“I have schizophrenia”
Me: “wait, actually?”
“The voices in my head tell me so”
“I hate when my mom has bipolar episodes”
Me: “Your mom is bipolar?”
“Yeah she yelled at me in the store and triggered my PTSD”
Me: “oh”
“Man my PTSD and schizophrenia are acting up today”
Me: “Have you even been diagnosed?”
“You don’t need a diagnoses for struggling!”
“You’ll never know how hard my life is!”
“Why are you crying? You’re lucky you have such a good life…”
“You don’t have REAL trauma, your parents are still together”
“My dad used to hit me, now he mentally abuses me.. Blah blah blah more trauma dumping”
“You’re so needy, it’s kinda hot~”
Me who’s literally having a mental breakdown crying on his shoulder
“I’m just going through so much, you wouldn’t understand”
“I have so many disorders”
“Did a doctor tell you?”
“No, but I have the symptoms”
“You know, things like schizophrenia aren’t things you can self diagnose, as, by nature they make your thoughts scattered or unclear. So it would be impossible to self diagnose. You shouldn’t self diagnose anything…”
“Shut up! You don’t understand how hard constant hallucinations are!”
I do actually struggle with auditory and sensory hallucinations… “Fine”
I wish I could’ve been brave enough to say something, but he would have just spewed the same lies at me that I’m not good enough… I’m so glad I’m not with him anymore. But even just seeing him brings the memories back, god, and he paints me as the villain, I don’t know what I did…