The beginning seems so long ago now that I don’t even know where to start..
I woke up one day in my early 20’s and life didn’t seem so great anymore. I thought that it was down to my environment and life situation at the time (which wasn’t too bad), so I moved.
Different country. Different occupation. Different people. Different life.
Looking back now, it was probably one of the worst decisions that I could have made at that particular time in my life, because after that, I progressively just frickin’ lost it. Lost my sense of self. Lost my ability to be me. Lost pretty much every sense of me that made me, me.
I lost my mind. And it took me a long time to realise (and make various doctors realise), that this chemical imbalance in my brain, is not subject to the immediate circumstances of my life, and/or my environment.
My past is mainly a blur, a sketchy VHS tape that has been recorded over one too many times. Fragments of reality, black and white shadows of uncertainty, did it happen? Didn’t it happen?
And then there is the full blown blackouts. Things that have happened, with other people corroborating that it happened, and me not even having the slightest, minute particle of of a memory of it happening.
It’s a scary thing having events that have occurred in my life (in the past, yet also much more recently) and not knowing what transpired. Not. One. Thing.