Teetering on the Edge

woman

It’s been some time since I’ve posted anything onto this site, my apologizes. I’d like to take this moment to speak about mental health, or in my case just rant a little bit. I’ve been dealing with a lot of ups and downs, and the downs have been brutal. Like pre-medication brutal. I tried looking for a new psychiatrist, but that road was a dead end, so I am stuck with the one I have. He isn’t terrible, but I know he could do a better job at listening. And my diagnosis confuses me. In the past, I’ve gone through so many different labels and as it stands today, I, according to my psychiatrist, have rapid cycling bipolar I with psychotic features in addition to the borderline personality disorder I was diagnosed with back in 2011 at the Horsham Clinic. That’s a lot to bite off and chew, but I get by.

Right now, I’m on the edge, sort of teetering between sanity and the abyss. I’m starting to have auditory hallucinations again, and I can now recognize that I’m having them. I hear a woman screaming and making feral sounding noises. It scratches at my brain like razor blades and claws, like there is a trapped animal inside my skull. I always have trouble trying to find ways to articulate these incidents, and until recently I was at a loss, that is until a certain movie came out in 2005, The Exorcism of Emily Rose. There were several scenes in that movie that resonated with me, and while I knew the movie was about a possession, Emily’s mannerisms really hit home for me.

 

While there are many scenes, this one reminds me what I hear when I’m in the throes of a wild depression, hearing multiple screaming voices and on the verge of doing something destructive, like cutting, binge drinking or idealizing suicide. It’s the screaming that I hear so prominently, and it’s always a woman’s.

I’ve had several personas inhabit me over the years. And when I say that, I mean that my personality has shifted based on certain external stimuli. It feels like I am not in control of my body when this happens. Sometimes it’s violent and at other times it’s a docile change. Over the years, I’ve boiled down these personas or, archetypes, as I’ve come to call them to four. The first is the White Lady, a cold and calculating spectral looking woman. I see her coming for me without a face, her hands outstretched towards my heart and when she seizes it, I feel myself falling away and her presence getting stronger until I’m left as nothing but a spectator in my own mind. I feel like I’m stuck in the back of a police car, banging on the grate while she smirks and drives me around. The last time she took control of me, I almost killed myself. I vaguely remember taking a kitchen blade and carving up my left arm before passing out on the floor and being discovered by my father. When I came too, I was still not in control, it felt like an extreme dissociative episode. Colors were vibrant yet the world was blurry, and the White Lady just laughed, a low menacing cackle, as my father attempted to bandage me up.

Next up is Ravenous, who looks like a black and red werewolf type creature. Feral, angry and irrational. He appears when I feel a normal amount of anger, tearing away at my rationality until he claws his way through into my brain and takes over. I remember distinctly this happening many times, and again it is accompanied by a woman screaming. Once, many years ago, Ravenous took control and I had a red-out. I saw red and proceeded to act out violently.

Soooo, I planned on writing more, especially about the other two archetypes, but I don’t feel very well right now so I shall, hopefully, continue on a later post. Thank you for listening to my ramble this evening and I promise to update very soon.

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Beyond Our Control

I almost cut myself today.

It was my first day back at work after being on vacation for a whole week with boyfriend. So if you were wondering why I hadn’t posted last week that was why. Today started off alright, but then a thought crept into my head and burrowed its way into my personal knot of paranoia and anxiety. It nested there until it grew too large for me to ignore. The thought screamed at me until I paid attention to it. Within moments I broke down and acknowledged my fear, it was so loud I found it impossible not to.

That set the mood for the rest of the day, unfortunately. Have you ever felt so anxious that you couldn’t stop shaking, you can’t breath and you forget how to swallow? That was me all morning leading up to the afternoon. I ended up not eating anything other than a Special K chocolate protein shake. I still don’t feel hungry, but then again stress will do that to you.

My boyfriend is currently talking me down via text message since he lives in Maryland. I can’t imagine how he deals with me. I guess love truly does conquer all. But I can’t help but feel horribly guilty for how I feel. I don’t want to feel this way, at all. Its awful!

In other news, I keep seeing people in my room at night. They won’t let me sleep, they talk to me (asking me to play games in the middle of the night) and scare me awake (I saw a young boy with shark teeth rush my side of the bed from the corner of the closet). I don’t know what to do about this, am I going mad? I see my psychiatrist again tonight so I’m going to bring all this up to him. The paranoia, the anxiety, the depression, seeing people in my room at night, and finally the cutting. I haven’t cut myself in so very long, I am afraid to have a relapse.

This is going to be a long post tonight, and for that I somewhat apologize (unless you guys enjoy longer posts). I wrote a poem based off a dream that I had and I wanted to share it will you all. The poem is also an illustration of myself in some regards and if I remember correctly, it highlighted a separation that I experienced. I wrote this poem with heavy imagery in mind, chronicling a journey between two people through fantasy and chaos. I hope you enjoy it. It is a long poem, but worth every line.

Continue reading “Beyond Our Control”

I’m Baaaaaack!

My goodness, it has been awhile since I had last posted to this blog. My sincerest apologies for that. However, now that I am back I’m hoping that my mental health allows for my motivation to stay in check. My plan is post something on this blog once a week.

