I went to my PCP to get meds for depression. In the midst of the conversation with him, he decided that there was more wrong with me. I took me awhile to accept it... in fact, the very idea of my illness led me to a sort of mini breakdown that required me to be hospitalized. I think it was there, in the hospital that I realized that I was sick. That was just a couple of years ago.

I have lived my whole life with delusions, voices, social anxiety, etc... never comprehending that it was an illness, or that I had treatment options.

Today my problem is that my delusions make more sense that real life. It makes the struggle harder, but I have a life that is worth fighting for.