The other Me, that nobody talks about - ABDL story

It's a english version of my story in ABDL universum.

The me that nobody talks about

We invite you to this polish blog about ABDL https://rokolandia.wordpress.com/

1. Conversation

For a long time now, my thoughts have been focused on the only one I've tried to get rid of,  I’m even keeping trying. Every morning I get up, turn on the coffee maker, pour milk in it and I can't take it anymore. It is not real or logical or anything. I drank one coffee, then another, until Lucrecia began to cry. Angry, I went to the girl's room to take care of a little girl of three years old, or more precisely my daughter.

It's not that I don't like my baby, I dislike what goes through my head. Every day for three years I have been fighting against the attraction to all things childish. I don't understand what it is that has left its mark on my psyche, that I started to dream of putting a stupid pacifier in my mouth, wearing a diaper, shitting in it, shaking a rattle and hugging a pet. It is sick and immoral. I am an adult man, not a child... I hate my head and that voice that says: "Do it!" Sometimes I am afraid I am a pervert who can be jailed immediately and parental rights can be taken from him. The idea of ​​talking to a psychologist only frightens me, I feel that I will be evaluated and treated immediately with psychotropic treatment. Vegetal, prison and social exclusion. Great alternatives.

When I entered the room, I immediately understood what it was about, the smell that came from Lucy's diaper - that's how I diminish her name - was enough signal. I felt envy in my heart for my own daughter, who would not be judged for shitting in a diaper, putting a pacifier in her mouth, crying, being hugged by her mother, drinking a bottle of semolina or playing with another meal. Once, feeling weak, I ate one of the famous baby porridge and felt like a sick bastard. I did not touch it anymore, even to finish the food that the girl left, I preferred that it be covered in mould, and the voice in my head kept screaming and crying internally.

All I know is that I am an adult and nothing can change that. An adult is an adult, and a child is a child. An adult deals with work, wife, society and, above all, children, and not being a child. This stage is over, there was a time to be a little man, now is the time to experience the stage of being a big boy.

When did I start talking about myself as a big boy?

Every day when I cared of the girl, I only dreamed of Renatka returning from work as soon as possible and taking over the parental duties. Being with my daughter attacks my big boy's soul more and more, the stigma in my psyche grows deeper and more painful. The only thing that prevents me from throwing away everything that is normal is the fear of society and being forced  to a treatment in a psychiatric hospital.

Once I tried to find something on the Internet about my "perversion"... but the last table of my rescue was silent. Out of desperation, I decided to create a separate topic on the Internet forum about mental disorders, asking "What is the matter with me that I started dreaming about dressing and behaving like a child?" After the responses, in which the vast majority insulted me from pedophiles, threatening me that they will call the police and put me in the hospital - all the things I mentioned earlier that scared me, I decided that the best solution would be to drop the topic. Waiting for support, or help, I got offenses, that's why every day I fight with myself, like a child with a wooden sword, I stand in front of a flying spaghetti monster.

At what point did I start thinking about those meaningless comparisons?

It is twelve o'clock. It's time for a porridge lunch for Lucy. A spoon plane went straight from a small jar to my daughter's little mouth. I don't know when I started to imagine a big boy in blue pyjamas at the helm of a spoon plane manoeuvring under rubber-ball fire trying to get to the main base of the plush allies, but the monster in the gorge devoured my flying machine and I had to start my adventure again.

Sick, sick, sick. These visualizations appear more and more often, they hit me harder and harder. I'm fed up. Why can't my life go back to normal? Maybe I've never been normal? It’s four o’clock, Renatka will be back soon, and my suffering will finally be over. The big boy will finally rest.

Lucy started playing with dolls, and I wanted to be in the middle of the room like a real big boy who has nothing to play with and all that, so where are my cars and the obstacle course? This big boy in blue pyjamas and with a diaper on turns the steering wheel in a tight corner, the last straight to the big loop, acceleration, I get into the nitro, my head for a moment is in the opposite direction to the right one and then the launcher shoots me in the sky. The porridge, which I ate earlier, bounced off on the faces of the watchers, I shit in my diaper, unsatisfied, I said crying is the best way out and then ... Then Renata entered the room. Finally, a moment of respite for my psyche, I can return to normal!

But then something inspired me to speak to Renata for a moment.

-How's the job going, love? - I started with the most common question we exchange at home.

