Being brought up, in a broken, and beyond fixable system, and being constantly exposed to something beyond your control is miserable.
I can recall the amount of terrible and trying times, in which I thought the concept of hope was hopeless.
It started with being adopted after jumping from unstable environments to group homes. Then it was my manic mind, and constantly seeing things that didn't exist, than being diagnosed with a disorder I did not have.
After being delegated to an awful therapist, for the past three years, telling me I was deluded, it took all my effort to refuse her diagnosis. Persistent depression, and delusions, with my treatment being meds and rest.
There was no other possible explanation. I just had to be.
My long red hair, green eyes, and strange and awkward personality type, meant friends weren't exactly my strong point.
It was late. Very late.
I saw a girl with swishing red hair, running out of a shoddy club, looking distressed, with a blond weirdo following her.
I was one to be nosy, but it couldn't hurt helping an innocent civilian. I was no vigilante, but I guess every town has its form of spider man.
"Hey, you freak, why are you following her!", I yelled.
That caught his attention, but he was far from impressed.
"Hey you, I know it's New York, but it doesn't mean you can openly stalk others without getting caught!", I yelled, whilst approaching him.
The girl in question suddenly gasped, and looked as if she'd seen a ghost.
Till I actually felt as if I were looking in a mirror.
Something was not right.
I was definitely having a nervous breakdown.
And on queue. I fainted in due time.