Doctors and psychiatrists would opt to institutionalize the greatest creative minds of our time, if those creative people didn't have any manner of backing to support their ideas and secure the productions born from their visions. At first, anyone with any manner of disarray about themself is instantly pegged out as being "crazy, insane," etc, on until someone opts to medicate the individual and have them spend the rest of their days in chemical dependency, living like a 'zombie' from being dopped up on anti-depressants or anti-psychotic medication.

It's a spit in the face of a person's individuality, as if there weren't a single person within any given society that experiences the kind of personal dilemma you've conveyed here in poetry. I laughed inside when, back in 2005, I read something on a medical pamphlet saying that one particular symptom of depression is the simplicity of "not enjoying what you used to enjoy." It's valid, but the subject of depression is treated in such a way that in the end, the individual suffering from it is referenced as being nothing more than a compilation of the workings of their bodily systems, as if there were nothing else to living life itself. I'm not saying that you shouldn't trust physicians. I'm saying that sometimes, what they get paid to tell you during a therapy session or doctor's visit can be, to substitute for a vulgar word, bullocks.

I've had this same problem before, and it happened to me during the worst possible time of my life. I lived in a potentially life-threatening situation, and what I heard in the back of my mind was usually like a bunch of akward suggestions alluding to frightening things. Of course several times it was just me listening to the people speaking on a nearby television, and I would take what I heard out of context (because I was already bewildered by so many other thoughts already). But there were times where I tried to enjoy a little peace and quiet (at work, because my home life was like living in a neverending "Silent Hill"-esque nightmare, if you've ever heard of that game...), and either I was just thinking of disturbing things, or had actually heard something out of the ordinary. Whatever the case, I wasn't in good health nor a good living situation. But all of that changed with time, and suprisingly, I'm alive to even tell about it...

I hope you find a way to get your condition resolved.

Sometimes, the greatest challenge is thinking ahead of the very problems that surround you during the negative times of your life. I know that sounds crazy, but it's the way I survived four and a half years living in a mostly dilapidated apartment with the rest of my family (2004 - 2008).

Wow, the fact that you took the time to comment all that, I appreciate it. Thank you. I'm sure I will.
(Oh and yes I know that game)