Going Deeper

Somewhere along the way in my quest for happiness I found insanity. It didn’t take long, maybe a couple of years. Apparently I’m bipolar with some sort of schizo effective disorder or something. I don’t know exactly. The bipolar is old news, the schizophrenic part is new.

My brain goes to weird places. Sometimes I know things before they happen, months in advance…sometimes I’m completely delusional and my brain is making thinks up at lightning speed. And I can’t ever tell what’s what. The predictive part is just me making guesses like Sherlock Holmes or some shit. If this happens, this will happen etc. I’ve gotten good at it. People are generally… predictable. There are variations, I’m not magical. Plus, with the delusions, I don’t ever speak on it except to myself. It’s easier that way. I’m crazy, no reason to add further crazy factor by telling people something like that. They’ll think I’m claiming to be some fortune teller or something. It’s not like that. I wish. Hell.

They’ve been talking about putting me on disability. Yeah, it’s that bad. When I’m normal, I’m normal…and it’s deceiving. The problem is that my body is so sensitive…a night of no sleep or being dehydrated can turn me into something else. It’s like I’m watching my body react while the sane part of me is… well, confused. When I’m like that everything looks scary, I see things differently and nothing feels right. I’m in fight or flight and any little thing sends me off the edge. I hate it. I’m basically a child relearning coping mechanisms but my body doesn’t care what I know. It doesn’t matter how many psychology classes I’ve taken, how many youtube motivational anythings, Ted talks… it’s like if I do something wrong in the day, or if something too traumatic, or even just too many bad things happen in a day…suddenly my body becomes…purely reactionary and my mind is left screaming to run and come back later. I try to do that, but people don’t always let you just leave. People want to talk. I can’t do that all the time. It makes it worse. I have to come talk after I go calm down. Maybe take a nap….I’m serious, I feel like a 5 year old or something. It’s humiliating. It’s exhausting.

I lost the vast majority of my friends during my last manic state. I was trying to find out who someone was. One of my group of friends has had a stalker for years, and I decided to make a fake profile mocking myself and trying to find them. Well, I got a lot of people running to me. lol Anyway, it was a bad time, I went manic (unrelated to that, I wasn’t stressed about that) and had to go to the hospital. By then I was out of it and when I came back I lost my cool and just deleted all my stuff and started new. Told some past frenemies I was done with them…so I guess this disorder gives me sudden balls. I don’t like how I went about it though. I went to church and they told me if I was going to throw a hissy fit to not come in, because they know me on facebook and I’m a little bit too….honest. So yeah. I just started going there, was an atheist until a year ago, and the church I go to probably thinks I’m going to hell. lol My family is full of atheists and they’ve done their fair share of mocking me… including some friends. It doesn’t matter what you believe, if it’s different from someone else’s, or if you change your mind- my people will make it uncomfortable. You’re not allowed to talk about it anywhere, except in private.

I don’t know what I believe, except that Love is what they say God is. God is love. Christ stood for love. Yet…these Christians literally said they had no empathy or merciful feelings towards others. They talked about their Christ family, failing to realize…. we’re all basically family. We’re family, disconnected….and it’s just depressing to me. People used to travel. They’d walk long distances for the experience, for the spiritual…. you stop looking at the clock and the time and you FEEL. You do more than just…

It feels like we’re in dog houses, fences up everywhere. I used to play outside, now I’m not allowed to go anywhere unless it’s specifically made for the public. I can’t play in my sister’s backyard where my grandparent’s used to live. I can’t decorate my yard without people destroying my stuff. I can’t destroy my own stuff in anger without someone putting a trash bag in my yard as a sign to clean up because it looks bad. I can’t leave things out without it being stolen. I can’t listen to music in the morning in my car even though people mow their lawns early. I can’t leave gifts or easter eggs around town without being called an easter witch. My neighborhood thinks I’m racist and the antichrist because I sang a rap song while manic and said the n word and had to scream about how sorry I was after. Oh, believe me, the town got me back for it. lol The neighborhood, I mean. I won’t go into that. I think they realized I’m just nuts when they weren’t met with rage back at them at their…..harassment. Instead they were met with regret, shame, and disappointment. They literally met me at the hospital I went to to mock me before they stopped. This is how I realized what was going on, I kept telling myself my delusions were getting worse and realized this time my big mouth brought attention to me.. Yep. I like black people more than whites generally…no black man has hit me. Hell, it was black women screwing with me, but the guys might have too. Idk. It doesn’t matter, I’m glad they feel better. Sadly, I hate myself more than they ever could, and I mostly met them with confused glances and left. I’m schizophrenic, not hateful. I swear, sometimes I think I have tourettes but I don’t.

I hit myself compulsively. Like..punches. I say compulsively, it’s when I’m angry. It’s as though my body reactions have no filter…I do this weird…twitchy thing sometimes. It’s uncontrollable. Basically, I’m messed up. I used to love people.. wanted to do something to change the world.. then my mind broke down and everything thinks I’m a red neck piece of shit and honestly, that’s how I feel now. I hate how much I curse, but it’s a huge habit and when I’m mad, it just… I have to practice not cursing while normal so that it doesn’t come out when I’m mad. Isn’t that sad? I have to train myself. I did before, but when my.. wires got crossed or whatever cute pun you want to use- it all went away. My boyfriend at the time had to help me shower,  I couldn’t braid my hair. My first episode was a week. I didn’t eat or sleep and my mind just made up a million stories a minute. By the end, from lack of sleep, it became nightmarish.

I want to live somewhere else. I’m sorry for all the shouting, sorry for the things I do when I’m still me, but … not? I don’t know, it’s like amplified, hyper-drive, hyper-vigilant cussing dog face. I don’t like myself on a normal day, but when I’m like that… But it’s like there’s horror music in the background and my body is looking for the killer, and he’s not there. It feels like.. the worst possible nightmare during the day.

