People say you should go to the doctor if you feel sick or dying. But what if there’s a doctor who makes you ruin yourself?
Before ,,The catastrophic history of me and myself” started, I felt possessed. Not by a red powerful demon with fire in his eyes as you see on Discovery channel in those movies with exorcism. I felt possessed by one of my personalities. The cold and evil one. I was unable to have feelings for people or material things and my soul never felt ,,affection”, ,,attraction”, ,,connection”. I had no friends, no lovers, no enemies. Everyone thought I am depressive and I need a doctor but I swear I felt happy and in that chaos and ignorance, I’ve found my calm. I felt alive. I never needed a doctor to save me from myself.
And when he appeared
Everything I built crashed in front of my eyes, in my hands, in my soul and on my body.
In those two and a half years with his presence around me I became emotionally unstable, fragile, unable to control my crying or feelings, depressive, my self esteem was three feet underground, I felt useless, unloved, alone.
He actually made me think I need a psychiatrist, but the only thing I needed was a friend.
You have to be an imbecile or enough immature to strongly believe that you can control feelings, connections based on a weird form of energy or Love. For him, everything was only in my mind.
I loved you for no reason. I didn’t loved you because you were handsome, smart, weird, ,,classy asshole”, or because you seemed to be the one for me. I loved you because some shitty Divinity wanted to play with people and made you my fake soulmate. I loved you because I had no choice.
Those years of my life were the hardest because I was fighting against what I fell and I lost every time. I was so sick of moving in circle, running and coming back to him that the only thing I had for myself was disgust. He hurt me, he made me ruin myself and the worst part was that I wanted to became a doctor because of him.
You don’t block or erase people from your life. You keep them alive because it is easier for you to remember that you survived, recovered and that you had the force and maturity to move on.
In the last year I recreated myself, as an artist, as a writer, as a future biomedical engineer, as a human being. Healing is a long and painful process but in the end, you find yourself again – happy – free – loved – powerful – but this time, not alone.
I am my own God. After that overwhelming experience I know myself better, I understand connections between people and I do not believe in coincidences anymore. Things always happen for a reason, but you’ll figure it out a few years later.
I don’t believe in doctors anymore, but I do believe in friends. And the worst part of this story is that I’ve lost a possible-the-best-friend I could’ve had.