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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Paranoia

paranoia
picture source

 

Scattered thoughts like birds
Anxious and rabid
Etch their songs across the corners
Tittering madly
Rocking back and forth

Tick tick tick goes the clock…must be a good girl…
Tic tic tic goes my neck…must not be a stupid girl…

Voices and fingernails leave trenches along
the flesh of my human soul
Deep wells in the sand that are hard to fill
except for the madness
Gnawing away

Why do you hate me??
I’m not hiding….I’m not hiding…I’m not hiding…

I’m afraid that he still loves she
That I am replaceable just
like I was before. Replaceable
And that this is all a lie
You’re the lie

One two three…does he still love she?
One two three…everyone is better than me.

I hear them whispering
through the walls
They hate me; they all hate me
Do it they say
Do it…

Shut your eyes, hold your breath…
Fade away to nothingness

Hold your heart, watch it die…
Its been broken by a lullaby 

© The Eyes of Seraphim 2016

 

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”