In 2018, my psychologist didn't know what to diagnose me as, so she scheduled me with someone else who made me do a Rorschach test and fill out a fill in the bubble test that was... 300 questions I think? I remember she read the results to me. He said the Rorschach was idiosyncratic, and I was faking whatever I had.

All I wanted was a diagnosis. Then, in 2019, I ended up in the hospital for about a week, and was transferred to a mental health hospital for awhile longer.

I had a second interview for a job I wanted, and asked them to use my phone to join the interview meeting. They allowed me to a supervised call with the interview committee, where I distinctly remember telling them I wanted out more than I want fingers.

I didn't get the job.

After, the supervisor asked if I wanted to call my dad. I did. I forget that part, but I asked if I could call my friend after, and she allowed that, over speakerphone. My friend asked what I was diagnosed with. I didn't know. The lady asked if I wanted her to tell me and my friend.

Schizoaffective disorder, depressive type.
Generalized anxiety disorder.
PTSD.

It felt so good for someone to listen to me, and diagnose me. Because it meant I wasn't faking it. It felt like an insidious paranoia that I was just doing this for attention wasn't true.

Anyways, I hope you're all listened to.