I Think They Missed My Diagnosis

Hi, Reddit. I'm a longtime lurker. Usually, I wouldn't post, but I need your help. I think my psychiatrist messed up my diagnosis. Let me tell you a little bit about myself and then I will get to the story.

At seventeen, I was diagnosed with manic depression and anxiety, after having some suicidal thoughts. I sought help and was prescribed some medications to help me cope. They did help and a couple of years later, I weaned off of them.

Unfortunately, depression reared its ugly head again my senior year of college. I went back to my doctor and received the same prescription I had received before. I've been on my medications for about six months now. I really thought everything was alright. But now, I'm not so sure. I guess this is the part where I start my story.

Four months ago, I reconnected with an old friend. We met up at a bar for drinks. After having been in a somewhat abusive relationship. talking to Aiden was a breath of fresh air. The conversation flowed easily for hours, only punctuated by laughter. We parted with a hug. I remember asking if his girlfriend would get mad. He laughed and told me no, that she isn't the jealous type. I smiled into his chest; I hadn't realized how much I had missed him.

From that day forward, we were in almost constant contact. Texts, Skype, Snapchat, you name it. I guess our constant communication made his girlfriend nervous because she followed me on Instagram. Like I would have posted any of our adventures there; some of them would have made a porn star blush.

Honestly, I'm not even sure how sex happened, but it did. Again, he reassured me that he was allowed to do as he pleased. I felt a niggle of guilt, but not enough to make me stop. I'd be over at his apartment as soon as she left; I even had my own key. Like an addict, I couldn't get enough of him.

Yesterday is where it all went wrong. Aiden told me that he couldn't keep living a double life. He chose to end it with me.

That, of course, sent me down the rabbit hole of depression. I'm ashamed to admit it but I started drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. When I cam to from my blackout state, I found myself at Aiden's. I still don't know how I got here. I mean, yes, my car is in the driveway. But I don't remember driving it here. I don't know if I let myself in or if Aiden let me in. I don't know what I walked in on, but I guess I didn't like it very much. The vase of roses is smashed on the hardwood floor in the dining room. There's blood. So much blood. It's everywhere. The walls, the rug, and I think there's even some on the ceiling. The taper candles appear to have been used to drip hot wax all over their bound bodies; I sealed Aiden's eyes shut with wax. I wonder why I did that? Is it because I just wanted him to hear her suffer and not be able to see what I was doing to her? Whatever the case, both of their throats are slit and I guess we will find out who died first when the coroner does the autopsies.

It's a shame that I won't get my happily ever after with Aiden. Of course, neither will she and that brings me joy. Poor Aiden; he was such a good guy and so smart. I don't understand why he made such a bad decision.

By the way, Reddit, my fingers are the same size as hers. Do you want to know how I know? I'm wearing her engagement ring. It looks beautiful on me, even though I look like Carrie White at her prom.

I hear sirens; I'm guessing someone has called the cops. The sirens are getting closer, but before I go, I really need to know... Reddit, do you think I just had a mental break or should I be tested for schizophrenia? I'd really like to help my new psychiatrist as much I can and that first diagnosis being wrong isn't going to be much help to him.