Paranoia?

Everytime my mother came by with her worries about me, id put on a mask.

Told her that "Everything is fine". I always did.
Answered all her question, with answeres she wanted to hear.

Answeres i told just to get her out of my apartment, so i could vanish again.

For a long time my mom really belived me, that everything was fine with me.

For a long time i fooled everyone around me, but it didnt take long before it got noticed.

Noticed that i actually was the opposite of fine, i was in horrible shape.

As i was feeling the most down, i shut down myself completley.

Didnt eat, hardly sleep, didnt walk out the apartment. Rather starve then go outside.

I lost track of time, track of days, weeks. And i didnt care about it.

I didnt care about anything, not even myself or my own health.

When the phone called, i just looked at it. When the doorbell rang, i just sat there in silence.

I never answered, i never opend the door for anyone. I wanted them to forget that i existed.

Even my closest friends gave up on me after constantly trying to reach out for me.

But one person didnt give up, one person refused. One person i will thank forever.

She tried so hard over and over, and in the end she broke into my apartment.

At first she just stood there, yelling at me, furious with an anger ive never seen.

I didnt care, she could yell as much as she wanted, for me i didnt exist at all.

But it wasnt til she looked straight in my eyes and said:
"I dont care if you die, but atleast fight til you do" she got to me.

From a blank face i started to cry, like a ocean of feelings bursting out in a snap.

I knew that moment, that i should not be alone. And that i was heavily depressed.

And i had no love of taking care of myself or my surrondings.

I moved in with my mom temporarly, she forced me to eat, forced me to sleep.
She was gentle but with a hand of iron. She didnt let me evolve myself to a stone.
Constantly trying to prove that its worth living. Make me feel something good.
Trying to stop me beeing a ghost. Trying her best to make me smile.
Cooking my favorite food, just to watch me move it around on the plate.
My will of living had come back, but my will of beeing a ghost still existed.


And it was after that i started to see her.

My psychologist. I had got to that point that i knew i wouldnt survive without help.

And i refused to let any doctors talk to me, it was those that made this happen.

My mom made the call, booked he appointment, and even drove me there.

I had no clue of what to say or how to act in such a session. I never been there.

I had never classified myself as insane before. But now when i was insane, i needed it.

As ive been treated like garbage with anyone else in the medical areas,

my expectations was that she would do the same as the others.
To remind me how pathetic, worthless and useless i were.

It ended up clearly the opposite. Before she even met me, she had read threw my journals,

Talked to my mom several times, my doctor and staff from the psycho house i was trapped in.

Before i even opend my mouth to talk with her at that meeting,
she knew what was bothering me, And she knew exactly what to say and what to do.

Her room was not like the rest of the hospital, nothing was white.
Sitting there felt like sitting in someones living room, like i was in someones home.

All dressed up with a funky set of clothes and a strange haircut. Nothing i expected either.

She looked like one of those crazy persons you could meet on the streets. Seriously.

I didnt say a word when she showed me into her office. I didnt want to.

But then she said something that confused me and got me curious at same time.

I couldnt get a word out, frozen by surprise. So i just nodded and she ran out.

Leaving me all alone sitting in the most strange office ive ever seen.

I think she planned that right from the start. To dazzle me.
Or just to prove that someone had not forgotten me, that someone cared.

It didnt take long til i asked her how the heck she could know about my allergy.

She told me that she had looked in journals and cheated by talking to my mom alot.

Silence came, and then she started to talk about that ive gotten treated horrible.

That no doctor in the world should have done what mine done to me.

That everyone needs to listen to me, and start listen fast.


The drastic change.

After that first meeting that had continue for hour and hours, i felt like my old self again.
The vicous blood seeking crusher i am. The one that never gives up, no matter what.

To finally have someone behind my back in this sickness drama made me thirsty for blood.

Not only blood, but revenge, payback, and a end to all this crap that happend.

I was angry. And i was heading for one direction. I wanted heads to roll.

But before i would go on my frenzy hunt, i knew i needed some help, psychologist help.

For the first time in months, my head was talking sense into me.

The next appointment was just the day after the first. We booked the whole week in fact.

She knew something was fishy about how they been treating me.

Not to give up like i had done, to get to the bottom of my sickness ive been having a year.

So she started to make some digging. Asking me alot of questions regarding it,

and looking closely to my journals. And suddenly, she dug up something totally irrelevant.

She had a hunch, but i personally think that she has a super sense or power.

So she sent me to a specialist. I trusted her so i went.

All funky dressed and a sunlight smile on her face. With a office all in purple.

By now i started to think that ive been seeing totally the wrong doctors in my life.

She explained to me shortly about this beeing a totally diffrent investigation.

And that tests needed to be done fast as lightning. I was not used to this.

I was used to denial, ignorance and doctors that did not care at all.

So after the tests were done, she smiled at me and said "I knew i was right!".

Then she started to explain that i shouldnt be worried, and that there was medication.

She thought i was going to get sad or worried. But i only smiled and got happy.

It felt like a weight got lifted of my chest. A huge weight.

"Were 100% sure you got ADHD" That moment i will never forget.

Im even proud about having it. Im proud of my ADHD.

But the biggest problem was still there. The battle with my doctors.

The battle of my body, my aching, my pain, my illness. The battle of my riddle.

I was now stronger in my mind then ever. I wanted to fight. And so i did.

This was just the start of a massive war.

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