“It can take days and days before I even shower properly, or do the dishes, or open the windows.”
When I finally got myself together and went to see a psychiatrist, I already had done a lot of bulls**t. Too many wrong, stupid, nonsense and embarrassing bulls**t. For years. Decades. Let’s say, since I have memories. The last straw was a phone call with my mother. I had a couple of shots of tequila…
