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Just Another Groundhog Day (Part Two)

Am I angry at losing my job? Am I happy to be stabbed in the back after thirty years of loyal service? I'd have to have been, even crazier than I am now, not to give a damn, wouldn't I? Do I hate the bastard who sacked me? No. It took me years to get over the pain and humiliation but now I feel nothing and haven't for some time. To feel pain and anger is to hold out some vestige of hope for redemption or revenge but neither sting me to life anymore. At first I wanted revenge, oh yes but I picked on the wrong person - me. I beat myself up and looked for excuses to beat other people instead. I glared and snarled, and they avoided my gaze. That look of sheer hatred, poured out of my eyes, like blood being squeezed out of a stone. Nobody would talk to me and who could blame them? People would cross the road or look down as they passed me, to avoid looking at my face and risk confronting the madman. I was just itching for a fight and a chance to let all that hurt pour out onto others. When I looked at them, all I saw was happy smiling faces that I interpreted as grimaces and sneering. Every overheard conversation became full of snide comments about me, even if it wasn't in reality. Even Susan wouldn't look me in the face and that was the start of the bust up of our marriage. Like the prisoners in The Maze Prison, I went on a dirty strike, in protest against an unfair life as I saw it. I didn't shave. I didn't wash. I refused to join the human race that had betrayed me. It could get lost for all I care! (Except it was me that was lost, going nowhere.

What motive do I have for doing anything? I'm no longer preparing anything anymore, for anyone. My job used to keep me on a permanent high as every new day bought a new challenge, every minute a new difficulty to be resolved. When I used to care, I used to feel - now nothing and no-one touches me. I make mistakes and it means nothing to me...but then, I'm nobody to anybody nowadays, anyway. I have no power, no status. When you want to live, you want others to live; when you want to die, you want others to die too - this is the real dark side of the force. When I was younger I wrote a poem that went

Hold on world,

hold on please

- I'm begging you now

on bended knees

but that doesn't apply anymore. I'd like to be polite and tell you what I really think but I don't do polite anymore, so won't say anything at all. Sartre said hell is other people and he was right, which is why I'm on my own nowadays. Why do we want to be heroes? Because we know we're villains (losers - frustrated by what we don't have, know or can do). Enlightenment is simply that step, where we go from helpless failure to knowing winners: Understanding dawns and successful action follows - knowing what the answer to our problems is (The only thing that we ever truly fight is our own ignorance and it's this that drives us mad with despair at our own helplessness). We hate the isolation and loneliness of failure but love the adulation and recognition that success brings. I of course have none of this in my life, so I'm a wise failure.

Funnily enough I was told that time drags you're depressed but I've found it's the opposite. When the gap between waking and sleeping is filled with nothing, there is nothing to distinguish any part of the day from any other part of it. I have no details to latch onto as they don't exist in my world./ It's simply the switching on and off of a light (or maybe that should be 'life'). Existence is like sand slipping through your fingers - nothing solid to grasp. It's like being drunk but not having a hangover. The same confusion, the same clumsy disregard for everything and everyone else.

My doctor sent me to a psychologist, when I was first diagnosed. The hospital had this guy in it, who just sat in this wheelchair, staring into space. The doctor told me he was suffering from clinical depression and I was lucky not to be that bad. I told him about a friend, who'd been in The First Gulf War and was just like him but the medics called it post traumatic stress disorder. Same thing in some ways, he said - takes you from the world and leaves you shut off, immobilised - similar to catatonia but not caused by a chemical imbalance. Nice man but he could do nothing for me and knew it. It did split up the week though and gave me something to look forward to.

I look at my wife

and think about the time..

Tick-tock, tick-tock...

When we first met

and waltzed hand-in-hand,

through life's doorways...

Tick-tock, tick-tock...

Now I stare at the clock

on the mantlepiece,

watching my life tick away

and think nothing at all,

about nothing at all...

Tick-tock, tick-tock...

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I think I might have Unspecified Personality Disorder with Schizotypal, Narccistic and Antisocial pathology

I apologize upfront if I will be a little bit off topic, but I will try to come up with the questions.

