I sit down on the chair in front of the therapist. I hate it here. I don’t want to be here. I miss my mirror. My hallucinations. They want them to stop. To go away. As the therapist speaks, I don’t listen. I only listen to myself. I think. I think of what people say to me. They call me mental, crazy, psycho. I was just trying to have fun.

“Are you listening?” the doctor asked. I looked at her, f...