-Always the same ... -Taxes, taxes and fees, settlements and reports. Very kind of you to remind me of what I hate, honey.

-Just like you remind me about my financial failures, DAHLING. – I pinched her with her favourite text.

-Love grows around us, and those stupidities. - She replied with a smile.

I found that after starting a longer conversation, I could get down to business.

-I don't know about you, but I've been so tired lately that sometimes I feel like I'm a different person.

Has something happened to make you say that? - She asked a little worried, so much so that for a moment she stopped playing with Lucrecia's toys.

-No, nothing, many things are happening, Lucrecia, new job, many things to do, the garden, the parents... Sometimes, I just want to be someone else.

These words sounded so ordinary to Renata that she started playing with Lucy again without much concern.

-It could always be worse. I know, pathetic, but true.

-I'm curious to know how people who are different from everyone else feel.

-Who do you mean, for example?

-Those with a different orientation, or with rare fetishes.

-Surely they don't have it easy.

-Easy, maybe not, the question is whether or not they are hurting others with their otherness.

Renata had to think about it for a while before answering me.

-It depends on what we understand by damage. People closed to otherness can understand it in all the possible aspects of their lives, although it does not concern them directly or even indirectly.

-And even if they don't harm others, the community can exaggerate the problem and destroy the life of someone in the community. Would you be able to help someone like that?

-Honestly? I do not know. There are too many aspects here that could end up hurting me more than this person, or both of us alike. I have a daughter anyway, so I have to take care of her welfare first. Risking a child's future life cannot be at this point of social conflict.

The conversation with Renata gave me some things to think about, but in the end it didn't give any solution to my problem. Yes, my daughter is the most important thing to me, so I will try to fight against this strangeness that is emptying my mind.

 

2. Help

 

Every day more and more often, as I've probably already mentioned, or maybe I didn't mention it? Never mind. Every day, I start to fantasize about childish behaviour. The worst thing is that every time I start to lose what is real and what is a dream. In one minute I am an adult, in the next I am a child, in the third I try to return to normality and to my daily order. I don't know what to do, I lack support, I feel alone in my lonely struggle, in which I struggle with my own psyche, my perversion. I know people have different schisms, but I would never suspect something like that would happen to me, after all, I've always been ... normal? And again, I ask myself, "Are you sure I've always been normal?" Thank God Renatka took over my duties and for a moment everything is as before.

I came back from work and Renata went to do her homework while I stayed with my Lucrecia. It is the next day, in which I am afraid of what is going to happen, that is, the perversion will try to take control over me again and I will lose my sense of normality. What would I give up for not feeling like this, like a child?

Like a little baby in a diaper, eating a little porridge from a jar, while dirtying his blue pyjamas and screaming in discontent, because it's not my fault it's dirty. After all, I'm just a little boy. An innocent boy who should come out with his wooden sword to kill the night monsters from under his bed.

Once again, after returning to "normal", I looked with disgust at my daughter. I love her, but I feel desperate at her side, like a rag that cleans the floor. It makes me wonder if this is just because of my feeling of helplessness in this situation, or maybe I am really starting to dislike my own daughter. I don't even want to think of it that way, considering how happy I was when Lucy came into this world. The fear that I have already mentioned deprives me of common sense, it begins to blind my love for my own daughter, who is my whole world with my wife. The next nine hours of my life will be a struggle to survive my twisted psyche, waiting for Renatka to return from work as quickly and easily as possible.

I am tired, very tired. I would like to sleep, slowly, maybe screaming from time to time. Because why not? Lie down comfortably in my blue pyjamas on the bed, stretch the comforter under my legs so that the monsters under the bed don't try to kidnap me in the middle of the night. It is time to hug my knight-guard who, with his bravery and courage, will save a helpless child like me.

Shopping center, shopping time. I wanted to buy a couple of trinkets for my house as double-sided, fluorescent and duct tape, vegetable and fruit seeds for my home garden, detergent and maybe new clothes and some sports accessories as I have in tendency. It seems that nothing can ruin my short shopping plan until I went through the popular children's network.

