Chapter 3
Borderline personality disorder—and friends!
I'm crazy—or so they say.
No, I do not stray away from the term—I am crazy.
Trying to tell an 8-year-old girl she was mental, and everything I believed was all some sort of lie—it wasn't always easy. I pushed back on a lot of It; especially the medications. I didn't know what it was like to be normal—I hated the idea of always being alone—that beautiful little voice helped me through some terrible things—if they were gone, then I would really be alone.
The love of this voice—the friendship it showed me—could not be replaced. Most of the things it encouraged was harmless. A few nights of running naked through the woods and some restless delusions. All in all, it was harmless.
Until it wasn't.
