If only they would…

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

schizandgiggles

Walking between the walls

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.

-Schizandgiggles

The pressure death

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

The thing about change

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

The Noise

It’s never really silent and why that doesn’t work for me.


First off let me say I’m sorry for not posting for a while. You see part of this disorder is mood disorder, mine being bipolar type 1 rapid cycling. This means I have manic phases and I have depressive phases and they interchange very quickly from one to another. That doesn’t mean the phases are short, however, my manic phases are usually much shorter than my depressive phases, it just means that basically if I not one then I am probably the other. I don’t really have an in-between or normal phase. Lately, I have been going through a very rough depressive phase and I have not been able to write anything. So I decided to try now to see if it helps me break out of this bottomless sea of depression somehow. So here goes nothing.

   I’ll tell you about the noise. The noises are hallucinations and paranoia mixed for me. Medication helps deal with the major outbursts that make me want to end my life sometimes but it doesn’t stop the backhanded comments or the chatter of a crowded room nor does it stop the paranoia from hearing someone behind a door or making sounds in a quiet room. This is why I say it’s never quiet and when the voices cease the noises fill the silence.

    I’m in a constant state of noise and confusion putting me in an anxiety ridden mental state at all times. Another thing that happens when I have all the noise filling my head is that I forget things. I forget entire conversations and sometimes entire days at a time. I forget things my kids ask about and then I cannot find them temporarily, or my husband will ask me to do something important and I will completely forget and it can mess with his career. As you can see the anxiety is rising in me right now just thinking about it.

     So obviously these things can have a profound affect on a person. Seeing as though I am a parent and a wife, I have duties to uphold and most of the time I feel as though I can’t hack it (more so than normal mothers). I also fear losing the memories of my marriage and my children growing up and them being replaced by false thoughts and bad depressive days. My manic days are causing problems because they have been known to cause me to spend thousands of dollars over the course of my illness thus far, which in return creates financial and marital strain.

    I can say one thing. I will probably never have more than an entry level job, and that’s on the chance I can handle the pressures of a job. I used to want to be something. Make my parents proud. I wanted to start from the bottom and become the best and say hey I did that on my own. Well now it’s not likely for me. Now I just want to not screw up my entire life and live through the worst days. I haven’t worked recently enough to qualify for disability and the last time I tried to get SSI we had too much money to qualify but not enough money to afford assistance for me at home. We are military and move around quite a bit so we aren’t really anywhere long enough for my paranoia to allow anyone new into my home anyways. 

So that’s the noise, voices saying I should go kill myself or simply pointing out how screwed up of a parent I am and how my kids will suffer because of me, or the guy on the other side of the door speaking but not loudly enough to hear what he’s saying, or to the doors slamming in my home but no one is awake except me, or simply the mumble of a crowed office or lounge where everyone’s speaking but no one really says a word, just noise The are the some of things schizoaffective disorder does to me. That’s just the tip of the illness iceburg.

 

-Schiz and Giggle

schizandgiggles.com@gmail.com

The Choice To Share

I lack patience more often than not, but dealing with my disorder can’t be one of those times.

Most of the time I get asked why do I share so openly about my disorder. To answer that I simply say I need a reminders that my disorder is real. Also, I hope someone can see my ups and downs and it helps them to see that it’s not a life-ending sentence they’ve been handed. While difficult to deal with on a daily basis, I have found the right treatment plan, effective coping skills, strong faith, and the will to be my best possible self all diminish the worst aspects of what I go through.

I really try to remember the bible verse above James 1:3. When my faith is being tested, whether by hallucinations, delusions, paranoia or some other dilemma, I must wait for God to decide it’s time for it to pass, and I must pray for his help to get me through the episode. I say this verse because we often forget that we are not on our time frame but the plan that is already in motion is on God’s schedule, and therefore we must be patient.

You see I believe we all have a choice. Either we can sit around alone with our problems, or we can write, talk, video blog or whatever and possibly affect someone by saying what they might not be able too. We can give our problems a voice and show people they are not alone or the only one feeling a certain way. If we do this we can help slow down the suicide rate and fully affect real CHANGE! Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

All it takes is for people to sit around their electronics…..where we know they already are and just vent and show gratitude for the good things they have already. Reach out to a mental health forum if only to show sympathy and support. Heck pick a new group every week and spread the love, because we all know the world desperately needs more love and support in it.