My psyche had never before made such a scene when I was shopping, and yet it happened. I was caught up in this "perversion," the childish part of me tried to cut a hole in my chest again and take hold of me. I grabbed my head, trying to control the pain that was coming, that was in my temples and filtered through my body from head to toe. This thing in my psyche started attacking me even outside my house, I was afraid that one day it would happen, but I didn't think it would happen that fast. I had to sit down, catch my breath, so as soon as possible I looked for an empty bench where I could rest, or at least calm down a bit. "Why me? Why me? Why me? Why me?" asked my "normal" side of the mind. "What is normal?" He kept asking. "I'm not normal!" he screamed terrified.

I don't know how or when I got home. I unpacked my purchases and already wanted to throw the empty plastic bags in the trash, but something got in my way. I looked inside the bag, to make sure I unpacked everything, and then rubbed my eyes in amazement. A new children's pacifier was at the bottom of the plastic bag. I frantically tossed the bag in the trash so I wouldn't have to look at it for fear the mall headache would hit me again. Where it came from? I took my wallet and looked for today's receipts, until I finally found the one that came from the children's network. A pacifier for children, five zloty and ninety-nine cents.

-Christ, am I starting to lose my mind? - I asked myself.

The idea of ​​visiting a psychologist began to circulate in my head more and more often, and with it the fear of social exclusion, fear of the police, fear of... myself. The only question is, how much longer can I deal with what happens to me by myself? Can you twenty-four on seven prevent your mind from exploding? I do not know what to do. No school and no parent has prepared me for something like this. One more day I will wonder what happens to me, another day I will feel fear. I am getting tired.

I just want to sleep. "With a pacifier?" asked a voice in my head.

Probably each of us, at least once in our lives, felt at the same time incredibly calm, relaxed, joyous, and at the same time, alternating with positive behaviours, felt the negative ones like disorientation, discomfort and fear. As I mentioned before, my psyche is at war with itself. Two armies of "adults" and children collide within me alternately, and the most interesting thing is that neither of them really suffers, this pain is only experienced by what is a whole in its material form. As such, I am nothing to the world, or at least I should be, but the world, or at least the one we know, is more complicated.

Humans are complex beings, because we are often logical and illogical. If everything were as it is in a book, we would have to leave the cell, come into the world, experience childhood, experience the stages of transition that accompany it, at some point reach the level of being a mature individual who is in full swing a long time, and then experience the meno or andropause and reach the last stage of our life as an adult, but expired in the weakest possible way, where the only thing waiting for us is to say goodbye to this world. It would be easy if it were not for the fact that we are human beings and what distinguishes us from the world are, at least in my opinion, at least three factors, the awareness of our greatness, intelligence and... the awareness of our smallness . It seems to me that most of us are only aware of the first two factors for most, and sometimes for the rest of our lives. Normally most of us don't feel this third factor, because the world is rushing forward, has no intention of waiting for us, so we move on with the world, only to the end. I am like that myself, I mean, now I have been such a person. I begin to feel that I am trapped in the awareness of how small I am in the face of this world, that I am only a dust in this great world. Our surroundings began to overwhelm me. And me?

I guess I just started to realize that I can't change the world. The existing laws of physics, chemistry, biology will always be above us, we can interfere in a part of everything, we can understand the essence of quantum physics, use chemical reactions, in some cases cheat biology for our needs, and what we have of that, if they are only tools that we can use?

They are just tools, we are only beings who can use them, but we can never create them. We are so big and so small at the same time. Being a child was easier, because only then were we closer to being animals that only care about their survival, and as adults, we became people who are great because they can use the tools created by "Something" above us. In the end we are little anyway. I never would have realized this like when I woke up with a pacifier in my mouth.

The moment I discovered it in my mouth it resulted in the immediate launch of the artificial suction tool into a coal furnace. I cried, my mental state did not allow me to do anything else. I was kneeling in a corner and something in me broke. That was the first time, in which, according to myself, I decided it was time to get help from a psychologist. The feeling of my helplessness overcame my fear, the attempt to bear my little one turned out to be too great, and the current situation made it clear that I cannot do it alone. In the best case, a single consultation is enough, maybe I will get some medicine, my situation will not be exceptional, and in the worst case, I will be in therapy for a long time and I will realize all my fears so far.

You can't always wander in the dark, when a tooth hurts, you go to the dentist, when you have angina you go to the doctor, and when you have a mental problem ... well, here people usually prefer to be stray sheep, because of what people will say. A proteus? A pervert? A pedophile? A criminal? An outcast? Failure? You can list forever, and the problem will not go away, it will only get worse.

