Psychosis

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    Happy Holidays everyone

    The year is almost over and it’s like everyday I am just waiting for time to pass by instead of living. I hope everyone has a safe and fun holiday. I hope next year is better than this year and I hope we all live it up. Life is short and I don’t want to waste another day. May we all have a year full of new memories and exciting times ahead.

    #CheckInWithMe #Holiday #Disability #Trauma #Suicide #Selfharm #Depression #Anxiety #BipolarDisorder #Schizophrenia #Psychosis #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #MentalHealth #SchizophreniaSpectrumPsychoticDisorders #PTSD

    Post
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    Recovering from psychosis

    Stories never really appealed to me as a child, my mind was always the more magical and attractive fairground. But it wasn't until my mid twenties when my mind would really take control of my reality and the stories I once knew and loved would become all I knew.

    It was 2019 and my drug dealing neighbours were stalking me. They had been disguising themselves and following me around my hometown, wherever I went. They were breaking into myhouse and stealing random belongings of mine on a frequent basis. I had contacted the police, they would eventually put this down as stalking due to the volume of distressed calls I made but there would be no further action. I wasn't just distressed, I was absolutely terrified. I confided in a small group at the beginning but as this torturous couple would chase me and shout at me down the street it was hard to keep my fears to myself.

    As my reality churned, my presentation deteriorated. I stopped eating because I believed my food was poisoned or swapped and the sheer stench coming from the fridge of horrifying. It just shows how psychosis messes with each of your senses so deeply because I could smell each and every food note, even from within its packaging.

    Psychosis is literally like your on a really bad trip for a really long time. It's so scary unless you experience it you could never understand and if you see it first hand you can only imagine what the psychotic individual is going through deep within.

    At points I even stopped washing because I believed I was getting drugged through the water in the shower, and the times I did wash I believed - with certainty - that the shower was hacked, and there were cameras in there. I believed there were cameras in the whole house, watching me wherever I went. As soon as the voices started, it was like I was on The Truman Show. I didn't think I could get any more sick, but then I did.

    I knew the Queen of England and Prince Phillip too. I was going on escapades with Phillip in the jungle. Meeting monkeys and tigers, climbing trees. I felt so free yet in reality I was the exact opposite. I wasn't leaving the house at all and I had lost contact with people who I used to know. I didn't have time to think about day to day things like eating, drinking, socialising or attending to appointments because I was forging royal scrolls from thin air and reading ancient text from the paving slabs of my back garden. I thought I was decoding something in order to become a Queen myself. It was all so thrilling to me. I felt I was finally living up to my potential and nobody could stop me.

    My bedroom became my sanctuary where I really could get into my visions, uninterrupted, mostly. Here is where I would wait for my call up to be Wonder Woman, truly believing it would happen. Believing that I would get that knock on the door. My mind was going as fast as the speed of light and I was keeping up, but as fast as I was keeping up I was quickly moving onto the next script. Here is where I would plan my wedding to a field of footballers, intrinsically and meticulously. With harps and pianos, I was creating sheets of music out of the air and it was just fascinating. Then out of nowhere, Lionel Messi proposed to me in the sky and the build up of it all came down and the glass shattered me in real time. In this room I even sent my stalkers to a Russian prison and agreed to press Kim Jong-un's nuke button should they try and escape. It was all so real. But only to me. That is why those memories are so precious and tender.

    I went back to my childhood but in a different era. I was a maniac child, and was in Nazi Germany with my mother who was also living on the edge. We would fly helicopters over the camps and "lift spirits up" as we built Pizza Huts and MacDonalds etc. across the land. I came intro contact with my old next door neighbour who used to look after me and my brother when we were really little. We would watch Tom and Jerry together and that's what we did in my mind. However, all of the episodes were about war and terrorism and bombings.

    I could go on and on about my hallucinations and delusions and how I was under the sea with all the fishies and the mermaids and the colours were beautiful and intense and amazing, out of this world. I was sectioned four times in eighteen months, living with pyschosis for two years so have lots of stories but whenever I talk about it I seem to scare people and make them uncomfortable.

