For as long as I can remember I felt different from others. I was always bothered by something and the older I got the clearer it became that I was no longer coming along.
Not in terms of growth, not in terms of weight, but also not doing fun things. Nice things were not nice, I got sick from everything and started to withdraw more and more into my own world. A world of pain, fear and a lot of stress, because participating in normal life took a lot of effort. In the long run, so much effort that I no longer knew what to do.
From the age of 3-4 my parents also knew that something was wrong. They visited many doctors and therapists, went in and out of the hospital, but no one could tell what was the matter with me It was clear that my body was under tension. My parents thought about Lyme, but this was tested in the hospital when I was 8. It was not Lyme and so we were in the dark again. In the meantime I became insecure, because how could it be that I felt so bad when there was actually nothing wrong?