Renatka had a day off, she stayed at home with Lucrecia. Officially, I went out to play pool with friends I hadn't seen in a long time, but in the meantime I was standing in front of the building with the inscription "Psychologist" on the door. After a time, during which the same fears attacked me, I decided it was time to grab and push forward. The world will not wait for me, the sense of balance in my life will not return to itself. It is time to discover the source of this problem. As I crossed the threshold, I felt as if a bright light was trying to dazzle me, a poor boy in blue pyjamas just looking for help. It's time to squeeze the teddy bear tighter, look at it with a loving eye and say, "Come on, buddy, we have another path to discover."

The boy sat bravely in a comfortable chair waiting for the next course of events, and the little teddy bear supported him in each of his movements. He made sure the boy knew he had a support in him, even if the world rushes forward and leaves him behind, he is not at least alone, on occasion, realizing that each of us has a right to fear, to be broken. Everyone has the right to find support.

-Good Morning. With whom I have the pleasure?

The psychologist was sitting in a large cashmere chair, which was in the center of a large room, the light gently penetrated through the Roman blinds, a graphite sofa by the wall was waiting for another patient, and the painting that was above it, it showed a puzzle that was going to fold in a brain, it attracted attention. For a moment I forgot that I had just been greeted and that I was asked a question. The uninjured psychologist asked again.

-Oh yes, good morning, sorry for the distraction. Sebi, I mean, uh, Sebastian.

The psychologist smiled broadly, gestured toward the graphite sofa with an inviting gesture.

-Don't be ashamed and sit down. If it's more comfortable for you, even lie down.

The poor boy in the blue pyjamas looked uncertainly towards the sofa, the first fear passed a while ago, but this did not mean that the following moments of doubt could not attack. He squeezed the teddy bear's hand tightly and walked unsteadily to the sofa. He hugged the teddy bear to his stomach and then lowered his head enough to rub his chin against the teddy bear's head.

The psychologist realized her client's uncertainty, so she began to calm him down.

-Calm down, neither I nor this sofa bites. Relax. Nothing and nobody is threatening you here. Everyone is insecure in the first conversation, but we will break the first ice.

The boy nodded, looked up, so that he could look into the smiling psychologist's eyes. The doctor's smile helped calm his recurring nerves a little, he felt his back muscles relax slowly.

-Before we start, it is very important for me to know if you were forced to come here, or if it was your own decision.

-I decided to do it myself.

The boy replied uncertainly. "Everything will be fine, this woman is nice." The teddy bear's voice rumbled in the boy's head.

-I have to tell you that it is admirable, not everyone has the courage to decide for themselves, but you cannot be surprised, after all, we are only people.

"Only and even" thought the boy.

-So, to get to the point of our meeting, it's time for me to ask you that question. What specifically brings you to me?

The boy turned the teddy bear face to face, looked into his dark eyes and asked, "Can we tell her that? What if she doesn’t understand? It's so ... embarrassing. We should keep this situation a secret!" The bear just twisted his head and said, "Everyone's afraid of something, Sebi, but that's no reason to hide our whole lives from the world. You only hurt yourself by masking yourself. Yes, people often can't understand the thoughts and behaviours of others, but there is always at least one person who can understand you. " The boy was not 100% convinced, but decided to trust his words, he said that he had to take a risk this time.

-I have been afraid of myself for a long time. I feel that the latest situations overwhelm me. I have a daughter whom I sincerely love, but it hurts me to be around her. The point is that I fight with myself in my head because when I see my baby's toys, something moves me to play too, when she wore diapers, I also wanted to get into them, when she sucks on the pacifier, I feel jealous that I don't suck so, sometimes I think about making a porridge like the ones babies eat, and even boiling the semolina and eating it through a bottle. I feel like I'm crazy, I don't know what to do. I have searched the Internet for answers, but have only found rejection and threats. They called me a pedophile or an outcast from society, so I deleted my messages. I finally stopped trying to find out something about what was happening to me. It makes me feel like a pervert.

Before my confession, the psychologist took out a notebook and a pen, after I finished answering, she still wrote something on a piece of paper. After a while she finished writing.

-Did you stumble upon the concept of ABDL?

-Not.