When I was young I couldn’t tell the difference between dreams and reality, and honestly I can’t lately either… I’ve gotten to where I’m always a little curious if my brain is making something up, or if it’s real. Did this happen, or not? Are they gas lighting me, or is my brain tricking me again? Can I sing this song, or is this reality? Am I being loud, or am I whispering?

Are they ignoring me, or just not noticing me? Are they staring, glaring, or just passing by? Does everyone hate me, or is it just … me? Is any of this real, or am I still sleeping?

I had a dream once that seemed to last forever. In it, it was like a puzzle and many people were stuck. It was like tag..bad tag. There was a sort of curse, and if someone with it touched you, you couldn’t leave the dream and you became part of the routine. There was one exit, and it changed locations every time someone escaped. Only one at a time..You learn all of this through trial, it’s not a video game. I learned by observation, tried to help others and lost many. People connect in terrifying situations. After going through this… jigsaw of a situation.. I lost count, it seemed to last forever and it’s been years since this dream. Anyway, I learned the ways of the place and tried to save new comers because only a few old ones were left. And by the time people were there as long as me, they were almost monsters themselves. Shoving people into the arms of a cursed one and stealing the exit from them. Rules don’t apply when desperation sets in. Every man for himself. I ended up alone because I knew they’d get me killed and clearly they don’t need me. (Keep in mind, I didn’t know I was dreaming, I wasn’t lucid)

I remember one of the weirdest parts of the dream was when someone gets out everything gets set back to start. Newly cursed people always appear where they got touched, but after a certain amount of time they could move again. During that stage of them being frozen and on pause, you could talk to them if you were brave enough and had an out before they basically became zombies. They spoke sort of like a possessed animal. Sadly, I don’t remember what the person said, their gender, or anything except that the time I got to talk to one..the setting was in a room with a pool. Like at a gym or something, but not. The layout of the area was like a hospital, with many side rooms set up like cubes. It was like a huge mix of horror movies put together on steroids.

The dream seemed to last the entirety of the time I slept. I think it’s the only time I’ve remembered so much information. I don’t anymore… I wish I wrote it down then, but when I woke up.. I’m getting ahead of myself.

I met an old man, balding. I only remember him at this point. He was new, and I explained things to him because I was tired and wasn’t going to be with him to help. I did take weird naps during my dream. More like a stoned meditation. It was weird. I tried. lol Anyway, he decided to stick with me. I don’t remember why or how long. All I remember is that in the end, he pushed me through an exit after seeing me do the same for a frail, scared girl. I yelled at him, when he did. And then I woke up.

Sometimes I’m still mad at him. The man who probably isn’t real… My brain plays games with itself, and sometimes I wonder if he hadn’t done that, if I would have died in my sleep. It felt so real, but… more. It felt.. Anyway. I’m mad at a character my brain made up, because I wasn’t done, and I can’t go back to that dream. So I guess I’m mad at myself again.

I taught myself how to lucid dream. It’s not as fun after a while. It’s like playing the sims with all the cheats. I like the surprises in dreams, well.. sometimes. I like it when I’m more than what I am now. When I’m not scared of everything. When I believe I can change something. When I stand up for myself and others.

I’ve been so angry in my dreams lately, fighting with every character that comes along. No one listens. No one helps. Everyone laughs.

When I was in the mental hospital other crazy people are on the same wave length. My roommate joined my delusions, we both fed into each other. It was.. interesting, magical, scary. She knew something was wrong with me before I said anything, while we were in bed. When I opened my eyes she spoke angrily, when I closed them she whispered and I went back and forth testing it and almost lost my shit. Another dream?? I kept my eyes closed and she came to me and asked me how she could help me, she had to save me. I can’t remember what I said, we were crying. One of the workers came in and asked me what was wrong and I said “when my eyes are open, all I see are lies. I can’t open my eyes, I can’t open my eyes.” She had to lead me to the bathroom and I held onto her arm. She called me “Sissy”, name not insult..

There are many more hospital stories, just as weird. More about my week long delusions that stick with me. They are pervasive. They feel so real.. it’s hard to escape. Without my medicine, without my mother…without… I wouldn’t be able to exist around sane people. Only the insane know. Only the insane understand.. it’s like a veil is pierced and it’s another language, another aura, another… something. It’s a whole other world. Not everyone, insanity comes in different shades. But if you’re on the same color stream of that rainbow as someone next to you, you look at each other and know.

I look at healthy, sane people, and I know.. I’m not one of them anymore. And I’m just as scared of them as I am of myself. Normal people still kill each other. I’ve only ever slapped one person and cat scratched another while completely manic. Someone grabbed me from behind once and I reflexively swung my head back and knocked him good…but I would never kill. Sane people kill just because sometimes… I think the sane are insane too, just in a different way. I think emotions can make anything look crazy, and it really depends on how much you feel and if you empathize whether you can understand or not.  If you’re not feeling it, it’s crazy. If you have felt it or experienced before, it’s normal. How do things become normal? More people experience it and talk about it.

I think it’s insane to hang people, to burn them, to shoot them. I think everyone has moments of insanity, but no one wants to pick up that piece of glass. We’re all normal here…aren’t we?

Humans. We’re animals, mammals. We make milk for our babies if we don’t want to use the powdered stuff. We are higher level animals. Godlike, creators in our own right. All that power makes us.. whatever this is. We destroy the weak, weed them out and act like we root for underdogs. Underdogs get bullied and become something else. Heroes become cocky. Even the best of the best is put on display like… we’re a zoo on tv, we change channels to switch cages.

Which creature do we watch today?

Which chapter am I on today?

Is this the exit?