At the time when I had just met her, Laura, my girlfriend, seemed so normal, so mentally balanced, that it did not arouse any suspicion in me. We had fallen in love with each other. I insisted that she move into my house, and she accepted without objection. We lived together, under the same roof, for two years together.
In the first year of living together, Laura, then twenty-five years old, seemed to be an almost perfect woman. Clever, innocent, submissive and relatively silent. These are, from my point of view, the standards of feminine perfection and I think they do not contradict each other. I mention that my girlfriend was also a very beautiful woman, with the face of an angel and a model body. Even if someone like her isn't smart, what can you blame a beautiful woman who is silent?
In her second year of cohabitation, Laura was neither silent, submissive, nor smart, nor balanced. Her illness - a serious mental illness - returned in force, after she had survived latently, improved because Laura had undergone a specialized treatment for ... bedlam.
I did not know that Laura was psychotic and that she had been admitted to a neuropsychiatric clinic before meeting her. After meeting me, she discontinued - despite medical prescriptions - treatment with psychotropic and antidepressant drugs.
He also stopped medical check-ups, which he should have done regularly. She didn't tell me about these things, so I didn't know about her problems.
I was happy to find my soul mate, I thought, and I intended to marry the beautiful Laura. When I found out from medical sources that my girlfriend was mentally ill, I was shocked.
Do you know how I found out? I was on the street with Laura and we met one of the doctors who had treated her in the hospital. When he saw us, the man stopped us and asked my partner why she did not go to the consultation.
"What kind of consultation?" I was surprised.
"Specialized medical control. Your companion is seriously ill."
I asked the guy:
"Who are you? Where do you work?"
"I'm the doctor ... X, from the neuropsychiatry clinic in Abu Dhabi ... X."
I will not give the name of the doctor and the clinic here. I'm just telling you that the doctor handed me his business card and left in a hurry, after seeing what a horrible look Laura had made. After the episode with the doctor, Laura only spoke vaguely and ambiguously about her problems.
But I, without telling her anything, went and documented myself at the hospital. It was not easy for me to obtain information from some observation and treatment medical records that are confidential.
Also, after the episode with the doctor, Laura went crazy. Probably the encounter with one of her former healers triggered her madness again.
It seems that psychopathy’s never healed, they only get better (where this is possible because there are also totally incurable people), after which they return, that is, they break out again.
Some don't care if their peers are crazy. I recently read in a newspaper that representatives of a parliamentary party used neuropsychiatric patients in the election campaign. Thirty such patients were taken, on a Sunday, to an electoral action in a locality whose name escapes me. They were walked with party scarves and served - the peak of unconsciousness! - with alcoholic beverages. I cannot believe it!
I was deeply disturbed to find that Laura was a psychopath. Maybe I wouldn't have been convinced by the brief information I got at the hospital, but the woman I wanted to take as my wife began to behave more and more strangely, hallucinating ... I couldn't get along with her anymore, we had a dialogue of the deaf. In addition, he had moments when - without motivation in my opinion - he became hostile to me. For example, when we suggested that we visit one of our friends, she shouted:
"We can't visit!" It's something that can't be done! We are not allowed to visit!"
"Of course, it's something that can't be done!" I joked.
"It's a great impudence to visit ... And Laura hates impudence!" So, we better not go! she concluded, in the same tone.
I thought she certainly didn't want us to deviate from the purpose of that evening, which was to make love, so I smiled at her, but she didn't return my smile. She agreed to make love, but she turned out to be so ... creative (in bed) that it terrified me. I was not prepared for such changes.
Another time, she climbed the garden wall and intentionally let herself fall - she broke a hand. When I forcibly took her to a hospital, Laura said to the doctor:
"I would have liked to stay there, at the base of the wall ... To forget about myself ... And to get out of my mind the clones or the donation ... I will wake up crying in the streets, destroying everything in the way, because the unbearable feeling that my life has never been what it could have been ... I have the feeling of a nightmare turned into reality ... Sometimes, I want to be absent from this world and pick clovers, on a pasture from heaven ... Everything is a bluff, including football or medicine ...
The doctor looked at her slightly surprised, imagining, probably, that the woman with the fractured hand drank alcohol or took drugs.
But it wasn't about that. Laura, my ex-girlfriend, is literally crazy.
At the end of her second year of living together, she dyed her hair purple and green, half-and-half. And he shouted through the house about the Apocalypse and the blurred edge of a field. Her personal room (one of four I had) looked like a dark chapel, full of icons and candles. In contrast to this setting, Laura had hung some obscene toys from the sex shop on a wall.
The nightmare Laura had talked about in the orthopaedic office had also become my nightmare, so I had to get rid of her, ordering her to leave.
He protested without much conviction, then disappeared.
None of my acquaintances saw her after she left, I don't know anything about her anymore. Laura's parents claim that she was hospitalized at a clinic abroad, but they are not credible people, because they are not whole-minded either. It is possible that Laura's illness will be hereditary.
After all this madness, I returned to my native Dubai to find my long-dreamed peace and comfort. Now I am well with a beautiful girlfriend and fortunately deliciously normal ...
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