Nice to meet you.
My name is Liz. I have been alive for 23 years, 2 months, and 10 days so far. My heart has beaten over 1 billion times, and that number keeps on growing every second.
I am scared for my future. I have been unhealthy for a very long time, and with each passing year, my tenuous grip on reality becomes weaker and weaker.
When the doctors saw me today, they had a few things to say.
- I have suffered from religious trauma.
- I have frequent episodes of psychosis.
- I am highly likely to have autism.
- I need to find a purpose in life (a job, a hobby, etc.)
- I need to stay away from my family.
These five things are difficult for me to accept. It is much easier for me to accept the medication, since there is a lot less thought that goes into swallowing down a couple of pills. Accepting hard truths like these requires a lot of energy.
Most people my age have a pretty good sense of who they are. I do not. I’ve always known I was strange, I believe I have the ability to read minds to an extent. I know what people think when they see me. They think I am strange. That I do not belong.
Because of this, I have been researching humans and studying them closely. I can mimic their behavior almost perfectly at this point, but it is still just…slightly off. Different enough for people to become suspicious of me.
I take my medicine and I hide from everyone until I’m forced to interact. It is extremely tiring doing all the math in my head to determine how exactly each person expects me to behave. I am always playing a role, to the point where I have thousands of different personalities and I’ve lost sight of which one is really me.
Currently, I am in the psychiatric ward. It is okay. I don’t mind it. It is quiet and I know if something happens, I will be safe. I’m not safe out in the real world, but there is a sense of guilt deep inside of me – I know I am only growing older, and I long to lead a normal life. I am scared to try. I do not like failing at things, and I do not like putting myself in situations with a lot of people.
I am scared of babies and dogs and eyes and loud noises. I am scared of when the buildings start to bend. I am scared of when my thoughts disappear and I can only think in shapes and colors. I am scared of my body and what lives inside it.
I am very, very scared.
This is my final month in hospital. After that, I have to figure everything out myself. Where will I live? How will I make money? How will I continue to hide from the world? I am absolutely terrified that the answers to these questions do not exist.
Tomorrow, I am seeing my family.
And I am scared.