I’m going through a faze right now where my youngest sees my illness and has now decided that she has multiple personality disorder. She acts like these other entity’s are in control of her and of course they are all mischievous or not good personalities and they don’t listen to me either. She’s mimicking my disorder so she has an excuse to misbehave but she has convinced herself that it’s real even though it is very obviously all an act. I’m afraid that I’m a bad influence on her behavior and that if she believes wholeheartedly that she really has multiple personality disorder then she will not allow anyone else’s opinion be it professional or not to convince her that she is ok. All of this is my fault. If she wasn’t exposed to my illness she would not be acting like this. I don’t know what to do except get out of her life so she stops imitating me and maybe she will get better without me around influencing her actions. I’m so lost and so sad that this is what I have done to her just by being sick.
I’m having delusions and anxiety and unable to sleep or accomplish anything for the past week . Even worse II have started to take my meds at night again because I cannot shut my brain down and my anxiety is just out of control. I’m writing this to put the spotlight on my bad behavior ( the meds) so that I hold my self accountable and stop doing what I’m am doing and straighten my head and heart back out. I need to get back the process and success I had started to form so maybe one day I can experience happiness and enjoy my time with my family again before I miss my chance. Wish me luck
Ect actually works great you should try it.
I wanna cuss and scream and let these feelings out, but they are rooted in so deeply that it keeps me filled with doubt.
I’m nowhere close to normal but you try to make it so with wishful selfish feelings that you force on me to grow.
I’m never going to be nor was I ever in the past this blissful little image that you try to make me grasp.
I was broken in the beginning the middle and the end and the pieces are to small for you to build what you pretend.
That’s just not what I was built for not for ribbons pearls and bows . No I was built for suffering life’s painful blistering blows.
I serve a single purpose to feel for those who bleed and to show them how survival is a possibility.
While my life is not glamorous and at times I wished for its end, I think of those more fragile and I begin to play pretend
I pretend it’s not that bad or that I am happy deep inside but sometimes the feelings are just more than I can hide.
So if everyone could forget about their expectations for my life and just be thankful I am still standing here despite my pain and strife
Because I push myself to try to be exactly what you want but it’s just not going to happen so I have to drop that front.
It’s those expectations that cut into my core each time I fail to reach them I don’t want to live anymore
They act as if they are nails being driven into my soul a sacrifice I’ll one day make to finally fill the hole.
Never will I disappoint or cause another love more shame, for when you have nothing to left to lose everyone else has much to gain.
Sorry so dark but some days are just dark
I am just going to write you a little poetry this time around. Here I go.
Everything looks familiar, like I have been here before. Yet I’ve been walking on this journey now but I still can’t find a door.
Surrounded by these walls and not a single day goes by, where I haven’t fallen to my knees to just break down and cry.
I scratch and kick the cement in search of a hidden passage way but to my own detriment I am stuck and have to stay.
Each day I awake and find I’m still inside this place, my mind begins to process the fear shown on my face.
It knows with each passing day that death is nearby and my mind begins to transmit to me that I am probably gonna die
Solutions to escape take a backseat to panic pain and defeat and the only thing left for me to do is welcome death’s sweet relief.
Unable to find a reason why I should bother looking anymore I close my eyes and beg for death to come sweep me off the floor.
And just as death comes close to taking me away I open up my eyes to find it’s another day.
No matter how much I beg for someone to set me free the only way out of here is to let go of what you see.
Fears are cement bricks and when they surround you they form a grave. If you choose to let them win there’s no way you can be saved.
But if you choose to let go of fear and allow yourself to feel then the next time you open up your eyes you’ll see it wasn’t real.
Only then can you escape from the prison in your mind and only then will you see the doors you’re meant to find.
Hope y’all enjoyed this, I love writing poetry it challenges me to feel my words in ways I don’t normally.
The new way of committing suicide I believe is to keep allowing life to add pressure when you know that you can’t handle anything else at the time. We have to prioritize our own state of wellbeing before we can continue to add issues and stress to our already overwhelmed bodies and minds.
Now I know things like to happen all at once but we have to respect the fact that relapse or worse is bound to happen if we don’t put some stuff down and deal only with what is absolutely essential. And sometimes that means going back into the hospital in order to just make it all stop and sort through the really important tasks until you have a clear view of things. We know the voices never really give good advice but sometimes it just seems like everything they are saying holds some merit in a weird sort of way.
So why is it so hard to ask for help? For me it was my daughter’s 10th birthday and her crying because she didn’t want mommy to go away. I didn’t go to the hospital. I should have gone nothing has really changed since last Wednesday night. I’m still under immense pressure between work home life, the kids and my husband there’s nothing I can just put to the side without backlash or major issues arising from doing so.
I don’t really know what I need to do now, but maybe I’ll figure it out before it actually kills me (mentally, emotionally, and otherwise). I am still entertaining the hospital avenue but I really hope something gives so that I don’t have to. I would like to think that if it’s truly the right place for me to survive then I’ll know and go without hesitation but if I fall into another delusions I might not be able to see the dire situation I’m in.
If you have a friend who’s always in the pressure cooker and seems a bit depressed or overwhelmed be sure to tell them that there is help for them all the time and you’d be happy to lend an ear if they need one.
Holding on to what I’ve got. Even if it kills me,
Schiz & Giggles
When I think about my life consistency is not a word I would ever use. However one word that is consistent in my life is change. I am consistently going through change and I don’t do change well. I am truly sorry to everyone internet and physical folks for anything I post over the next few months. I am about to go through some life altering moments that deal with my mental physical emotional and professional life and I don’t feel very confident in how things are going to play out and how I will respond to them.
I don’t know if I will be back to post soon but keep your eyes peeled and I’ll fill you in when Life stops trying to come crashing down all around me
Thanks for checking in!
Schiz and Giggles