In 1999 I suffered a mental health crisis and admitted myself into the hospital where I live, in which I was given a mental health diagnosis. I didn’t want to receive medication at the time, but unwillingly accepted it. I was in the hospital for about two months, when I asked my doctor if I could go home, and he said yes, even though he thought it would have been better if I stayed longer. I was glad to be home though, but at 25, it took some adjusting to feel truly at home. One of the problems I was having at home was it was hard for me to eat the food in the house. I was having a psychosis where I felt the food wasn’t mine, and I literally had to go out to eat, or buy bread from the supermarket and take it home to eat it. Eventually this wore off, but I don’t remember how long. I was now on ODSP and had a check come to me every month in order to have financial support. I would occasionally have a crisis, and ask my mom to drive me to the hospital, but eventually the crisis would