Roberta

I have a pet bublle. Imaginary. It’s my comfort zone. I don’t know when i put it in my head, but the worl is a dangerous place. Some days I feel like a normal person, but is rare. I feel pressured all the time. From ordinary decisions about my life to glances of complete estrangers. I’m 39 years old and I can’t say for sure since when this feelings accompany me. I know was a child. By my own decision, I call all this symptoms of Depression. I decided this after countless diagnoses I received from different professionals throughout my life. And for proper purpose, I declare: never been freshness or drama, not even to call attention, and neither was it to miss school or work. It wasn’t because I don’t have willpower. Much less for lack of faith. It was fear. From what? I don’t know. Everithing. Every day is a fight. With me and the world. And every day is a victory to have survived them all. Never been easy. Despite of the help. Psychiatrists, Psychologists, drugs, friends and family. After all, I’m grateful for everything and I know I’m special. I see you throuth me.