-Adult baby diaper lover, to be more precise, an adult diaper lover in free translation. It is about more than an adult person who likes to be in a diaper, mainly it is age play, that is, the role of children or adults. When we talk about ABDL, it is precisely the situations you describe, the desire to behave like a child, or even to fully identify with it, or to have its appearance. There is also the opposite relationship, that is, putting yourself in the role of guardian of such an adult child. From your description, however, it is easy to deduce that  it’s the first case.

"Teddy bear, what's up?" the shaky boy asked. "Don't be afraid, Sebastian. You are discovering the truth of what is happening to you."

-How to treat it?

The psychologist looked at me wondering what to say.

-You know, it depends on what exactly you want to achieve. We are talking about this for the first time between us, and it is not possible to decide what we will do. I'm doing an alleged interview with you to find out together what your problem is. Now of course you're talking about it as a problem, but you may find that you really need acceptance. We need at least one or two more interviews to know everything that concerns you. Once we find out, we can make an action plan together. Some of my patients, after realizing what their main problem is, decided on therapy to help them understand themselves. The human psyche is a very delicate and confusing thing. We still have a lot of time, I think we should talk more.

The other part of the interview was about questions that were supposed to rule out suspicions of pedophile perversions, no one can tell how relieved I was when, after answering the last question, I was informed that I was not threatening my own daughter. The most important thing for me now was to understand myself. At first I thought I had to fight what was on my mind, but after talking to the psychologist I'm not so sure. Once again, my words are confirmed, people are complicated.

My well-being is also better because my fears of not being understood or not receiving help have dissipated. The psychologist has shown great acceptance of me as a man, not as the greatest evil in the world. This is what I have needed for a long time. You might as well ask why I didn't want to trust Renata with all this, but it's easy to say when a problem doesn't concern you. It is precisely the fear that the person you love the most may not bear you, paralyzes your interior, denying any desire to act. I think it will be a long time before all this is organized in any way, for the moment the objective is clear -ME. What will come of this? I can't predict it. I just hope that everything clears up and I regain my sense of inner balance. Yes, we all need support, so we can't be afraid to ask for it. If we can, we must act.

The next visit and with it the next steps to establish an assistance plan. But what is this help supposed to be? Leaving the family for an unknown period of time to undergo a magical transformation? Electric therapy, with electrodes attached to my body? Talk for hours and get to know yourself, and then kill the "me inside"? What can therapy be in a case like this? Perhaps acceptance and understanding ... No, it’s total absurdity! It is not normal, it is not acceptable. And again I feel cursed by everything and everyone. It is difficult to know if it is better or worse after seeing a psychologist. Knowing yourself is probably the worst thing that has happened to me so far. I want to sleep.

 

3. Stain

You hate me? - A voice sounded in the dark. I thought I fell asleep, so why am I hearing someone else's voice? Although, it sounded strangely familiar to me anyway. Only where I heard it, huh, I can't remember it. - You hate me? - That question again, that voice again. When will it end? - You forgot it?

A school built even in the last days of communism, it didn't look impressive on the outside, a grey building, from the foundations to about a meter painted in the colour of dark brick, later only grey and cavities, but they were slowly preparing scaffolding for insulation. The building was supposed to eventually take on colours. Walking along the windows on the side of the shutter, you could reach a vast recreation yard, which had already been built some fifteen years after the fall of the Polish People's Republic. Swings, a cobweb, lots of sand, a mini obstacle course, chained tires, a merry-go-round, a cycling track and two small basketball courts. The children ran, laughed, played, benefited from the blessings given to them, but not all. Always among the group of children who play among themselves, you could find "outcasts" with whom no one played or spoke. Why? How many theories, how many opinions, so many comments and even more rumours. It is impossible to get to the truth, because human nature, in the vast majority of cases, only deals with its own good, which is the most positive reaction, because only thanks to it we have survived as a species to this day, But sometimes it can be disastrous for individuals who do not have, or have a delayed ability to adapt to, society or the environment. I have always praised human nature, and criticized adults who did not understand that not all children are equal. We live under the constant pressure of other people's social and private expectations of us. Many people have been able to break this, but they also have their psychological defences. One of those mechanisms is hatred of people who hate you. Simple, but effective for mental health.

