An itch ... that is always scratched, yet never eased.

That is what it feels like to be me some days. Most days. I am yet to be formally 'diagnosed' with Tourette's disorder. I have denied it for years. To give the things I do a name is to admit that I do not control it. One of my greatest fears in life is not being in control of who I am.

The feeling creeps up my spine, across my shoulders, I can feel it and I wonder what will happen next. I am never sure. Sometimes it's just a twitch, others a huge squawking outburst. By the time I find out what it is to be, it's too late. It's done. I have embarrassed myself. I look like a fool. I am a fool. Again. I am convinced now that this is what leads to my constant anxiety, with me from when I wake up to when I finally go off to sleep. The not-knowing what will come out of me, what way I will find of embarrassing myself today.

I can suppress my "tics" ... gosh, tics - to give them a name feels wrong. It's just me, I must be making it up, I must have control, I must choose to be this way? I must make a conscious decision to be the way that I am? Can it really take 27 years to finally realise that maybe ... just maybe, who I am, is not all by my choice? Can I then be forgiving toward myself, can I then learn to like myself just a little, because it's not my fault? Can I truly learn to laugh at myself, rather than pretending to, simply because everyone else is?

I am happier allowing myself to be me, to allow myself to give in to the urges, to move and make the noises I so desperately want/need to. As a teenager I used to shake, almost constantly. Was this the pressure of controlling my desire to behave in this way? I was never comfortable, I could never relax.

I am terrified of relaxing, to relax is to give in to the unknown, to allow the urges to creep up on me, to take over me, to not be in control of myself.

I liked spending time on my own when I was young, where I could freely be myself. To be in constant company was scary, difficult, tiring. To hide in my room, to flick my hands, shrug my shoulders, turn my head, make quiet noises under hidden breath. That is where I was comfortable.

To be able to behave freely now is the biggest relief, just writing this surges emotions inside me. No more hiding. I still doubt myself, still wonder if I am making it up, think that I should just try really really hard. If I try my hardest, then I don't have to do it. But to be on guard 24/7 feels impossible.

I can be on guard whilst on the phone. On guard at an important meeting. Even on guard on a quiet train cabin. But when I am alone it comes back, and it comes back like a rocket.

To be on guard is not as hard as you might imagine. I have read comparisons by Tourette's sufferers to "trying not to blink" ... but I don't feel this fits for me. I would prefer to compare it to trying not to cough when you have a nasty tickle in your throat, or trying not to clear your throat when it has covered over with phlegm. Blinking feels too urgent, too scary.

The feeling that creeps up my spine, I can feel it coming, I can focus really hard on it and almost feel it being pushed back down. I carry on. No one knows.

Should I try harder ... or should I give in? Should I admit it's not my fault? Can I believe that it's not something I can just snap out of? I have been trying for most of my life to "snap out of it" ... how much longer must I keep trying?

An itch ... that is always scratched, yet never eased.