I sat in the shower stall in my schools locker room. I got to school late that day. I cant walk into a room full of people. So i planned to stay in that shower until next class. I sat there tapping my foot on the tiled floor.
Had i missed the bell? I peeked out the door at the clock. RINGGG. Class was out.
I went to English class. I could tell that day was NOT going to be a good one. I saw peter. Sigh, my evil hallucination.
I went into the classroom and walked to the back desk. C got it before me. I was upset. That was MY Chair.
I was very emotional, trying new meds.
The only seat left was in the front. NO WAY.
So I started to cry. Fat hot tears dripped down my cheeks.
I raced back to the shower. I curled up in a ball and cried. My English teacher, Mrs D came to find me.
And I got sent to the nurse. Again.
They just could not handle me at that school. I had diagnosis they just didnt know how to deal with.
In the nurses my hands were shaky.
I sat on the bed, knees knocking together.
I had to throw up. SO i did. In the trash can.
Staff were getting annoyed, like i was doing this on purpose!!!
I had to get out of that school. 5 weeks later, i did. Thank U jesus.
I wanted to hide OREO’s in my cheek for later. I was always hungry because of the new meds I was on in the psych ward.
So i stashed.
I went to my room and spat the OREOS in a cup for later, nasty, yes i know. I wasnt totally sane at that point. I put the cup on the window sill.
I saw an ant. I grabbed my shoe with out laces and SMUSHED him.
I smiled widely. I had taken ones life! Why was I beaming proudly…?
I thought of bad people killing others, taking ones life.
I felt horrible now!
I sat on my bed in the psych ward, back on the concrete wall.
I leaned back and hit my head. It hurt. But i deserve to be in pain, thats what Peter always says.
I hit my head again but then stopped. I didnt really want to hurt myself.
I was hungry. SO i ate my spit up OREO.
It was mushy and warm. YUCK.
I was upset. My Dad had just left me at the psych ward. my very first psych ward. I cried and cried. There was a girl sitting on the floor by the nurses station, tattooing herself with a pen. Her arms had words all over cut by a razor. her arms said BURN and DIE. Kinda scary to see! Why werent the staff stopping her??
The nighttime staff was more strict. They didnt even allow us to use pens. only pencils, and you have to check them out.
If you wanted to hurt yourself, its not just the typical razor to cut. If your determined, you will find a way.
I used a piece of broken wood on my bed frame at the psych ward to cut my arms.
At that ward, My Dad brought me 2 magazines. The first thing staff did was take out the staples.
Somebody put a pen on my bed one day and staff found it. I got in trouble but cried that I didnt do it!
They believed me.
I am very good at taking meds. When I was 9, i was at daycare and got my first migraine. I was IN PAIN. At the time, i couldnt swallow pills, so my daycare provider gave me a mushed pill in sugar. It went down well.
When I was 16, I was put on my first medication for mental illness. ONE pill. I could hardly swallow it! It got caught in my throat and tasted NASTY.
13 years later, Now, i am 29. I take 18 pills a day, all in one gulp of water!
Same with shots. When i was little, i had a FEAR of needles. I would get nervous like 2 weeks before my tetanus shot.
Then i got it done. No pain!
Now i have to get blood work once a month to monitor my white blood count. that’s because i am on Clozapine. A pill for schizophrenia. I take 300 mg.
I am running on low on friends. I really dont have much in common with anyone. It makes me sad. So i am going back to having invisible friends. Miley. I have not used her as a friend in awhile. I know i am too old for invisible friends, but:
1: I know they aren’t real
2:I can make them say or do whatever is in my imagination.
Miley is EMILY spelt mixed up.
She is my twin. I can talk to her about everything and anything.
I am not ashamed.
I dont care if I still like Barbie Dolls. I am unique.
I had a dream, during the day time, today.
I have a friend named B. He is 74. He and I have SO much fun together. We go for rides, go out to eat, listen to music, go to OSV, shopping…we have a GREAT TIME.
Today I had a dream that made me very uncomfortable. B molested me.
I have had dreams like that before, they seem SO real. But they are not.
I at first decided not to trust him…but he didnt do anything wrong!
I feel guilty for even having the thought that he would EVER do such a thing. Because its not true, its a dream.
I just see him differently. Sigh. I feel SO bad!!!
How can one forgive someone else for something, they never did!?
I have been out of the psych ward for 4 days. I feel great! AND, i have not seen Cereal in 2 days!
In the psych ward, we had group. We learned what coping skills to use when stressed, anxious or depressed.
My coping skills included: blogging, bathing, walking, playing with my dog, watching a movie, doing makeovers and emptying the dishwasher.
I am trying to learn how to use coping skills instead of going to the ER or Psych ward everytime i have issues.
Wouldn’t it be great if I could get off my meds, totally.
I know its not likely.
But having schizophrenia, you have to have faith. Faith that my psychiatrists, therapists and parents will keep me safe. weather its with love or medication.
I feel safe most of the time…sometimes i fear that the pharmacy will have a bad day and purpusly give me the wrong meds..
I am on heavy meds. Clozapine, my strongest med, for schizophrenia, was upped in the last psych ward to 300 mg.
I call it my miracle drug, i believe i am home not the hopistal, because of Clozapine.