For 25 years of my life - and this topic can be seen on my blog, it turned out that besides having many drug addictions I've had ''friends'' who were all interconnected with this - and music. Bandmates. Truth is, I've only had three girlfriends my entire life and never a sexual relationship with anyone else. I had to lie, mimicking my father, who suffers from paranoid schizophrenia, but also destroyed the lives of my entire family, me, my brother (who deemed to be a bastard son when he had his outbreak while spoiling me and doing everything in the world to make me hate my mother, who he deemed to be a *****, who also plotted and slept with his co-workers - and then eventually his other girlfriends too after she divorced him in 1986), who acts as the most honest man in the world yet is a misogynist, only sleeps with prostitutes nowadays - and ''so did I''.

Nope. It was all to fit in with this group of people who judge me as the ''freak of the 'gang''' ''loser'', ''druggie'', ''sucker'', anything bad you can find - unless I had my talents in music (keyboards/sax/bass, which I can't play anymore due to a bad junk shot in my right arm, and my voice, which I lost due to excessive smoking and untrained decades of screaming) or drugs, or money for drugs, or anything that was in their interest - they never wanted to know about me and the way I felt, and left me flat when I didn't have any of those things.

So after years of being misdiagnosed and being a lab rat for drug dealers (i.e. psychiatrists) with a new psychiatrist, a therapist, research on the internet and in books, I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality disorder. It took weeks for me to open an email from my shrink with a pdf of a book about the subject, and I've been crying for three months, and in the last one and I half, I'm still bedridden with windows shut, without eating anything, reaching for help anywhere I could (until I found here) because when I asked them for help ( my so-called friends, they didn't pay attention, and when finally questioning their friendship, they literally told me to f- off.

For the last six days I've been having a turbulence of emotions, mainly anger, and feeling of loss because I've cut contact with them FOR GOOD, sending them a nice farewell message. Yesterday was the first time I started reconnecting with the world with a childhood friend who isn't part of that contingent. He understood me. Before I spent two days without sleeping, smoking like a chimney, crying, ovbermedicating myself to deal and cope, feeling happy/sad/angry/alone/anything you can think of. Then a person who I admire who was born in the same day and year as me helped me, if only indirectly, with an article about making new friends on her site that I follow on facebook. It was when my hopes began to raise up, and from yesterday to today, I finally slept nicely anow I feel free, and willing to find new friends.

The problem is that I don't know how to do that very well....if at all. It will take years of therapy to recover from the trauma I lived, and even with that article, the books and everything, I feel trapped. I can't interact with people.

But one thing's for sure - I'm free.