    On my last hospitalization I thought there were army studies going on inside the hospital and my life was being threaten there. My psychosis got so bad I wanted to disown my family and friends and move to Saudi Arabia. I refused to leave hospital until I got to go there. This was because I truly believed my mother was a murderer and had buried bodies in our back garden.

    So much has gone on and I think people think that I have forgotten about - but I can't and I won't. I need to process what happened to me somehow and it's hard doing it alone.

    Even though I am in recovery from psychosis and am what the doctors class as "well", life has seemed so jaded and I don't feel like I can do anything like I did before. Everyday and everything feels like a new challenge.

    Before I experience psychosis I had a long term partner, a caring group of friends, a decent job, hobbies and interests I enjoyed, a lovely home, a supportive family and the most loving dog. All in all, I didn't have much to worry about.

    Since having psychosis most of that has been stripped away from me. Me and my partner split, most of my old friends don't speak to me anymore and if/when they do it's like pulling teeth or usually to satisfy their needs, I lost my job due to poor mental health, I was even made homeless a couple times during my psychosis which made me feel like my world was imploding. Luckily I had a good support network so I didn't go without a place to stay, but knowing that you are too much for your own family is one thing and also knowing that things could have been alot worse if a friend hadn't of stepped in is another. It still breaks my heart and is difficult to comprehend today.

    I know I was out of control, but it wasn't my fault. I was put on ADHD medication when I had Bipolar aswell. That sent me into a spin and even though the doctors took me off the ADHD meds during my first hospital stint, the amphetamine had already taken control of my brain and the effects were long lasting.

    Despite having so much viciously taken away from me, I still feel I have a lot to live for. I know recovery is possible. This time two years ago I didn't know if I would make it home for Christmas. Now I'm about to put my Christmas decorations up with my mother. I have come full circle.

    Recovery is not linear. You will have good days and bad days, but as long as you find a life that works for you then that's a life worth living. Just remember that the comeback is always stronger than the setback, so be prepared to leave behind the life you lived pre-psychosis. Bigger things are coming, just wait and see. #Psychosis #MentalHealth

    Post

    Stillborn

    I was stillborn, though

    My body lived. My spirit

    Perished on waking.

    Ambition never

    Burned in me, nor cold embers

    To mark it present.

    When my spirit died

    It hollowed me, gaping and

    Empty and pointless.

    No purpose connects

    With me. The void holds nothing

    That could join me with

    A reason to live.

    I was damned in a past life and

    Died in mortal sin

    And this life is the

    Hell that punishes me for

    Daring to exist.

    #Depression #Trauma #Psychosis

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    Toxic Positivity and Its Enemy Vulnerability

    There’s a point that positivity can be toxic.

    It doesn’t seem possible that it can be toxic with manifestation and good things come to those who wait. There is a huge push for people to be positive and there is a place for positive thinking. But there is also room to sit with your feelings and acknowledge pain, hurt, disappointment, and all these negative emotions that people are willing to push down.

    I’ve had several life events change; separation, job loss, looking for a roommate, jobs falling through, change in medication, depression, and a sprinkle of psychosis to add to that. I am happy to be positive but behind closed doors there is the reality of depression, hopelessness, and each time I’ve been approached by someone, mask on.

    It is extremely exhausting keeping this mask on that everything is fine. I’m at the point that if I was honest with my emotions and this toxic positivity that I showcase in front of people, maybe they’d understand the depth of my sorrow.

    There is this constant fear that if I slip into the role of depression and showcase my true emotions, there’s rejection. But is it fair for no one to understand that I am suffering? Positivity because isolation and isolation with someone with a severe mental illness can cause a great deal of harm.

    Everyone always says that you need to check on the people who are silently suffering. The people who make others laugh or who give their everything to bring someone else happiness. We’ve lost many people to suicide due to the fact that no one saw the signs, but toxic positivity is one of those signs.

    My life feels like it’s falling apart, but if you came across me for a moment, you’d never guess the depth of my depression. It feels like I’m in sinking sand and as its swallowing me, I’m waving goodbye with a smile.

