What Was Lindsay Lohan Diagnosed With?

How quickly everything ended by just a single day, I was just like any other girl in the world- laughing and hanging out with friends, taking endless selfies, having crushes on bad boys and nerds included. I never thought or cared about how I look. It was just mine. Normal and Easy. But everything changed in one single moment- a moment filled with fire, screaming metal, and a blur of terror that rewrote my life. I survived. Everybody says I'm lucky but this, this doesn't feel like survival it feels like a punishment, a curse. A curse that am willing to carry all my life. The accident left me with permanent facial disfigurement, and ever since, I've been stuck behind a mask I never asked to wear. My face is the first thing anyone sees, and sometimes, it feels like the only thing they see. I avoid mirrors now. I no longer go out; I can't risk being stared at. Friends faded. Invitations stopped. Of course they would stop, who would want to invite the hideous me. I would scare everyone, worse, ruin their appetite. They would move away from their tables. What did I expect? Life moved on for everyone but me. My mom is the only person in my life right now, shes' become my anchor. Even with her love, it's still hard to silence the voices in my head, the ones saying I'm hideous, broken, unworthy. I miss my old smile. I still haven't done anything in life. And this isn't about my appearance it's about my self- esteem, my confidence, my ability to feel like I belong anywhere. This is a constant battle with the mirror, with the world, and with yourself. And most days, I'm trying to find the strength to look up to.

As the sole heiress of the illustrious Chapman family, I am born with severe sensory hypersensitivity, causing overwhelming episodes. Raised like a princess by my three fiercely protective older brothers—Adam, Beau, Claude—every detail of my life is tailored to perfection. Even the temperature of my drinking water has to be measured to the decimal. Everything changes when a new intern, Sunny Sinclair, joins Chapman Group. She calls herself Sunny the Sunshine, yet all she does is lower her head and wipe her tears whenever trouble arises. Somehow, she bewitches all three of the Chapman brothers. Before long, they start calling me difficult and spoiled, praising her instead for being humble, sensible, and easy to please. Then comes my birthday party. Sunny arrives wearing my haute couture gown and breaks the vintage pearl bracelet my late mother has left me as an heirloom. With reddened eyes, she hides behind Adam Chapman, my eldest brother, and whispers, "I didn't mean to. I just wanted to touch it." My second brother, Beau Chapman, looks at me with icy contempt and scolds me for being spoiled. My third brother, Claude Chapman, gently wipes away Sunny's tears, comforting her. I stand there in silence for three seconds. Then, my hypersensitive attack strikes. Clutching my chest, I break down on the spot, sobbing until my whole body convulses before collapsing to the floor. The three brothers who have been condemning me earlier turn deathly pale. They drop to their knees in panic, begging me to breathe. Too bad. When someone with a rare condition like mine is pushed past the limit, the consequences can be life-threatening.

In my fifth year of marriage to Dominic, I'd become the woman all of Chicago knew as the crazy one — the mental case. Jealousy gnawed at me constantly, and my temper frayed easily, my emotions sharp and unsteady, unravelling more with each passing day. So it only made sense when he slid a divorce agreement across the table. "Vivian's pregnant. A Harrington heir can't be born illegitimate, and Mrs. Harrington can't be a lunatic." "Once she's had the baby, I’ll marry you again, and you'll still be Mrs. Harrington." I was forced to sign my name, then locked away in a private sanatorium a hundred miles from the city. The first year, I waited with desperate hope for him to come take me home. Instead, he handed me an ultrasound report. "Twins — a boy and a girl. Vivian's pregnant again. Just wait a little longer." The second year, he had electric fencing installed around the sanatorium grounds. "Harrington Corp is going public. We can't afford any slip-ups right now." By the fifth year, he simply called to tell me to wait one more year. He must have expected me to scream and lose control the way I always did. But this time, I just nodded calmly. "Alright. However long it takes." After all. I didn't have much time left anyway.

Sometimes one needs someone who is just as damaged to get better. °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° A perfect life, family and friends. After finishing high school with flying colours Elicia Rae and her best friend Jeremy Martin enjoy their four months before heading to UCLA where they planned on following their parents' footsteps and partaking in medicine. Tragic events unfold leaving Elicia shattered, nothing is perfect, was the one thing she got to understand. A few visits to the psychiatrist and uncountable visits to a certain woman named Lydia, a therapist. Results in Elicia taking a gap year. She meets Treadway, a victim of abuse and becomes his light at the end of the tunnel. When a depression patient meets a victim of domestic abuse.

As a billionaire's daughter, I changed school a lot, for secrecy's sake. I never had the chance to socialize. I had guidelines on how to live my life -- rules made by my dad. I had my own trauma, though no one cared. At seventeen, I had to change -- I guess that's part of growing up. I fell in love. I wish I didn't. Breaking boundaries really is dangerous, I didn't acknowledge that. He had to die cause of my disobedience. Being a public figure sometimes can be a curse. It was for me. Years later, when I thought I'd forgotten him, I met someone else, just like my Damien. I believed it was Damein. Who knows? I had to keep him safe. I'll definitely break boundaries but this time, as a wounded dog who is back for a big fight. I'll fight for my freedom. No matter what it takes.

In the fifth year of being locked up in a psychiatric hospital, my husband, Cole Foster, finally agrees to discharge me. But when the ward door is opened, I see multiple cameras aiming at me. "Congratulations, Ms. Lawson. The five-year reality show in the psychiatric hospital has officially come to an end!" R-Reality show? I look thunderstruck by the news. At that moment, Cole, who's supposed to sweep me into a hug, shows up. He says calmly, "Joanna, this is a reality show that Natalie has planned. You're just a trial subject whom I've chosen to help her record this show." 300 million people have participated in the voting session. Just like that, Natalie Jackman becomes the most popular director in the reality show world. Meanwhile, I've gotten electrocuted to the point I keep shuddering violently. It's a norm for me to drool subconsciously and go into lapses of haziness from time to time. Cole personally unlocks the handcuffs that have bound me for the past five years. "Now that the show is over, you may go home."