when i was younger, i didnt deal much with anger. I was a happy child. But one Day, my Dad was at work and i was alone with my step mother, my brothers mom. She was very mean to me.
I got so angry with her that i stabbed a stuffed Dog she won me at a fare. I used some scissors and slashed the dog into pieces. I just wanted my DAd to come home and save me.
I hid the dog under my bed and lay in bed to think.
that was the first night, that i explored cutting my arms. I was young but i am not exactly sure how young i was, maybe 12?
i didnt really cut, i just used a dried up pen to draw scratches on my arms. I played tic tac toe against myself.
I did that a lot, i had a few friends that only i could see, that I would do stuff with
I was friends with an author of a book i read.
I printed out her picture on line and set it on my bedside table.
I would talk to Susan as if she were alive sitting there.
I was confused why she wouldnt answer.
SHe seemed SO real!!
i fell asleep that night and woke up that day not knowing later that day, i would be put on my very first medication.
I sat in the time out room at school. The room you go to when you are having a hard time. Its a therapeutic school.
I felt like cutting but i didnt have my trusty nail scissors. So i used a piece of paper. Believe it or not, the paper can be sharp!
SO i cut my wrists. soon i had 8 tiny little paper cuts. They stung. I pulled my sleeves down and threw out the evidence.
I sat on the hard cold floor and texted my Dad. Cell phones cant be on during school hours, so i had to be sneaky.
Dad came for lunch that day.
the two years i was enrolled in that school were the toughest two years of my life.
a new diagnosis, new school, new friends and first visits to psych wards.
my Dad or my social worker would bring me out to lunch probably 2 times a week. i couldnt make a full day of school, so i left early for awhile.
Last night was the first night i heard bad voices in quite awhile. I just hope it wont continue because i dont want to change my meds again.
I was in the porch sitting on the recliner. I looked out at the spirits in the sky and Jack told me I was going to die that night.
I got nervous, but i didnt want to worry my parents.
SO i went to bed early, but couldnt fall asleep “Will i really die tonight?” i asked myself. I got myself so worked up that i had to take an anxiety pill.
i woke up several times and looked at the clock every now and then.
Finally i fell asleep.
I woke up at 7:00 and had to smile, i made it! I am alive!! I was SO happy that i clapped my hands excitedly.
Beat that Jack! I am going to live a LONG HAPPY HEALTHY LIFE!!!!
I found an old journal from when i was 16. The same year i was diagnosed with schizophrenia. It was so hard to read, i was in so much pain!
I wrote i was in Waltham Behavioral Psych Ward and I was scared, i just wanted to go home.
“I got in trouble today for cutting. They locked me up in a room as a punishment, but that made it worse”
“Jillian is my roommate and she never bathes, the room stinks”
“Ella gives me M&Ms every night to go with my pills, it makes me happy”
“I miss my family, SO much! I JUST WANNA GO HOME!”
The journal went on with the meds i was on and pictures i drew. They were not happy pictures, they were needles in the eye and knifes in throats.
I have come such a far way and i plan on never being admitted, ever, again! xo ❤
Sometimes my brain scares me. If it is capable of creating people in my head or whatever, what else is it capable of.
I tell my hand to move, but it doesnt. Then my brain gets into a fight, against itself.
“Close your hands, make a fist!” “DONT close your hands, DONT make a fist”
My brain gets me in the middle and i am not sure who to answer!
Do i agree with Michelle, or Jack, even though he can be mean, he gets me and makes sense.
There are way too many people in my head and i am starting to hate it.
I hate having schizophrenia. Its the worst thing i deal with on a daily basis.
I lay in the back of the ambulance off to the ER. My Mom and Dad were not with me and i was scared!
I cant remember everything of that night, i may have blacked out, not sure. But, i do remember being strapped down the the stretcher.
I was hallucinating like crazy. I saw dead people in the overhead lights.
I heard a man named Sam screaming at me. I rocked back and forth trying to loosen the straps.
when the EMT went to adjust the belts, i punched him.
“Dont hit me” he said.
I couldnt help it.
Some how, 30 minutes later, i was now in the restraint chair in the ER. I dont remember how i got from the ambulance to the restraint chair. I was too out of it.
I sat there struggling to get free for a LONG time. They finally gave me the shot and i slumped over. i was too drugged.
They moved me into a bed and the nice nurse gave me a warm, heated blanket. All the sudden i saw my DAd and Step DAd. i dont know how long they had been there.
i started to cry. i felt bad and selfish.
I was humiliated.
It was a terrible day.
The clock tics, “tic, tock, tic tock” The faucet drips, “Drip drop, drip, drop” The fan whirs and the AC moans.
I lay in bed, it was 3:03 am and i couldn’t sleep. too much noise, even in my head. I tossed, i turned.
Everything was too loud, i covered my ears with my hands.
“Big blue bus!!” I said 23 times, trying to stop the noises.
I uncovered my ears. It didnt work, the noises got louder and louder.
“BIG BLUE BUS!” I shouted over the noise.
I sat up grabbed my trusty nail scissors and started to slice my belly. As the blood came to surface, the sounds and noises started to calm down!
I threw the scissors across the room, i felt terrible. i had promised myself i would never cut again!!
Now i was bleeding.
I started to cry. i felt confused!
So i grabbed my mug and ran my fingers over the textures. In no time i felt gooder!
I fell asleep and everything was okay.