According to my therapist (ex-therapist, precisely), I have no mental issues. It is hard for me to believe that.
Then again, I do believe a lot of what is considered mental illness is just another way to segregate people in smaller groups, and for people to gain money selling medication. I am not trying to make little of the suffering of others. Rather, I think someone who does evil things to other is the truly mentally ill, not someone who is bipolar, etc. I hope that makes sense.
Deep depression, extreme agoraphobia, moderate to heavy OCD, intense anxiety & panic attacks (mostly in regards to being outside), frequent paranoia (crazy delusions in my head that I can't seem to shake, which just get entrenched further due to my aforementioned OCD) and recently a few bouts of derealization (although, admittedly, that was just due to some THC that didn't agree with my messed up head). I think that covers everything. I've got a rap sheet a mile long when it comes to the various diagnoses & professional opinions from all the shrinks, counselors, psychologists & therapists my mom dragged me to in the year or two prior to me becoming a hermit. Hell, she even took me to see some "energy healers", as absurd as that sounds. Not only that, but she also went as far as to have these two ladies who claimed to be mediums come to our house to "cleanse the area of negative spirits", in the off chance these "spirits" were somehow "corrupting my soul's journey". They even had to give me an oiled massage at one point, for whatever damn reason. Had a fold-out table & everything too. They also purported to have "crossed over" the souls of both my biological grandmother on my mom's side (who killed herself) & a dead guy next door from many years ago (who also killed himself). It was the weirdest fucking shit man. Like an episode of Space Ghost Coast to Coast or Sealab 2021 playing out in real life. The bizarre rituals people come up with, and I'm supposed to be the crazy one. Seriously, what a joke. Unfortunately, it also cost a bloody arm and a leg to bring them here in the first place, which makes the whole thing even more ridiculous & tragic. And what do you know? The next day rolls around and it was just back to the same old, same old. Nothing ended up changing because of course it fucking wouldn't. They were just a couple of scummy, deluded con artists looking to swindle desperate & hopeless people by exploiting their nonsensical superstitions & general belief in bullshit hokum. To be honest though, even if they had some sort of money back guarantee, my mother wouldn't have taken it. Doing so would've demolished her world view at the time and taken away what very little remained of the hope that I'd somehow "get better". which is something she absolutely wasn't willing to do, no matter the cost of keeping the bubble intact. She came around, though. She's still pretty crazy with the new agey crap, but not nearly as much as she used to be (thank fucking goodness). Meanwhile, despite all the long past shenanigans, I've just gotten worse & worse, which is to be expected, I suppose. We both have.
I was misdiagnosed with autism and now a lot of evidence points to me having either dissociative identity disorder or just severe dissociative issues in general. I've been trying to receive help for more than a decade and I'm in my 20's and my misdiagnosis caused me to never being able to get a car, a proper job and i know in the future i will never have a proper adult life with friends and a family, so there's no point in me being here.
DID is also fucking hell and I wpuld rather kill myself than deal with it anymore.
20, but have been abused from the day one basically. At this point deeply depressed, anxious, paranoid, suspect PTSD (no recollection of what happened, only sense of fear left and constant nightmares, PAs because of very specific events). My abuser considered me autistic but not sure - definitely can't function properly with other people, but how much of it supposedly autism and not a combination of some other disorders - no idea. Most of the days can't get out of bed, don't shower, eat whatever. Cry a lot just because. Called lazy and ungrateful by the same people who got me here, but denied any therapy because "depression is not real, you're fine" and I should sort it out myself. Well, don't really want any help by now.