Dear Psychosis,
I see her. She shouldn't be here, she left this earth at least 7 years ago. She shows up in the strangest places. She is watching me while I sleep. She was so nice when she was alive and now she is so mean. I'm not good enough for her. I should have never been born, I'm just a burden on my family. She reminds me I was just a cockroach that used to live in her basement. She laughs at me a lot, I've gained too much weight, I am embarrassing my family. Her laughter rings through my ears. You think hearing her again would bring me so much joy. I miss her so much. If I had wished for another day with her, I would take it back. This is not what I was asking for.
I see her and hear her. That's okay... everything is fine. At least that's what I am telling myself. Others just don't understand what is going on with me. I just don't have the energy. I just need her to go away. I've talked to my therapist about what's been going on. She suggested talking back to her because I may have some unresolved things I need to say to her. That's one thing about me. I DO NOT TALK BACK. I don't give the voices I hear the time of day. I feel like if I start having a real conversation with the things I hear, then I have literally LOST IT! I'm holding on to an unraveling rope praying that it doesn't break.
Sometimes she sings. She always sang in really high pitched, operatic tones. We used to laugh about it as kids and she thought it was funny too. It's not funny anymore, she scares me. Sleep brings me peace. I turn on some kind of soundscape with the volume up so high that it's hard to think. Then I take my medicine and go to sleep. I know she is somewhere watching me. I can feel it.
I see her. She shouldn't be here, she left this earth at least 7 years ago. She shows up in the strangest places. She is watching me while I sleep. She was so nice when she was alive and now she is so mean. I'm not good enough for her. I should have never been born, I'm just a burden on my family. She reminds me I was just a cockroach that used to live in her basement. She laughs at me a lot, I've gained too much weight, I am embarrassing my family. Her laughter rings through my ears. You think hearing her again would bring me so much joy. I miss her so much. If I had wished for another day with her, I would take it back. This is not what I was asking for.
I see her and hear her. That's okay... everything is fine. At least that's what I am telling myself. Others just don't understand what is going on with me. I just don't have the energy. I just need her to go away. I've talked to my therapist about what's been going on. She suggested talking back to her because I may have some unresolved things I need to say to her. That's one thing about me. I DO NOT TALK BACK. I don't give the voices I hear the time of day. I feel like if I start having a real conversation with the things I hear, then I have literally LOST IT! I'm holding on to an unraveling rope praying that it doesn't break.
Sometimes she sings. She always sang in really high pitched, operatic tones. We used to laugh about it as kids and she thought it was funny too. It's not funny anymore, she scares me. Sleep brings me peace. I turn on some kind of soundscape with the volume up so high that it's hard to think. Then I take my medicine and go to sleep. I know she is somewhere watching me. I can feel it.
Now before someone wants to admit me to the psych ward, I realize that even though this is a hard time right now, I know that isn't reality. She can't possibly be here. I mean, she's dead. I've mentioned insight before, but I want to take some time and talk about it again. The definition of Insight is the power or act of seeing into a situation: the act or result of apprehending the inner nature of things or of seeing intuitively. I have insight with my psychosis. I can tell you what reality is. Does it make it emotionally easier? No, not really. But it's a lot easier not thinking that she is standing right in front of me. I will say that my medicine helps keep me grounded in reality too.
Medicine and me don't go well together. Especially when you have voices telling you that you are poisoning yourself or there are microchips in the medicine capsules. I struggle with this every day. I hear all the time to "Just take your medicine, everyone takes medicine for all kinds of things" or "If a diabetic didn't take their medicine you would wonder why they stopped. That they need it to stay healthy." All these things are true, but it feels like it's just a way to guilt me into taking my medicine. I know the medicine helps when I take it. I also know it's changing my brain, my way of thinking.
Medicine and me don't go well together. Especially when you have voices telling you that you are poisoning yourself or there are microchips in the medicine capsules. I struggle with this every day. I hear all the time to "Just take your medicine, everyone takes medicine for all kinds of things" or "If a diabetic didn't take their medicine you would wonder why they stopped. That they need it to stay healthy." All these things are true, but it feels like it's just a way to guilt me into taking my medicine. I know the medicine helps when I take it. I also know it's changing my brain, my way of thinking.
This post is definitely different from most of my previous ones, but I just needed to write about what has been going on lately. Blogging is my therapy and coping mechanism. If no one reads my posts, at least I felt good getting it out.
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