The Intern Framed Me But I Was Recording In 4K

Summary

When I was seven years old, the neighbor’s kid accused me of stealing a candy bar. It was a lie, but the way the adults looked at me—like I was already a criminal—broke something inside me. That was the day I was diagnosed, by my own internal logic, with a severe case of persecution mania.

When colleagues posted brunch photos on Instagram, I didn't just like them. I created five different burner accounts to monitor their stories, convinced they were badmouthing me in the background.