My Brain Killer

April 21, 2013 By 17 Comments

It has been proven that each time one goes into psychosis, it physically damages the brain. That’s what happened to me just last month. The posts I was putting up were indicators as to what was going on in my head.

It’s hard to write about because some of it I don’t remember or even remember correctly. The false beliefs I held while being insane are scary and more than embarrassing to think about. They dealt a lot with me thinking my family was out to harm me. My mom had taken control of my medications and was dealing with my doctor whom I also believed I couldn’t trust. She became Nurse Ratched to me and so I blew up, ran from her and as she cornered me in the backyard I flung my Gatorade at her and then she had to drag me into the house and force my medications. She had to give me Seroquel in the daytime because I wasn’t sleeping at all and when I start to feel sedated I freak out and think I am dying. It’s why I can’t take Seroquel. It worked for me a while ago, but now I am on Abilify which is working well for me now.

Eventually my family knew it was time to have me committed, I believe it was a day or so after the Gatorade incident. I was put in on the 22nd and released the 3rd of this month.

If this happens again, it can be permanent and I am highly fearful of that. My first psychotic break was in 2008, my second in 2011 and now my last being 2013.

I have lost faith and trust in myself with this illness and I don’t know when I’ll ever gain that back.

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Forsaken {SMSdos}

March 5, 2013 By
Forsaken

Forsaken (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

FORSAKEN: } David Draiman

I’m over it
You see I’m falling in the vast abyss
Clouded by memories of the past
At last, I see

I hear it fading, I can’t speak it
Or else you will dig my grave
You feel ‘em finding, always whining
Take my hand now, be alive

You see I cannot be forsaken
Because I’m not the only one
We walk amongst you feeding, raping
Must we hide from everyone?

I’m over it
Why can’t we be together, embrace it?
Sleeping so long taking off the mask
At last I see

My fear is fading, I can’t speak it
Or else you will dig my grave
You feel them finding, always whining
Take my hand now, be alive

You see I cannot be forsaken
Because I’m not the only one
We walk amongst you feeding, raping
Must we hide from everyone?

You see I cannot be forsaken
Because I’m not the only one
We walk amongst you feeding, raping
Must we hide from everyone?
Everyone, everyone…

 

THE SLEEPER } Edgar Allan Poe // We are never alone.

At midnight, in the month of June,
I stand beneath the mystic moon.
An opiate vapor, dewy, dim,
Exhales from out her golden rim,
And, softly dripping, drop by drop,
Upon the quiet mountain top,
Steals drowsily and musically
Into the universal valley.
The rosemary nods upon the grave;
The lily lolls upon the wave;
Wrapping the fog about its breast,
The ruin molders into rest;
Looking like Lethe, see! the lake
A conscious slumber seems to take,
And would not, for the world, awake.
All Beauty sleeps!- and lo! where lies
Irene, with her Destinies!

O, lady bright! can it be right-
This window open to the night?
The wanton airs, from the tree-top,
Laughingly through the lattice drop-
The bodiless airs, a wizard rout,
Flit through thy chamber in and out,
And wave the curtain canopy
So fitfully- so fearfully-
Above the closed and fringed lid
‘Neath which thy slumb’ring soul lies hid,
That, o’er the floor and down the wall,
Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall!
Oh, lady dear, hast thou no fear?
Why and what art thou dreaming here?
Sure thou art come O’er far-off seas,
A wonder to these garden trees!
Strange is thy pallor! strange thy dress,
Strange, above all, thy length of tress,
And this all solemn silentness!

The lady sleeps! Oh, may her sleep,
Which is enduring, so be deep!
Heaven have her in its sacred keep!
This chamber changed for one more holy,
This bed for one more melancholy,
I pray to God that she may lie
For ever with unopened eye,
While the pale sheeted ghosts go by!

My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep
As it is lasting, so be deep!
Soft may the worms about her creep!
Far in the forest, dim and old,
For her may some tall vault unfold-
Some vault that oft has flung its black
And winged panels fluttering back,
Triumphant, o’er the crested palls,
Of her grand family funerals-

Some sepulchre, remote, alone,
Against whose portal she hath thrown,
In childhood, many an idle stone-
Some tomb from out whose sounding door
She ne’er shall force an echo more,
Thrilling to think, poor child of sin!
It was the dead who groaned within.

PUBLISHED 1831

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Am I Crazy?

February 8, 2013 By

This is going to sound crazy, but it is what it is and if I leave it to my eyes only then I feel like it’s invalid and nuts and I’ll rip it up and then I won’t remember what went on so I can talk with my psychiatrist.

Last night this kid I used to work with (not really a kid, but I don’t know what to call him) is texting me about porn. I get a call from Alice and we are talking and out of context while I am talking about a Grey’s episode she says, “Not real. It’s all imaginary, fake.” I get a text from the kid while on the phone with her, but ignore it because I am on the phone (pet peeve: answer a text while on the phone with me). The text I read when I get off says, “I finally got off to a babysitter porn”. Why does that trigger me? I babysat Molly yesterday. He didn’t know that. I always feel I am being watched. I always think there are cameras. Why? Because I worked in retail most my fucking working life and it’s the nature of the beast. Wherever you are, there are cameras.

I am also a big believer in nanny-cams so as I am already feeling what some would call paranoia, that flipped me.

Yesterday while Molly was napping I was watching House and this patient had something and they were trying to rule out Leukemia as soon as the symptoms are listed it cuts to commercial so what is the first commercial, it’s about Leukemia and Lymphoma. One of my lymph glands is “swollen” so I need an expensive sonogram to rule out any bad stuff like 7 months from now. I had thyroid cancer, a millimeter size bit of cancer, but enough to stick in my mind. Also when I was breaking out in hives and in the hospital the blood work was taking forever and the doctor is all like “you have a high white count blah blah” I’m like, “Heard it before let me go.”

