How we met.

Since I was a young child, I always knew I was a bit different from the other kids, but I never knew or could pinpoint why or how or what made me different. I had friends, but now looking back on it they didn’t like me as much as they liked each other. I was accompanied by other kids, but I always felt left out and alone.

Out of the many things that happened to me in my childhood, the memory of how bad I felt inside and outside school is the only thing I strongly remember. Everything else seems blocked.

When I was fifteen or sixteen I began to quietly sit in my room a lot. I had gained more trust in my newer friends at that time, but I was so done with everything else in my life. Family, future career, all of it. Those things seemed either so bland or so terrifying, and I didn’t want to deal with it.

Apparently that showed well, as my friends became concerned with my nonchalant behavior towards many things that I used to be eccentric about. They made me go to a school counselor, and then I was assigned a psychologist outside of school.

As a sensitive person, things were starting to get scary for me. Again, I would sit in my room alone as usual, but I would also sometimes cry about everything building up. I was too nervous, too shy to say anything to anyone. I just wanted to seem ‘normal’.

I was diagnosed with Depressive Anxiety Disorder. It was during the first few weeks of seeing this psychologist that Enzie showed up.

Or wait, maybe it was before I met the psychologist. Yes, I remember my first screening coming up with Psychosis as well.

Either way, Enzie showed up almost out of nowhere, while I was sitting in my room. Sort of. But she wasn’t very happy to exist.

She hurt me. And she stayed ever since.

enzie bw.png
Enzie white on black.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s