The Diagnosis

When the terrace was done in Sweden, I went home to Denmark to start at OPUS. I was gonna go there for 2 years. I was excited for what was gonna happen. I was allocated a contact person, LA, who was at the first meeting. She was a little older than me, she was very smiley and calm. The two of us had to cooperate on getting me better again. Until now the illness had only developed for the worse. Hopefully that would end here. I was so tired and sick.

Over the next period of time, there were a lot of meetings. I told them EVERYTHING. About the snails, the boils and my anxiety, but I also told them about my own world. An imaginary world I created as a child, when I was bored at school. Anything could happen in that world. My imagination was the only limit. I loved that world and happily jumped in there, any time any place. Later I would use that world to escape the horrors of my life. It especially became important to me, when I was with M. It was my sanctuary, my haven.
I started in a social skills training group. The others were discussing their diagnoses. I hadn’t gotten one yet. Maybe I didn’t have a diagnosis as such? At my next meeting with doctor JH, I asked her. You have schizoaffective disorder. What was that? Before starting at OPUS, I had never even heard the word. She explained, I heard schizophrenia-light. I had to go home and Google that. Yup, it was right. Moderate schizophrenia. I was so relieved it wasn’t real schizophrenia. That wouldn’t have been good.

It was time for LA and myself to teach me to go to the supermarket again. At this time I hadn’t been to a supermarket in two years. I had picked the one where we were going to practise. It was Super Best in Matthaeusgade. It looked so nice from the outside and I had never been to a Super Best before. I was gonna meet LA in front of my house and we were gonna walk there together. I was so nervous, but during the walk there, we were talking about everything and nothing. It calmed me. We arrived. My pulse rose. We walked all the way up to the entrance. The doors opened, I felt like I was getting sucked in. Panic set in, I had to get away. No matter where. We left. I felt defeated. It didn’t go as when I had played it the scene in my own world. It might take some time, LA said. We need to do this in your speed.

I went home and got into bed, where it was safe. I looked around. The scratching marks had spread. Some were up so high I had to have been standing up. I didn’t remember. I couldn’t believe, I didn’t make it in to Super Best. Loser. How hard could it be. The feeling of fear, when the doors opened, was still there. Would I ever be able to take the next step and enter? I had to. I had to work hard at it. I had to conquer the anxiety. Failure was not an option.

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