When I was younger I used to love watching science fiction on TV. Some part of me needed it to justify real life. I spent nights haunted by nightmares and waking dreams. I was loosing grip of what was reality and what was not, and the TV was the only thing I had to hold on to. I spent the rest of the day time trying to plan and calculate. I needed an answer to my only cry. I needed something to make sense of my curse. Something had to tell me why this shit kept happening to me.
My favourite part of one show I held onto, was the possibility of being imortal and kept in a jar. I decided to apply this outlook to my life. So from that day I kept An imaginary back up of my; brain, sanity and mind in a jar. So if I ever felt like I was starting the descent into madness I could keep hold of anything pure and unbroken. Anything was better than being taken away by 'them'. I was already medicated for the pysical signs of the 'stress'. The last thing I wanted was to be taken away, locked up and treated as an isane inmate.
So I drew up characters, each one varied. There was one for each of my social situations; school, home, and any outside clubs. I used these to hide behind. They gave me hope and something to sheild me from danger.
I have no idea wether this was the first sign I was losing this battle. I was age 11.