3) I am a writer. improved version 

I am a writer

An important event took part in my life five years ago when I was enjoying an emotional perfect balance. Taking into account the state of my personal life, my relationship with my boyfriend was perfect and everything was going perfectly. So that I considered myself very lucky but I was afraid of something wrong would happen to disturb my quiet life.  So that my fears became true.

In the autumn of 2010 my life changed abruptly in a negative way.  Due to my unusual perfect life I experienced an emotional insecurity that something wrong could happen. I felt something wrong inside me as I would lose the control and do something very bad. Intrusive thoughts came to my mind. They were unwelcome ideas, memories and traumatic flashbacks that repeatedly found their way into my mind. This included uncomfortable and disturbing thoughts about losing control, fearing pain, fearing death or hurting other people.  A deep sensation of sadness seized me. However, I did not know the reason of my depression. I experienced extreme anxiety but also irrational fears were in my mind every day. I was afraid of contracting the virus of hiv. Bye casual contact. For that reason my life became a hell and I was not capable of living a normal life anymore. Three months after having the irrational fears I decided to visit a psychologist looking for answer to my problem. Sadly she diagnosed me with obsessive-compulsive disorder (ocd), which is due to the lack of serotonin in the brain. OCD is typically characterized by obsessive ideas and fears that become overwhelming. Since I had an important lack of serotonin in my brain I was not capable of discriminating the real risk situation from the non-risk situations.

Nevertheless, I decided to fight against the devil inside my mind who always told me “be careful with that chair, it could have blood and you could contract hiv and die”, “be careful with that person, do not touch him/her. You could touch her/his wound and contract hiv and die”.  Every day was a challenge to “avoid” hiv in the train or the bus. My brain is hard-wired into noticing and holding on to negative thoughts. Keeping me “save” implicated buying one bottle of alcohol to wash my hands, checking my hands and face to find any stain of blood. The checking implicated multiple times, sometimes hundreds of times, and for hours on end, resulting in myself being late for work. People were my enemies if they touched me or cough near me. The list of the places or things that I avoided could be infinite. However I had the strength to find a cure to my disorder. Not only had I spent five years on cognitive-behavioral therapy I also went to a psychiatric who put me on sertraline. Apart from the medical help my family and boyfriend supported me a lot.

Even though my life was hard, I found the strength to tell my story. I published a book about my disorder which helped people around the world with the same problem. By the time my book was best-seller I had to travel around the world attending to seminaries. Nowadays I am married and I have a beautiful son. I am a writer and a famous journalist. My disorder is just a bad memory because I am cured.