Some days after I had "run away", it was decided I should stay in Kortenberg, wich is a psychiatric hospital - I don't even remember who's idea it was. Anyways, my parents seemed to want to play safe - and there was a psychiatrist who thought it be a good idea. I dont remember if anyone asked my opinion, but I don't remember protesting either ! Finally my life was changing ! Exciting things were happening - everything was "moving" again.
This moring I woke up, having had a dream about me being in Zafaraya - the village in the complete south of Spain where we would go on holliday every year - and I was walking in the streets with my parents. All i remember is that I have some object in my hand - like a little crow and it's got to do with my parents, with their wedding or something. Suddenly I become so angry I trow this object in a near window, smashing the window and running away from my parents - out of fear for what I have done. I run to the top of the village. Then there is some flying around like a chicken - very strange, to "travel faster", to make a better escape, I fly over the streets in a direct line. I don't behave like a chicken, but the position of my arms is like when humans imitate chicken wings, actually very uneffective to really fly - but I apparantly do fly.
Then I fell asleep again (several times, sleeping a total of eight or more hours) and I wake up with a memory about Kortenberg. It was very strange, because as I remembered the "memory-sensation-picture-experience" I wanted to hide from it. I was caught by surprise, it seems. I started doing forgiveness immediately, but I knew this was a "very big point", so I oncluded I would have to fucking write about it.
The memory: W. and V. (two nurses) are asking me if I am really "depressed". I have been in Kortenberg now fo several months - people have been able to obsever me in many ways. Now they ask me this question, in front of the other members of my group - people of my age. I feel "attacked" because - off course - I know that I am many things, but "depressed" is certainly not one of them. Nontheless - I speak and act as if I am. Only me knows this, but I shouldn't be in this place - meaning: I am actually quite fine. I know this for certain as I observe other people, listen to their stories, etc. I was one of the few - maybe the only one - who wasn't on any medication-drug. I actually pretend to be depressed, so that I wouldn't be send home - and would be forced to take on my old life ! I was scared - very, very scared to go and live with my father again, to confront him. The hospital was my "shelter", there I was safe. I also enjoyed the attention that was given to me. People were noticing me again! It was the complete opposite of home. Here people seemed to 'care' and 'listen' to me. So I stayed a full 9 MONTHS in this psychiatric institution - doing nothing but hiding from the world, ignoring reality at full speed. Most of the time I wouldn't even think about the future, about me being "released". It became unimaginable for me that I would ever go back to "the normal world" where I "belonged". Most of the time I really believed I would never go back, I would find a way to never have to take on my life again - even if it meant lying to everyone. I wasn't concerned about my family or friends though - I never felt any guilt, because i knew they were a sham. I had completely said "goodbye" to my old life, there was no point in taking it back on.
I have always ignored this blatant truth to myself, until this very morning, when I woke up. I always was kind of aware of it - off course - but I have always been bullshitting myself into believing I was actually maybe depressed after all (sometimes?). No, I wasn't !!