A lot has happened in the years leading up to this post. I have since found a much better job that pays halfway decently AND it gives me benefits! Last year I was engaged, but that whole thing fell through. My to-be wedding date is coming up, this October the 1st and I honestly feel a little weird about it. Is it normal to feel weird about that? I mean, I am not upset that I am not getting married to the guy anymore, but sometimes I think I mourn the concept. I was once almost going to be married. That whole thing. But ANYWAYS, the plan for that specific day is to make a new memory. My boyfriend (yes, I am seeing someone and he is completely wonderful) and I are going to take a weekend road trip…somewhere…and replace my once to be wedding date with a much better memory. It’s a brilliant idea.

My adventures in the quest to improve my mental health has been one seriously fucked up roller-coaster. From the first time I was seen by a psychiatrist at sixteen to current times at twenty-nine, I’ve been diagnosed with everything from Depression to Depression with Psychotic Features, Borderline Personality Disorder, Bipolar 1, Bipolar 1 with Psychotic Features and now the new diagnosis my therapist has for me is Schizophrenia or Schizoaffective Disorder (basically that means I have schizophrenia along with a mood disorder like bipolar or depression). And the cherry on top is that I might also have OCD. Good god that is a mouthful.

I’m frustrated because while yes, my psychiatrist is treating my symptoms, which is important, I really want to know the name of my demon(s).

Most of the time, like 95% of the time I feel as though my mind is a perpetual Wonderland, a landscape of untamed fantastical wilderness and I am Alice falling down the rabbit hole forever. I wonder where I will end up. I’m not going to lie, but the diagnosis of schizophrenia or somewhere in that spectrum makes a hell of a lot of sense. And I haven’t been the only one to have noticed either. Two of my close friends have confided in me that they suspected this all along. Naturally I am on the fence in regards to how I feel about all this. On one hand I am afraid. Afraid of how people might treat me going forward, whether I could possibly lose my job and all that jazz. But, this fear was smoothed over when my boyfriend told me that he loves me for me, and that a diagnosis, whatever it may be, will not change that. Several of my friends and family members have also told me that this doesn’t change how they feel or relate to me.

I’m smiling right now, I feel safe and accepted. Like I can be myself.

First comes the fear and then comes the understanding. On the flip side I feel like dancing because I finally have a diagnosis that seems to make sense to me. After years of partial revelations, I feel as though my therapist actually hit the nail on the head.

 

Thank you for reading my come back post! I hope to see you all around her more often.

The Day I Forgot Everything

I had a moment the other night while I was taking off a pair of wet leggings (I had water splashed on me). My brain hiccuped and tumbled backwards into the realm of under-developmental cognitive ability. I switched off for a moment or two while the little people in my head desperately tried to reboot the system, but apparently they fucked up and left me in Under-Developed Land.

I tried to continue on with what I was doing, but I forgot how to take off clothes. There was a weird, yet completely plausible, logic in my head that allowed me to believe that it was possible to remove the leggings by pulling them up over my head or out through my arms. And so I tried. 

I looked like a derp-machine.

The only other person in the room was my cat. And if she could talk the conversation might have gone like this:

Cat: what the hell are you doing?

Me: undressing. 

Cat: by giving yourself a wedgie *deadpan cat condescending-face*

Me: this usually works, I don’t get why it isn’t now. 

Cat: *watches me struggle* you’re going to rip them.

Me: pssh…no I’m not. 

*riiiiiiip*

Cat: *very matter of fact* you ripped them.

Me: *looks bewildered*

Cat: *rolls eyes and saunters off*

Eventually my brain managed another system reboot and all went back to normal. I was mildly embarrassed, but since my cat couldn’t talk and relay the escapade to the roommates I was golden. 

On a related note, in regards to brain function, I am sitting here at work, at my desk, at this very moment trying to concentrate. My mind will not sit still. She is misbehaving. Again. She is firing every single neuron in random chaotic patterns, like a symphonic explosion of glitter. And when that mental image fades, my head starts to bubble like Alka-Seltzer in a glass of water. I close my eyes to reclaim some sense of peace, BUT NO, there is a multicolored light show of images fast forwarding behind my eyelids. 

Imagine this on repeat (sans music)

 

Ain’t that the truth. I am at the mercy of neurotic brainwaves. 

The Serial Killer in the Bathroom

Last night I tried to stay awake and write an entry BECAUSE it was Friday the 13th. It felt like an obligation. I don’t know exactly why, maybe because its practically a holiday to some people (including myself). Only comes around once in awhile.Two of my best friends even got married on Friday the 13th. Anyways…I failed, opting to fall sleep next to the cat. Even the 360 had no power over me. 

Jareth: Just fear me – love me – do as I say, and I will be your slave!

Sarah: My kingdom as great… my kingdom as great…You have no power over me!

Which reminds me, I feel like having a one girl girl’s night in again. It’s a simple affair. A nest of quilts and comforters on the bed, my softest pajamas, a bottle of white zinfandel and the film, Labyrinth. I’ll quote the entire movie. This in known. If I were to watch with other people, I demand silence during the Masquerade/As the World Falls Down scene. That’s my scene. This is also known. Come to think of it, I need to catch up on Game of Thrones.

I don’t have much to talk about today. I did go to the dentist this morning. Thrilling. Also dyed my hair copper colored auburn/red:

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I killed a man once o.O

This is my back and back tattoo (Fenrir). Apparently I made quite a mess when applying the dye. I looked like a serial killer. Thank gods I was smart enough to wear gloves. Although, taking them off made me feel even more like a killer or a demented surgeon. The bathroom was a crime scene. It was awesome. 

Tonight I am prepping material from the Burn Book to grace the pages of this blog either later this evening or tomorrow. Stay tuned!