Deep depression, extreme agoraphobia, moderate to heavy OCD, intense anxiety & panic attacks (mostly in regards to being outside), frequent paranoia (crazy delusions in my head that I can't seem to shake, which just get entrenched further due to my aforementioned OCD) and recently a few bouts of derealization (although, admittedly, that was just due to some THC that didn't agree with my messed up head). I think that covers everything. I've got a rap sheet a mile long when it comes to the various diagnoses & professional opinions from all the shrinks, counselors, psychologists & therapists my mom dragged me to in the year or two prior to me becoming a hermit. Hell, she even took me to see some "energy healers", as absurd as that sounds. Not only that, but she also went as far as to have these two ladies who claimed to be mediums come to our house to "cleanse the area of negative spirits", in the off chance these "spirits" were somehow "corrupting my soul's journey". They even had to give me an oiled massage at one point, for whatever damn reason. Had a fold-out table & everything too. They also purported to have "crossed over" the souls of both my biological grandmother on my mom's side (who killed herself) & a dead guy next door from many years ago (who also killed himself). It was the weirdest fucking shit man. Like an episode of Space Ghost Coast to Coast or Sealab 2021 playing out in real life. The bizarre rituals people come up with, and I'm supposed to be the crazy one. Seriously, what a joke. Unfortunately, it also cost a bloody arm and a leg to bring them here in the first place, which makes the whole thing even more ridiculous & tragic. And what do you know? The next day rolls around and it was just back to the same old, same old. Nothing ended up changing because of course it fucking wouldn't. They were just a couple of scummy, deluded con artists looking to swindle desperate & hopeless people by exploiting their nonsensical superstitions & general belief in bullshit hokum. To be honest though, even if they had some sort of money back guarantee, my mother wouldn't have taken it. Doing so would've demolished her world view at the time and taken away what very little remained of the hope that I'd somehow "get better". which is something she absolutely wasn't willing to do, no matter the cost of keeping the bubble intact. She came around, though. She's still pretty crazy with the new agey crap, but not nearly as much as she used to be (thank fucking goodness). Meanwhile, despite all the long past shenanigans, I've just gotten worse & worse, which is to be expected, I suppose. We both have.