Disorders

Each of us carries within himself a small universe, hidden from the eyes of others and sealed by the dismal roughness of the walls of our trivial anxieties. Often such secrets become a mystery to their own creators, taking possession of their time, their mind, their body and their soul. Locked in darkened rooms, back alleys or in any other place where we can reveal to the mirror, or to someone as faithful as us, our desires and ills without fear of being judged. The traditional inquisitionist morality lurks through the cracks of old windows looking for us. Who judges us is the majority. What defines us is the mistake, the mistake of one towards the other. We must not believe in an inept or hypocritical way that we are safe from any diseases, vices, deficiencies or sordid desires and the slander that these add to us. We are not different. We're not special. It doesn't matter the wound that devours our epidermis, nor the unusual desires that pierce our viscera. There is no worse illness that afflicts us in bed or awkward that covers our faces than the tenacious denial of what snatches us. Anorexia, pyromania, dyspareunia, dissociative amnesia, transvestic fetishism, selective mutism, dependent and narcissistic personality disorder, trichophagia, hypochondria. Is that you? How well do you think you know yourself?