So I was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disorder around the age of 3 when I didn’t even speak. Maybe it was too early (?)

Then I started to attend preschool and school in special education, and around seven years old, I started to speak fluently in two languages. Though I still had development delay, I was not good and still not good with math. At that point my diagnosis changed to Autism (since PDD did not exist anymore). Not sure if that was right…

Overall I enjoyed school (even though I was bullied by “normal” kids, which is not unusual and I forgive them), including middle school, but high school was too stressful for me, since I was transferred to the best school in the district against my will and without my friends from middle school. At some point my mental condition got really bad, and I ended up with Catatonia at age 15, which is easy to diagnose correctly since I could not move. At that point I started to receive mental health medications (never had them before). My parents fought the district and I was transferred to a “normal” school (still in special ed), which I enjoyed very much.

My mental situation was changing from time to time and I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. My psychiatrist claims that all my conditions can be explained by either Autism or Bipolar. I have no reason to disagree, even though "Forensic" Psychology is one of my restricted interests and I can easily come up with many different diagnoses.

I had several surgeries, including kidney removal at age of two. Recently I had another tumor in my spine, which was removed a couple of weeks ago. As a result I developed a severe bipolar crisis. I cannot sleep since I have nightmares and hear voices. My normal medications do not help anymore. My psychiatrist is trying to find a new combination.

Do you think this can cause personality disorder?

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I want to give up

I don’t want to die but I would really prefer if the earth could swallow me.
I have been fighting with an agency to give me consistent and appropriate services. Etc etc
But today they explicitly stated I was “choosing” not to go to a homeless shelter. They also pointed out that I missed one of their (unscheduled) calls and implied I wasn’t trying hard enough to answer
Them: “you really need to make sure you’re watching your phone.”
Me: “I am- but like I told you, I am actively experiencing long periods of catatonia and dissociation. I cannot just snap out of it.” This is a client rights officer at a mental health agency.

I feel so alone. I feel like the life I’m fighting for isn’t worth it: everyone has moved on with their lives. My shattered life is all over the place in full view of my batterers and biggest critics. I feel stupid for trying. And I feel like maybe I’m not trying hard enough. All I do all day long is repeat all of the things I have tried to people on the phone and it’s becoming so hard to keep trying.
I have had conversations with my service providers about how staying in a shelter would be inappropriate given my #ChronicMigraines and #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder
I believe I am at an increased safety risk because of the medicine i am prescribed to manage my #Anxiety and #ADHD , as well as my severely debilitating symptoms of both migraines and cptsd. I spend most of my mornings curled up from nausea, I don’t eat much and I cannot sleep. I am so physically weak, lightheaded, chronically disoriented, I cannot do anything to feel better right now and there isn’t any immediate tangible help being offered. There is another agency who is tagging in now but it just feels like it’s too late.
And I’m worried that maybe I’m not trying hard enough to find a place. And it seems that people want to help until they hear how bad it all is and suddenly it becomes my fault somehow. Like missing that call. Nevermind the agency went literal months without talking to me despite me repeatedly telling them I’m not safe.
I don’t know. I’m so tired and I’m so scared. I don’t feel human.
#CheckInWithMe

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Do you go through periods of catatonia as part of your mental illness?

Trying to reach out to people who understand what I go through.
I know that catatonia is pretty common but I'm interested to learn how it affects you in comparison to other people and their experience of it. #Catatonia #MentalHealth #SchizophreniaSpectrumPsychoticDisorders #Awareness #Experiences

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Story Time of Sadness: My Terrible Summer Part 1

"You should have her committed today," she said as though I'd left the room. Her thick German accent nearly plastering the words on Jim's face. "She is obviously faking it. She was fine out in the waiting room and now she can't move?" She was right, I was closest to normal, waiting to see her, huddled on my fiance's arm in the cushioned leather chairs. It was actually an "okay" moment but so were they all before the dystonia hit and I became a breathing statue. Like a scene straight out of The House of Wax, the 1985 version, I felt and heard everything but could not respond. The hospital called it #Dystonia mixed with #Catatonia , I called it one of the scariest summers of my life. Now I can and will be the first to admit that I have problems and, like most of the world, I deal with #Anxiety and #Depression . I have in fact attempted suicide more than once and found myself severely depressed in the months leading up to that terrible appointment. But I deal and have always dealt with my mental illness and more often than not, I'm happy. It's apart of me, but not all of me. I guess I should back up some, so that it makes a little more sense.

