Rewriting My Origin Story

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When I reflect back on when I went manic, I think it was a steady, progressive realization of the lack of connection and the depth of my emptiness — despite being surrounded by people who were supposed to be my friends.

They didn’t respect me.
They didn’t truly connect with me.

And the more I realized that, the more weed I smoked. I progressively became more manic — until eventually, I entered psychosis.

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The Illusion That Kept Me Safe

It started with realizing my family never really saw me.
That their love came with conditions — with expectations that I’d be someone else entirely.

I think my mind, desperate to cope, constructed a story where I was someone important.
Someone chosen.
Someone whose pain meant something.

In psychosis, I remember believing I had a spiritual purpose.
That I was on a mission.
That I had to go through this darkness because I was being prepared for something greater.

Looking back, that wasn’t madness.
That was a survival response.

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My Brain Was Protecting Me

Psychosis didn’t mean I was broken.
It meant the weight of truth — of betrayal, of abandonment, of emotional starvation — was too heavy for me to hold all at once.

So my brain tried to carry it for me.
By turning trauma into mythology.
By turning pain into purpose.

And in many ways, it worked.
Because I survived.

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Now I Tell the Truth

Today, I no longer need fantasy to make sense of what happened.

It hurt because it should have hurt.
I felt alone because I was alone.
And I broke because no one came to hold me when I needed it most.

But that doesn’t mean I’m unlovable.
Or unworthy.
Or broken beyond repair.

It means I’ve lived through something real.
And I’m still here.

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I’m Rewriting It Now

This is what healing looks like:

• Naming what really happened.
• Honoring the ways I coped.
• Letting myself grieve the love I didn’t get.
• And writing a new story — not from delusion, but from truth.

I’m not the chosen one.
I’m just someone who never got what they needed.
And I’m learning to give it to myself now.

That’s enough.

That’s everything.