I was passing by a hospital — a psychiatric hospital, as a matter of fact. I saw the adult inpatient building, and I felt rather uncomfortable. What really triggered some negative feelings is that I saw people in there. I saw a male, sitting there by the window. He had short brown hair, and he was rather pale. He looked bored in there.
And then I thought, “What if that becomes me?”
I’m terrified of possibly going into the mental ward. I wouldn’t know what to do. I’d probably be labeled as a threat to myself, maybe others as well. I wouldn’t have any friends there, and I’d be all alone. I’d probably stop eating or act out in ways to see if people did care about me. I’m not the best person to hang around when I’m psychotic. I’d do risky things that I normally wouldn’t do — smoke, drink, party, find some random guy to have sex with — though I couldn’t do them when living with family. (I guess my family is good for something, huh?)
Needless to say, I almost cried at that moment. My reality has changed, and I don’t like it. I pushed so hard for this diagnosis, and I just really want it taken away. It’s not fun. I’m so scared that things will happen because of a delusion or a hallucination. What if I hurt my boyfriend because I think he’s the evil hallucination? What if Tristan tells me to cut too deep and I need stitches and some time in a mental hospital? I’m just beyond scared right now, and the diagnosis of schizophrenia is not helping.
I think I’ll sit back and just watch a whole bunch of YouTube videos that might make me laugh. I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel like being happy today.