I had been way too down for some days… Perhaps weeks now.

I was home alone when I decided to call a suicide prevention public number of my country someone had taken their time to share on Twitter.

First thing I say is my name is Daniel. She inmediately replies there is no need for me to say my name. That everything is confidential and anonymous.

As far as that can be great, I stand there is a freaking social need to speak about this.

We spoke for a 20ish minutes.

Aside from family issues I have no right to speak about publickly, we spoke, among other things,

About me feeling not realised as an artist, about the 9 years I have been now struggling with mental health (hard drug here; psiquiatry, antipsychotics).

About how I had spent 5 years with a psiquiatrist so bad to me I almost feel she attempted to kill me.

About how I spent eight months in a psiquiatric ward, which was only good for me to lose interest in living (…).

About how it confronted me with my parents…

We finally spoke about loneliness, about how I feel this sick world is lonely in itself.

She agreed with me, and I can tell by the tone in her voice she wasn’t lying.

We also spoke about my freaking 1** IQ points, about how either I wasn’t ready for this world or the other way around.

That woman has very likely saved my life.

Bless her.