<p>My suggestions are in bold, and I'll comment more after the essay:</p>
<p>When you envision a pile of empty cereal boxes, outdated newspapers and broken toys, you may think about the local refuse dump. But these so-called pieces of trash were my treasures, and I hid them in the solitude of my room. In addition to objects, I hoarded all of my swirling emotions inside, until the day my body finally gave way and collapsed. This is the story of my struggle with Obsessive-Compulsive Personality** and Attention Deficit** Disorders.</p>
<p>An Obsessive-Compulsive Personality is characterized by perfectionism and inflexibility. Such a person becomes preoccupied with uncontrollable patterns of thought and action. Symptoms may cause extreme distress and interfere with a person's occupational, educational and social functioning. This definition was my life. My parents had no idea what was wrong. They were dealing with their own neurological problems, attempting to heal their pain with alcohol. Without guidance and unable to stop my obsessive thoughts, I stayed home and plunged deeper and deeper into catastrophe.</p>
<p>In the evenings, my mind was plagued with irrational thoughts such as: If I go to sleep tonight, I wont wake up, or If I blink my eyes a certain number of times, my house wont catch on fire. These ideas ran rampant through my brain*, making it impossible to sleep. During the school year, I often woke after only an hour of sleep. I would then* get ready for school in my disastrous room <a href="which%20was%20so%20devastating%20we%20eventually%20abandoned%20the%20house">b</a>. I **brushed my teeth 4 times during the course of the morning. I tried on precisely 10 outfits before I finally could get dressed*.* I would have to wear at least 5 shirts at a time and kiss the doorknob twice before stepping outside the door, or something unthinkably horrible would happen to me.</p>
<p>I could not bring myself to turn in an imperfect paper or assignment, so I would neglect to turn in anything at all. ** I had no focus because of my ADD.** When I wasnt worried about dying from touching the walls, I was staring at random things in the room that interested me. After school, I could go home, and found comfort in burying myself under my dirt and sheathing myself from the outside world. I could cry without worrying what others thought of me. I could not show the outside world who I really was. It was unthinkable to appear less than angelic. Fear of failure, of finding that I am unworthy, controlled my life. At the same time, I felt this fear of failure turned me into one.</p>
<p>I had my first panic attack in Junior Year. My body gave way to stress and exploded with adrenaline. For then and the next following year when I was a senior, I had about 80 more of them, some mild and others severe. My mother brushed it off as something I was doing to myself. She said I had to work it out on my own. Eventually my disease worsened, I wouldnt even step out of the house unless it was absolutely necessary. My room was my own little world. No one could get to me. Nothing could harm me if I stayed here. It was my cage that I could not escape from.</p>
<p>My cage opened about four months ago. The therapists name was Dr. Yetter*, but he encouraged me to call him Jeff. What could this guy know about me? How could he possibly know what I was going through? During that whole first session, I could see him staring at me. He asked me how I was and I replied that I was fine. He then mentioned to me that I didnt look comfortable. I sat on the couch in a very ladylike but clenched manner. With one leg tucked behind the other and my arms wrapped around myself, I was one big ball of twine waiting to be unraveled. **Over* the course of our next meetings, I discovered who I was and what I wanted to become. With the combination of therapy sessions and medication, I discovered what it was like to live. It was like being re-born.</p>
<p>[End]</p>
<p>I didn't include the conclusion because I know you can do much better than that. The rest of the essay is heartfelt, descriptive, and flows well. You could go easier on the "finally"s, and try to use active voice whenever you can. It adds to the dramatic nature of the piece. It was quite long, and I hope you aren't offended that I cut pretty large portions out. You only need a sampling of the irrational thoughts that crossed your mind and the habits you had to stick to. I wasn't bored in the least reading about your lunchtime routine, but for college essay purposes, it's better to cut down and be strong on a few points.</p>
<p>For the conclusion, you probably shouldn't talk about how well you could have done. It's better to focus on the future. After all, you want to portray to the adcoms that you will be a bright and devoted student. You can start sort of the same, with, "I cannot change my high school record, but my trials shaped my current perspective on life." Talk about how much you appreciate living free of the shackles of your mind, that you feel you can give more to the world because you know true suffering. That's the direction I took with my essay, which is about Anorexia and Bulemia. It's not exactly the same, but both are mind traps.</p>
<p>I'm really happy you were able to conquer this. I'm still in the beginning stages of recovery, started Prozac last week and I think it's starting to take effect :) If you'd like to read my own essay, please PM me. I also have a website, <a href="http://www.geocities.com/triumph256/index.html%5B/url%5D">http://www.geocities.com/triumph256/index.html</a> with writings about eating disorders and living in "the bell jar." Good luck.</p>