I can remember the moment my eye began to twitch. It was a weekday morning and the sun was bleeding through the blinds. I could smell coffee wafting through the halls and fried eggs. And the low hum of fluorescent bulbs pairing nicely with the office chatter. But I couldn't concentrate or wouldn't concentrate at least for the benefit of my sanity. Instead I observed the sunlight dripping off the plastic blades like liquid gold, spilling onto the brown hair of my supervisor. Her desk sitting inches from mine in all the glory of that window. I wanted to be out in that sun drinking it up.  Just the stillness of a morning sun and I to share a moment. I wanted the grass between my fingers and the chill that collected on the blades from the night before.

Hiking across the campus in the shoes of a student with unrealized unreachable dreams. There was a thrill to living on the campus grounds and out of the supervision of parents. Suddenly you stepped down on the thoroughfare, sugary soda in one hand, bag on back. A long day's trek brings you to a cloud dust of a city, although not really, it's actually quite breathtaking. Passing eyes wandering toward your unfamiliar gaze as you tip your hat to everyone. "'Mornin,' I spoke. The silent folk nod or smile, but some simply ride on. The city was small comparably to the standards of Knox-Wood, a seedy town not two hours ride. I clutched onto my parcel and walked into the West Salloon, an all girls inn. After bidding my kinfolk good-bye I head out to reap the benefits of the wild west. Or otherwise known as, spending three to four years in the art program, rooming with my little sister, panicking everyday and fighting the urge to cry every second. It brought a whole new layer to the nighttime sadness that I'd feel from time to time as the sun slowly sank off and out of my life.

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Info on Regression in Ds

#DownSyndrome #Regression Our daughter lost all skills after turning 17 y/o. It’s not just Ds! The medical community has not agreed upon a name yet (Acute Onset Autism, Disintegration Disorder, Regression/Catatonia, Acute Clinical Deterioration, etc.), but, here’s info on a new treatment option. My daughter improved with Lorazepam and Prozac (still given daily at 21 y/o) but looking for more options.

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Question if there is online self-test to determine if I need to go to mental hospital

How do a self-questioner test to determine if I am a danger to myself or others to go to mental hospital? I can check myself in if I meet this criteria, it's just that my symptoms of Bipolar Disorder is so mild, because it's stable with medications, what if I am a danger to myself and to others, it's just not manifested yet? I also do well in school and function well in society, it's hard for me to know for sure until It's too late.

I have psychological highs and lows.

When I have psychological highs, I meet diagnostic criteria for hypomania, but I used to have mania with delusions in the past.

When I have psychological lows, I meet diagnostic for milder form of depression, but I used to meet diagnostic criteria for severe depression and catatonia in the past.

I want to make it short, I don't want to list all the symptoms of Bipolar Disorder I had in the past and present, I just want to do online self-test for High-functioning people like me who might meet the criteria for being a danger to themselves or others.

I am sorry, I am having a serious mental health crisis. I know that it's sounds mild, because I able to think clearly, as if I have atypical symptology and symptology threshold.

Once police officers that checked if I was okay, they told me how well I communicate and how good my social skills are, and I told them that because I have milder form of Bipolar 1 Disorder and Autism is a spectrum, and they understood.

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I feel like I have the same phenomena of how it feels like to have Schizophrenia Spectrum and Other Psychotic Disorders.

I feel like I have the same phenomena of how it feels like to have Schizophrenia, because I had delusions in tbe past. But I have feel more related to people who have history of delusions. I had delusions for ten years, and other delusions explained by neurodevelopental disorder.

I have Bipolar Disorder.

I am sorry that I said that, but what I experienced and described is a very serious mental illness.

I also had catatonia and some disorganized speech when I had severe manic episode at the age of fifteen, but I had delusions the most.