    This type of toxic positivity is more than what it should be. For the first time in a year, I am struggling mentally. How can I climb out of this?

    Vulnerability is something that is extremely hard for people to incorporate in their life. We are always wanting to show strength and that everything is fine. But it’s not. And that’s okay.

    I don’t want my life to be run with this idea that I must remain positive for everyone around me. One of the issues last year during my hospitalization is that no one knew that I was suicidal. It’s not something that is an easy conversation. I’m slipping back into that state of mind and I don’t know how to crawl myself out. Confide. It’s a terrible, frightening thing to open the gilded cage surrounding your heart.

    I looked up the suicide hotline for the first time in a year. I stared. It seemed impossible and yet tangible to feel like there are options. That if I can reach out to a stranger and talk about my struggles, why can’t vulnerability be something that I can incorporate to my friends and family?

    It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to be a little bitter about your situation because you know what? Life sucks sometimes. Life isn’t fair. Life is hard. Positivity has its place but when it overtakes yourself and what you need…that’s when it becomes toxic because you aren’t doing yourself a favor of being true to your own feelings.

    “Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” – Brene Brown

    Vulnerability isn’t something to fear, but not showing up for yourself and being authentic to yourself? The real fear is mask on. You are allowed to be yourself, whether that’s in a moment of triumph or if you are in sinking sand.

    Don’t let toxic positivity outweigh your struggles.

    Mask off.

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    From Existing to Living Intentionally in Recovery from Schizophrenia

    Living with schizophrenia is the most challenging experience I have ever been through. Today I’m living intentionally in recovery, but for years schizophrenia defined me in a very negative way.

    In my experience, schizophrenia is a domineering and abusive mental health condition and for years, I had no way out. For a decade, I was not living, or thriving, I was existing. Schizophrenia destroyed my identity, my sense of hope and my will to live for a long time.

    My mental health challenges started when I was 11 years old with major depression. I saw the world as an incredibly dark place where only misery thrived. The darkness in my mind gave way to paranoia and voices and when I was 17, I attempted suicide. I ended up in the emergency room with a concussion, I lied about what had really happened and was released that same day.

    As the years went on, my psychosis continued evolving and obliterated reality. I was hearing callous and angry voices 24/7, I could not sleep, I was seeing things that had no foundation in reality and I believed things to the core that had no tangible evidence of being true. My mind was overtaken by paranoia and constant fear.

    The biggest source of fear came from my belief that I was being targeted because I was pregnant with the second coming of Christ. For this reason, I believed that the government was broadcasting my daily life to the world and had implanted a chip in my front tooth in order to monitor and record my thoughts. I felt threatened by most everyone and constantly watched my back.

    At the time and for 13 years, I was also in an abusive relationship. As terrible as schizophrenia is, I often hid in my mind to escape the pain I called my life.

    When I was 27 years old, I was rescued by the local fire department. I was hospitalized for a month in the psychiatric hospital. From there, I was hospitalized every year for three more years, always staying for a month.

    The last time I was hospitalized was in 2017, and this is when I left my ex-husband and went to live with my aunt.

    In my experience, with each break, the schizophrenia became worse. I was battling something that I was not aware of and had no tools to fight with. I was living with anosognosia, or lack of insight, during that period in my life.

    After I was released in 2017, I struggled significantly for a year. I had been over prescribed antipsychotic medications and my brain felt fried. Beyond that, the psychotic symptoms were more powerful than ever. I believed many illogical things and specifically that metal was a living being and from a spiritual plane, which existed in another galaxy that I was originally from prior to being sent to Earth. I believed that most of my family were demons disguised as humans and had been tasked with monitoring my every movement because this time around, I was the second coming of Christ.

    Everyday was a nightmare, particularly because of the voices that constantly tormented me and made me question whether I was a good person. The nightmares I was also experiencing during this time resulted in many sleepless nights. When I could not sleep, I would leave my aunt’s house and pace outside for hours. I also walked around outside endlessly most of the day yelling at people and cars.

