Diary of a Paranoid II
I am not sure when exactly it all started. I did not suffer from any kind of trauma or head injury that I know of, but I was not born like this. Maybe there was some small event that made me this way, but if there was one, I don't remember it. Camping in the middle of carnivore-infested woods was just one of the things that my crazy therapist decided might help me deal with some of my fears. But obviously it is not helping me one bit, only introducing me to new things I realize that I should be afraid of. I want to get better, but it seems like I'm on my own there.
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