This photo definitely reminds me of something. Yes, I hate the world, I forgot this feeling, I did not even remember my late childhood. Everything is blurred. The school, the people, the nature and ... the stain, the black void that seemed to be sitting on a bench alone. A moment ago, an image of children appeared in my eyes, but now I only saw blurred spots circulating around me, using equally blurred objects. I looked again at the dark defect. So I asked myself "Maybe it's me? Maybe it's someone else?" It doesn't matter much now, and from that perspective, I didn't even have it. The emptiness in my memory doesn't help me determine if this black emptiness is me. .

Do you hate me so much that you've erased all the memories we share? Who I am? Who are you? Who are we?

Suddenly something grabbed my hand, I felt the skin of another man, although I only saw a dark stain in front of me. One of his dots was in my hand and the other was holding a teddy bear, which was like a perfect copy of the one I saw in the visions. It is possible that this teddy bear was not a fake, but the original. I wanted to ask this "anomaly" what it is, but then someone attacked her with a wooden sword in the back. I could no longer feel the touch of the imaginary hand, the stain fell to the ground, and the wooden sword moved from one blurred figure to the next, and again and again struck the back of the dark void. But why do I identify the places where this stain was hit with the parts of the human body? Why am I trying to see another man in it? After all, from the beginning, this stain was just a blur. An insignificant part of a bigger picture. And yet there was a thought in my head that I was the one who really lost the big picture.

Do you want to keep avoiding me? - Asked the stain, tugging on my sleeve.

 I tore the fabric of my sweatshirt out of the "hand" of "it."

-You? You mean who? - I answered by asking another question.

-Yourself. - She replied briefly.

I started scratching my head in surprise, because I don't remember looking at all like something blurry and dark.

-If you remembered me somehow, it would be fine, but I see a stain that has no expression.

-It's because you didn't want to remind yourself. Each of us struggles and fight with the others. Even the memory you produced, which you are, does. Maybe sometimes it would be worth it to sit down, stop for a while, understand ...

I interrupted the stain in his speech.

-Not prancing, not acting like a child and not ruining someone's life, because I understand that it is because of you that the latest situations are happening to me. - I said in anger.

-I'm "you", blaming me doesn't make sense. Maybe if you hadn't felt sorry for yourself the whole time you've been in unusual situations, you could have limited or stopped some things.

-It is difficult to control something when you lose the film. - I screamed in anger.

This conversation bothered me so much that I felt my face was turning red.

-Why does it bother you so much to talk with your memories? It is true that few people are capable of analysing themselves and need help from psychologists and therapists. However, it is not the therapist / psychologist who pulls you out of the abyss, but yourself.

-Finish.

I didn't want to talk to that thing that was pretending to be me, but even so, I felt that this production of "something" can have a grain of truth. The dark stain went silent after hearing my demand, all she did was stand in front of me and look me in the eye, as if waiting for me to let her speak. Suddenly, sadness hugged my heart, trying to make me understand that I should let the stain speak.

-Sorry. Do you want to tell me something else? - I asked for.

-In truth, I have nothing more to say. All up to you. My advice to you is to listen to what you have missed in your life, to accept it and what follows ... or to forget, or to let what is happening continue to exist, or to forget until Lucy grows up and then discover yourself and seek acceptance. Make up your mind.

 

4. Decision

Yes, after all, we are the master in our head. It could be argued because of that others give up on them by no making any decision, but that is where they have already made their own decisions. Everything that surrounds us is the result of the actions we have taken and it cannot be said that we do not want to influence anything, or we renounce it. Whatever we have touched, we had to take steps to do so.

However, I cannot remember at what point in my life I isolated myself from my childhood, but it affected my current coexistence. Frankly, most of the time I tried to separate the imaginary and child world from reality and adulthood. I am not entirely comfortable with the fact that this has happened to me, but I decided to go through therapy with the help of a psychologist to push past experiences that have disturbed my daily life, but I do not exclude the possibility that I will accept these events . Whether you like it or not, it's a part of me too, and the fight against yourself can only end worse.

I told Renata everything and then I understood even more how wonderful the companion of my life with whom I have a daughter is. She simply said that she would accept every decision I make and assured me of her support.

Since then, I have not experienced more seizures that have led to memory loss like before. I think it is thanks to the partial acceptance of what has happened to me so far. Caring for Lucrecia did not awaken in me either, such strong tendencies to child behaviour already.

What will happen next? Time will tell, and for the moment, I am working on myself with the help of my loved ones and a psychologist.