    The turning point came when I was given the right medications. From there, all but one of the visual hallucinations disappeared, I no longer experienced external voices, only internal voices and the delusions lessened in their grip over me.

    Over the last few years, I have been doing a lot of growing in my recovery, particularly in the last year. Last year I met my husband, Alejandro, and he also lives with paranoid schizophrenia. We share unconditional and genuine love and support for one another and it’s a beautiful thing that I’ve never experienced until meeting him.

    With Alejandro’s continuously flowing support, I’m working full-time with a nonprofit, The San Antonio Clubhouse and specifically, the Connection Center program. I get to work from home doing what I absolutely love and feel fulfilled by. I’m a mental health peer specialist training coordinator and certified mental health peer specialist.

    I also founded a nonprofit, www.nuevamentevivo.org in 2021 where I educate others around #Schizophrenia in the Spanish-speaking Hispanic community.

    Looking back into first starting my recovery process, I never imagined that I would be where I am now. I know who I am, I have an overabundance of hope and I am genuinely happy to be alive.

    Post

    My dad told me the mental hospital is my home and that he will keep locking me up in there

    It’s just I want this to end. It’s not fair what they are doing to me. I deserve the best and I don’t deserve to punish. I called dcf on my parents because they were being rude to me. My mom told me to kill myself and my dad told me he doesn’t want to keep me. I tried group homes and they were terrible. I have nowhere to go, I don’t want to be homeless. I feel terrible and they are stressing me out. Mental hospitals down here in Florida don’t even know how to help out properly.

    #CheckInWithMe #Disability #MentalHealth #Anxiety #Trauma #Suicide #Selfharm #Depression #BipolarDisorder #Psychosis #Schizophrenia #ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #PTSD

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    My birthday is next month. Send me a positive message for my birthday that I will remember forever please

    I can’t believe the year is almost over and I am gonna turn 26 years old. Please leave me a nice little message for my birthday coming up and wish me the best.

    #CheckInWithMe #Trauma #Suicide #Selfharm #Depression #BipolarDisorder #Anxiety #PTSD #Psychosis #Schizophrenia #SchizoaffectiveDisorder #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #MentalHealth #ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder #Disability

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    BPD & Psychosis

    24% of BPD patients reported severe psychotic symptoms and about 75% had dissociative experiences and paranoid ideation. Thus, we start with an overview regarding the prevalence of psychotic symptoms in BPD patients#BPD #Psychosis

    Question

    How do people with bipolar disorder navigate pregnancy?

    I have bipolar 1. I want to marry and have children, but I'm scared of
    1. Whether my psychiatrist will agree to change or take me off my meds while trying/pregnant. I'm on lithium and ziprasidone (geodon). Both cause harm to the fetus. My psychiatrist never agrees with me whenever I point out the side effects of my medications. She always says my symptoms must be due to something else. I think she may have the same response when I tell her I want to go off my meds to have a kid.
    2. Postpartum psychosis
    3. How to avoid sleep loss while taking care of a baby. For me, sleep loss inevitably leads to a manic episode
    I'm still figuring out if having bipolar disorder is a good enough reason to not have kids even if you really want them. If it's really bad then I'd have to change my priorities and marry someone who doesn't want kids either or already has kids and doesn't want any more.
    Is there anyone out there who's had a bipolar diagnosis before having kids and it turned out alright? I'd really like to know.
    If someone is child free by choice because of bipolar I would also like to know about it.
    Thank you. #Pregnancy #baby #Child #Parenting

    Post

    Isolation

    Isolation is a clown’s smile

    Painted red

    Isolation is a lover

    Because its kisses are sweet

    Isolation is a tiger’s claw

    Extended weapon

    Isolation is a cloak

    Like nights lure

    Isolation is fear

    Will you even know?

    Isolation is a capturer

    Stockholm’s friend

    Isolation is mental illness

    Because it’s all in your “head”

    Isolation is a deadly prison

    Like Bethlem screams

    Isolation is voices

    No one else can hear

    Isolation is

    Suicide

    #mightypoetry #Poetry #Suicide #poems #MentalHealth #Psychosis