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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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.