The Queen of Psychosis

I’ve decided to switch psychiatrists. A couple months ago I had a severe reaction to Lamictal, the medication I was taking for my presumed bipolar disorder. And now that I am nearly healed (still dealing with skin peeling and red blotching), he wants to PUT ME BACK ON IT. Besides risking having a relapse with another potentially fatal rash, he doesn’t listen to me when I bring up any symptoms and dismisses everything that doesn’t “fit” into the diagnosis that he already gave me, which is Bipolar 1 with Psychotic Features.

Psychotic I get, I’m like the queen of psychosis. Well, not really…but it feels that way.

So I am going to call the new doctor this Monday since they are accepting new patients. I wrote down all my symptoms because when I’m under pressure I get flustered and forget things easily. I can share some of them with you all, but not all…just because some are personal. Before I begin, in a nutshell I don’t believe that I am bipolar and this has been confirmed by others who are very close to me. There is something else going on here. Is it BPD? Or is it something completely different? Hopefully the doctor will provide me some answers.

  1. Sign posts are sentient beings out to get me. A couple of times I see them uproot and lean in towards my car, trying to smash the windshield. It’s terrifying.
  2. I hear the voices of friends and relatives telling me terrible things. Sometimes its voices I don’t recognize. Once I heard a man with an Australian accent narrating my progress at work. It was strange.
  3. Things can seem odd to me. Colors in my environment can become neon bright, I can feel words stumbling out of my mouth like blocks, and people’s faces look like lava lamps.
  4. Sometimes I space out so badly I forget how to read, move or speak.
  5. If I sit/stand to close to someone or touch them they can then read my mind.

That’s all I am going to relay to you guys at the moment. I have my suspicions as to what it MAY be, but I could be way off. Just wish me luck come Monday, hopefully I can make an appointment.


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Diary Post – February 5 2007

I’m much better off than I was all those years ago, but memories still sting. I feel for my past self. People always wonder what they would do with a time machine, and a part of me wants to go back and save my naive little self from nearly three years of hell. But then that would change my future and I might not be sitting here today writing in this blog, and certainly not this post.

So I’ve been casually reading through my old diary from college, just remarking at how I went from optimistic to despairing in such a short couple of months. I had been dating a very abusive partner at the time and it broke me. He loved to accuse me of having a multitude of “miscommunication’s” with him. His terminology for “not understanding” his method of thought or his wild philosophies. And it pains me to admit it, but I feel as though I have absorbed some of his characteristics without even meaning to. I am working so hard to undo the damage he has sown upon me. The entry below details one such miscommunication we had.

“Paul and I had gotten into an argument about me not “understanding” him. I was extremely distraught over this and I wanted him to know that, but I am afraid to tell him and then have him reiterate that I don’t understand him. This seems to be the biggest issue that happens between us, I am devastated by the whole thing; I’m eating less, I’m depressed, unmotivated, and I keep getting sick. 

I want things to work out between us and I’m doing my absolute best to keep it all working. I’m trying to not be pessimistic, I want to be the one who is positive because Paul isn’t always happy.

I missed my first class this morning because that night I was up extremely late trying to set things right. Paul started arguing with me going on about how I never could understand him and that we were having another miscommunication (whatever that meant). We were in bed and there came a point where Paul kept pushing me away from him, in a literal physical sense. Whenever I tried to settle down into a sleeping position, I would inadvertently have my body touching his because the bed was so small. When I tried to place my hands along his back, he pushed me off and away, almost toppling me out of bed. I was heartbroken. I made my best effort to try and sleep without touching him, which meant that my head was no longer on a pillow and I was practically dangling off the edge of the mattress. 

I can never do anything right, and that’s an honest answer. What am I doing wrong? Am I blind, deaf? I thought I understood him, I really did, but now all of his insistent arguments against me are making me think otherwise.”

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you gaslighting. I realize that now, I didn’t have a word for it back then or even understood what it was. But now I know better.

What came next in the diary were the lyrics to “Weak and Powerless” by A Perfect Circle. I wrote those in there because that was exactly how I was feeling, weak and powerless.

“Little angel go away
Come again some other day
The devil has my ear today
I’ll never hear a word you say…”

Stay tuned for more diary posts and poetry. Leave questions in the comment section and don’t forget to subscribe!