Before: From birth until 10 years of age, I was a happy kid. I had attention problems, and the other children often thought that I was "weird", but I didn't care. I had plenty of friends, and just loved to be around people. I was diagnosed with a seizure disorder when I was in third grade, and started seeing a therapist around that time for some of my "behavioral problems". (I flapped my hands and got into other people's personal space too much). But overall, I was very satisfied with my life, a happy child.

About a year before: I remember feeling "different" for the first time at age 10. I remember it distinctly; I was in line at Walmart, and I just felt separated from other people. Sometime close to my 11th birthday, I started developing OCD symptoms. I was obsessed with germs and contamination, terrified that I would start an epidemic and kill someone. I washed my hands 30+ times per day, until they bled (which was a problem for me, because blood was on my list of contaminated substances!). I also had some bizarre obsessions; I thought that a monster in my basement had kidnapped my dad and replaced him with a robot. If I didn't fold the towels in a certain way, they'd hurt him. I also remember being scared that my food and drink had been poisoned. The summer before I turned 12, I had back surgery. I believe that the stress from that may have made things worse for me mentally. Despite all of this, I was still doing pretty well.

The beginning: The first day of sixth grade,shortly after my 12th birthday, I got on the bus to sit by my best friend. She pointed to the seat across from her. She continued distancing herself from me, which made me feel depressed. I cried a lot, and felt worthless and guilty. I felt like everyone was judging me, including my family, my peers, and my piano teacher. Despite this, this period of low mood was much milder than the depressions I would get later in life. My academic performance was unaffected (in fact, I actually grew a lot intellectually during this time!). I never even considered suicide. My social life, however, was severely affected. I withdrew from all my friends, feeling that they all hated me. I STILL have social problems because I can't shake the feeling that no one wants anything to do with me. I also became obsessed with witchcraft during this time. My dog was deathly sick, so I put a spell on her to preserve her health. Interestingly enough, she lived until I was a junior in high school.

The scary stuff: This is the part that confuses me the most. One day I was doing my homework. I was bored, and I started wondering if people could be attracted to inanimate objects. I started talking to a slip of paper, that I named "Jeff". Jeff became my boyfriend, and soon became greater than just a slip of paper, but an invisible presence that followed me around everywhere. I talked to him about everything. He soon confided to me that he was really the Devil, but that that was ok because he still loved me. This didn't scare me, but it explained a lot to me, like why he was invisible. We continued our relationship. A few days later, I thought that we had sex.

I immediately felt immensely guilty for hurting God like that. I became hyper-religious, trying to make up for my sin. I read my Bible and prayed during recess, while the other kids played kickball. Soon it became clear to me what I had to do. I had to run away from home and become God's prophet, trying to convince other people to convert to Christianity. This made me feel really nervous, because I loved my family and had never been more than a block away from my house unaccompanied before. But God told me to do it... One Friday afternoon, I was at my kitchen table, praying. I heard a masculine voice inside my head say "Go". I knew who that was. Well, I was not strong enough to go...I ended up staying home and begging God for forgiveness. With time, the madness faded, but it took years for me to realize that the events I've described here were probably not real.

If you have questions, feel free to ask. I need help determining

A). If I was clinically depressed during this time

and

B). if I was psychotic (or just a kid with a really vivid imagination).

My pdoc doesn't know any of this (I was too scared that he'd think I was crazy). But during my next appointment, I think I'm going to tell him what happened and ask for his professional insight into those two questions.