Im feeling really sad tonight. I am not sure why. All i think about today, is death, My birthday is in 6 days and thats 6 days closer to death.
It just seems so unreal. One day i wont be alive. I could die in so many possible ways.
i could be in a fire, car accident, murdered, suicide, fall down a well, earthquake, tornado, I could slice my wrists, poison myself, lay in the middle of the road, starve myself, OD…
Its scary to think, i could be dead tomorrow!
I remember in elementary school, some girls started a group i wasnt apart of. They made up words to annoy me and wouldnt say what they meant.
Ex: “Fluffenuntter!” They would shout at me. I tried to ignore them, secretly wishing i could join in.
In high school, there were two upperclassmen in the bathroom. I was touching up my makeup and they called me crusty face. It hurt my feelings.
Also, there was a rumor going around that i was on drugs. I did not appreciate C saying i was half baked.
I was full of energy, that dont mean i am on drugs!!
I hate making my parents cry. Especially my Dad. I didnt know he was so emotional when it comes to my mental health. I see him cry when he has to leave me at the psych wards. It breaks my heart.
When i was restrained in teh ER, Dad had tears in his eyes. I . felt. so . BAD.
I am hurting my loved ones when i cut or hear voices and it kills me.
I wish I could make my parents happy all the time, but its not possible.
I feel ashamed.
When i am in the psych ward, my parents visited me everyday. Even in snow storms, they managed to come, every night.
I feel loved. I feel guilty about that. Do i deserve their love?
When i was little, about 3rd and 4th grade, i had very bad anxiety. I left school early often. I got a lot of blood work done, but it showed nothing.
I passed out in 2nd grade and got more bloodwork.
They couldnt find anything, but my anxiety followed me through out my teen and adult years.
Sometimes, anxiety can be worse then schizophrenia.
Panic attacks are the worst.
When I was about 17, I gave a hair sample, a urine sample and more bloodwork.
Sometime was wrong, but we just couldnt figure it out.
Id say i am doing pretty good though, because i learned a lot of coping skills from therapy, school and psych wards.
i have vivid memories of my first time at a psych ward. I remember driving there excited. I thought i was going to be in a bed all day, eating jello and watching TV. I remember the fear i had walking into the actual ward, full of scary teenagers. I was so frightened and knew this was not going to be the experience i had thought it would be.
I was wearing a pair of faded jeans, tank top and sweatshirt with strings. As soon as i was in the ward, they had to cut the strings off my favorite sweatshirt for safety reasons.
I remember being strip searched and being totally humiliated.
I remember getting assigned my room. It was no bigger then a closet. The mattress springs hurt my back.
I remember Dad visiting me and bringing magazines. The staff had to take the staples out. again, safety reasons.
I remember losing my retainer in the trash and being very upset about it.
I remember throwing up meals with A. Hiding cups of vomit under the bed.
It was a rough week, one i will never forget.
Each time i was locked up, was different, yet the same.
My family and i used to volunteer at a soup kitchen for homeless children. The center we feed them at is in the city. A bad area, a dangerous area. I made friends with a little girl named Savannah. She was homeless. She showed me the room they have choir practice in.
I sat in a pew and listened to them sing.
The instructor, kept getting distracted by two little boys, so she locked them out. I felt funny and a little nervous. After a few songs, i excused myself out.
I found my dad running around frantically.
“Where were you!!?” He demanded. I told him.
“Dont ever do that again, i was so worried! This is a rough neighborhood.” Dad gave me a hug.
But what about Savannah, she has to live in this neighborhood full of violence and drugs. I felt so blessed to have a home, in a safe town.
I keep having weird dreams that wake me up around 2;00 am. The other night, i woke up at 2:00 am and packed my bags for the hopistal.
I had flashbacks about being in the psych ward. I was half asleep. I packed my bags and went back to bed.
My meds had kicked in by then, and they make me hallucinate. Which is ironic because the meds are to help me NOT hallucinate.
My hands arent’s mine when i hallucinate. I feel really tall and dizzy. The floor has bubbles and the walls close in on me.
I Cried and cried.
when i cry a lot, i get a headache. i had a bad one. I felt scared. I am usually asleep when the meds kick in.
experiencing hallucinations of any kind, are SUPER scary!!