This is the reason I choose to share my issue so openly because maybe, just maybe someone will choose not to become impatient with God’s plan and maybe they won’t proceed with their own plan to take their own life. It’s my choice and no one can stop me from trying.

Respectfully,

Schiz and Giggles

What Helps Me?

A long time without knowing

Acceptance and Patience.


I was formally diagnosed with Schizoaffective Disorder in March of 2011. However that is not when things started to get better. For starters, my schizoaffective disorder is essentially a mix of schizophrenic symptoms and bipolar symptoms. In my case it was paranoia and delusions, mixed with bipolar depression and manic symptoms that were rapid cycling. Meaning my mood went from crying over everything to feeling like I could be the President of the United States and solve the world’s problems all within a period of a week to a month. The paranoia and delusions however would last for months to a year or more.

In 2011 I was so delusional I didn’t believe my diagnosis was real. I believed that I had discovered some hidden information and that my doctor and my husband were just trying to convince me it wasn’t real in order to keep the secrets hidden. I refused to accept that I was schizoaffective. So my condition while seemingly began to improve was actually getting worse because I wasn’t receiving treatment. What happened was that I had snapped out of one delusion and my symptoms became dormant, but that just convinced me I didn’t have a problem. The next time it would appear was a lot worse, voices, hallucinations, delusions. At that time I even believed I was talking directly to God himself via my email inbox and junk mail folders on the computer. I believed the headers and file names were in a specific order and the pattern was the message from God.

I heard voices warning me about terrible things that were going to happen what I should do to escape these terrible events. At one point I even left the house believing the pizza delivery guy was coming to kill me or kidnap me and take me somewhere they could cut my head open and experiment on my brain. Then my mother came to visit. As we were driving down the road back to the house from the airport I began to tell her about the emails being from God and the Pizza guy trying to kill or kidnap me and I remember the look on her face being very confused. No matter how much she tried not to look shocked or sad I could tell what I was saying was very off the wall and probably not very possible and I knew what the doctors had said in 2011 was exactly what I was going through at that point. There was no more denying the diagnosis anymore.

What ended up helping me the most was being able to hear myself say what was happening and have understanding however untrue the understanding was from my loved ones. While they didn’t truly understand me because what I was saying was, forgive me for lack of a better word crazy, it was real. They did their best to just listen and show compassion when I felt trapped and scared. Scared to sound crazy, and trapped by my delusions but not judged by the ones who meant the most to me was the true way I was able to begin the healing process. I didn’t accept my diagnosis because I was afraid I would lose my ability as a person to have a perspective on anything. Or that I would lose my children or my husband because of my diagnosis. Those things still scare me to death but they are things I have accepted as possible outcomes should I chose to forget what cards I have been dealt and not continue my treatment. Those are the things that helped me the most.

The Delusions.

We must not go it alone.

       I woke up and thought today’s a good day, only to find out it was just the start of a week long delusion. I received an email from my healthcare provider and I of course took to the website to check out what I was getting in regards to healthcare for the money we pay to have insurance. Once I see the odd company’s name listed with no provider shown I began to question things. I looked up the company and figured out what they do but somewhere in my reading, my schizoaffective kicked in and I was down the rabbit hole.

        Before I realized what was happening my paranoia made it’s presence know and by the end of the day I was convinced people were studying me and companies were tampering with my medication. I didn’t know what to do. I knew everyone would think I was crazy if I said anything, so I didn’t say anything. However hiding a delusion and constant paranoia is more difficult that it looks, and I was beginning to show in everything I did. That’s when I told my husband what my problem was and listened to how crazy the idea sounded. He was super supportive and understanding, reminding me that it was the schizoaffective talking and how things will get better if I just keep reminding myself of that.

        I took nearly a week and I still don’t totally disbelieve my scenario to be untrue, but I believe it enough to get through today without it tearing me down.  Sometimes I just have to remind myself in the grand scheme of things, I am just not that important, and I have nothing these companies need that they can’t get on their own using a paid research participants. It’s not a solution to my symptoms but it surely does alleviate some of the residual exhaustion the symptoms produce. For me that’s better than nothing.

-Schiz & Giggles

Nowhere, to start…

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Thanks for stopping by to check out my blog!

“Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter.”— Izaak Walton

      Below are some pictures of me to show you a glimpse of what my husband likes to call,  “50 shades of crazy.” It’s also a way for you to see the many faces I wear. Hope you find them entertaining or at least educational. 😬😂

I will be adding more pictures as I add to my blog posts.