Sunday evening. So much has passed since I came home last year from the hospital. All that progress I’ve made. To experience something that was so horrible, probably the worst ever. And to be part of an treatment that more looked like 1940s experiments. It’s unbelievable that I even speak up about this, and this was Sweden. 2022.

Now that I look back, I can’t still help thinking about my poor parents. Their son, just 38, being treated like that. Humiliated. And everything was based on that I declined my parents to visit me, that I was in “bad mood” to the treaters and caretakers (those who are one rang bellow nurses), “didn’t wanted” to take medicines - so they gave me that in needles (read sleeping-treatment). All notorious lies they told me and then other lies to my parents. And that I pulled me up, from all of this crap. That is unforgettable, and that is why it will be part of me for a long time.

So it’s no wonder why I sometimes wake up at 3 am, after getting some of those flashbacks even in my dreams. I know that the brain needs to process all of this, and that best medicine is to talk about it with some professional. And that is why I took contact this year. To take control of all of this, with some help from my parents.

Yet, I see hope. No matter how dark stuff I went through, no matter how all hope seemed to be gone, I saw an window with openings. And we all need windows with openings - even if it’s only one. Cause that is how you will be remoulded again, to be a stronger person with strong character. To be wiser, to see ahead those singles before you get burned - or dipped. No one have to suffer for decades. There is help out there. And that is why I, dear reader, will after best possible way, try to guide you here and in this forum how to live your life. How to enjoy it and how to embrace it. I might be young, but I have lot of experience - for good and bad.

Skickat från min iPhone med Tapatalk