you're a schizo-what now?!

Something else wasn't right.
Hearing voices.
I often talk to myself - planning what I'm going to say, practicing a presentation for work, or just in search of intelligent conversation sometimes!
But you're not talking to yourself, you're now telling me you're hearing 500 voices screaming at you because you made a deal with the devil and they have come for your half of the bargain.
And the shadow people are watching.

The psychiatrist is clearly out to get you when she diagnoses you as schizophrenic.
As were the next two that told you the same.

my life is a living hell, I'm now a full time carer, but rather then run, I feel obligated to stay because you're sick, this isn't you, you might get better.

You didn't get better. You said that taking pills and going to psychology appointments was too much effort, and you couldn't be bothered.

You got worse.
And controlling, and possessive, and I couldn't even have a poo without you following me to the bathroom, so I guess that when I demand one night out on my own, just one night, even just a few hours, you follow me and try to kill yourself.
here we are in the emergency department again, three strikes and you're out, sorry!

I tried, I tried really hard, I lost friends, I missed a promotion, I was nearly mentally unwell myself, because you couldn't see beyond yourself. I think it made it worse that one of your head doctors told me you'd admitted to faking parts of it just to manipulate me.

You had to go. Because somewhere there is me.

And I'm all for a bit of exhibitionism maybe, but sex with your autistic robotic boyfriend is awkward enough without 10 shadow people watching and 50 voices telling him he's crap!
To be fair to them, they had a point!

So game over, and no surprise, mummy is straight there to "rescue" her precious play thing.