So I Bing Leukemia and one of the symptoms that pops is flu like feeling and bone weakness. My brain goes, “There’s your sign” and I’m all like “You can go fuck yourself brain”, but even though I knew jumping to a conclusion like that in that manner was crazy.

It also doesn’t help that yesterday I found a free movie on the cable box thing called “Forever Lulu” What is it about? A schizophrenic woman who escapes a facility to inform her first love of their child she gave up. Sometimes when I go psycho, I think I am pregnant. Why? Probably because of the aftershock of going through what I went through with my first love. What scared me? She’s schizophrenic and her mannerisms are so like mine when I go psycho it’s… wow. I have no words for it. Now I know how everyone saw my breakdowns.

As I saw the fear in heartbreak in their eyes, they saw a crazy, paranoid, nonsensical freak show. That is why I hate pity. That’s why I think people are looking at me weird when they look longer than just a glance. That’s why I think paranoid. Because I remember all their mannerisms as they watched me spin out of control. It was like looking through a window pain.

I need away. I need to fucking just leave like everyone else does when they need a change of scenery. I need to clear my head.

I got in the car with my mom one night and I smelled this horrific smell of like gasoline and she said she could only faintly smell it. And said nothing else but to roll my windows down. Her expression on her face was the same look I have seen when I am spiraling down.

I’ve been called a hypochondriac all my fucking life. So much to the point that I can’t ever know what’s wrong with me, I refuse to go to doctors with any concerns. No one ever thinks that what I say is valid.

Last night I tell my mom I am a textbook (NIMH) version schizophrenic. “I hate when you read too much.”

I hate that I have to go through this life. Everything that has been instilled in me comes from my mother and sister. If they don’t approve or don’t believe me, I am obviously a hypochondriac and I am wrong and nothing I feel or think about myself is right.

Why do I not know what’s real? Why can’t I trust myself to believe myself? Yeah, I believe in self-accountability, but sometimes you have to know when something isn’t your fault. You have to realize that crazy didn’t start with you.

I have to get ready to take a little trip. Sorry there is no great ending.

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Woosa! Soap Box on Abortion

February 7, 2013 By

Scrolling down my reader, I came across an image of a very clear ultrasound (not the ones you have to be a tech, doctor or parent to figure out) with abortion typed across it. So I clicked because I was curious. This person infers how they feel by the quotes they’ve chosen to feature, but aren’t going to come right out and say what they think or believe.

I am Pro-Choice. I think it’s the woman’s body, the woman’s life and if the guy isn’t so much a jerk and wants a say then they can discuss it, legally, morally or otherwise. Do I think it should be used as a form of birth control? No. But that’s as in-depth as I am going to be on it because this particular topic can be thrown in with politics, religion, censorship, and education. Both sides can be equally argued well enough that there is no definitive answer. I just feel the government or anyone else who was not involved in the making of this biological process has no say what the decision should be on a person’s life they have never lived.

I respect others who feel differently, I don’t understand them, but I can respect their stance. What I am tired of is how pro-lifers give all these facts about the biological process and what occurs when. Until you start collecting orphans or taking in kids who’ve been extremely neglected and verbally, sexually or physically abused, do not be upset with me and how I feel. I’m not the devil and neither is the girl or woman who has to go through with something like that. They know what they’re doing more than you will ever know what they are doing so maybe you should think more diplomatic, show a little empathy, stop bombing clinics and let that person choose what is best for them.  Would you like these girls to start having backstreet abortions? Taking a wire hangar to themselves?

OK I went a little further than I desired to. But I leave you with these words:

It is what it is. True story.

It is what it is. True story.

____________________________________

Technically I may have only read the intro and part of the first quote. It said about a baby sucking its thumb at 8 weeks. I saw Juno and if you’ve seen Juno you know what scene I am referring to.

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She’s Speaking My Language

February 2, 2013 By

“I’m tired. Living with a mental illness is utterly exhausting and no matter what I do, it will never be over. This is for the rest of my life. When I pause and think on that, it’s still utterly devastating. I clearly have some work to do on acceptance…”

                                                                —Disorderly Chickadee

I am looking forward to reading more of this Chickadee’s blog. I was in the midst of doing so when these few lines she wrote struck me.

I was a real resistant patient when I was first diagnosed. I was resistant the first time around and even more so the second time around. You’d think if you’d gone batshit crazy twice, you’d be willing to go into treatment. Nope, that wasn’t me. I was difficult.

I didn’t trust my doctor. I didn’t trust that he knew what the hell he was talking about. I didn’t want to take medications. Lithium?? I have seen the people who are on Lithium, there was no way I needed to be taking that. Seroquel?? Are YOU fucking nuts!? An Anti Fucking Psychotic. Depakote?? I don’t seizure.

I’m not these people. I saw these people everyday in my pharmacy and I am not them. They have no quality of life and their families look almost more rundown than they are.

It took me a while. It took me a while to become fully compliant. I am now only taking Lithium, Depakote (they’re butt buddies) and Lamictal. I was relieved to see the Seroquel take a hike.

I am not one of these people. My family was able to get me help just in time and my doctor, as great as he is, believes the majority of the credit for saving my ass was timing and luck. I could have been one of those people. The person who’s not all there and would have to be taken care of like a child for the rest of her life.

I don’t know if he said this for shock value, if he truly believes it, or if it’s true or not, but if my brain breaks like that again it could be permanent. Whatever the case, it keeps me completely compliant.

 

 

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