An Important Announcement

Hello, guys, so I started a new blog.

I know I have a couple already, but the new blog is going to replace this one.  I’m too fed up with this blog, and this one that is going to replace this blog will be more positive.  I made up my mind.  I want to recover, and I’m not going to do it by sulking about things.  I’m going to post about other mental disorders as well, such as depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, and if I can find out more about the illnesses, eating disorders.  That way, I can benefit from the blog and so can other people.

You can find it here:

Thank you for following me on this blog, and this was nice while it lasted.


I hate my impulses.
They make me fat.
They make me regret things.

My impulses are like sins.
You want to stop doing it,
But it’s all you know and you keep going.

My impulses hurt me.
They tell me to bleed,
And they tell me to eat.

And I scream out
Where is my magic pill
that keeps me from being ill?

No one responds,
So I sit here with these damned impulses.

Random Thoughts.

I saw Demi Lovato on TV this morning.  She’s launching a new program, though the name escapes me.  I think of her as like this really big person in Hollywood who is fighting to keep me alive and noticed within the media, if that makes sense.  She’s an inspiration to me, and I kind of have this small crush on her.  She’s really nice, or so I hear.

I’m stronger than I knew I was.  I’ve been suicidal on and off, but I’ve been thinking about the boyfriend who would suffer terribly if I committed suicide.  That always seems to snap me out of the pain I’m going through.  I should be in an asylum at this point, but I’m used to handling things on my own.  Besides, I joined this thing called the Buddy Project, and it’s on Twitter.

It’s about having a support system for those who are self-harming, depressed, or something else along those lines.  So, I joined it, and by luck, I found someone else that has bipolar disorder.  She’s really nice, and I’m very happy that we were paired up together.  I think this going to help me even more.

I hate my family. 

My mom said I wasn’t psychotic today, and I don’t need lithium. If she paid attention, she would know I have schizophrenia. She would know that last summer, I had a psychotic break. Because of her alone, I just want to run away and not exist anymore. 

And then there’s my unmedicated brother who is high on the autism spectrum. He treats me like dirt and like I don’t matter. Maybe I don’t fucking matter. That’s what I’m starting to think. 

My aunt is horrible. She’s prejudice and against LGBT people. 

My family is making me want to die. But I’m not going to because of my boyfriend. He is literally the only reason I’m living  right now. He’s the only one that makes life worth living. 

Learning to not freak out.

Whenever I freak out about something, I go and research what I’m freaking out about.  It’s a problem.  I don’t know how to stop freaking out.  Maybe I should just try relaxing.  But I’m borderline panic attack right now with thinking about my meds and that there’s no other options…

I don’t know what’s going on with me. Why am I suddenly spazzing out?

Since at first I didn’t succeed….

I’m trying, trying again.

My mom seriously doesn’t want me on lithium, and that’s alright with me. Why is it suddenly alright with me? I have a plan B up my sleeve, and it may make everything a lot better.  So here’s plan B:

I am alright with my manic episodes.  I’m spending money, but after a while, the buying thing loses its interest.  I’m not buying meaningless things either.  These are for the hobbies such as comic books, trading cards… So what I’m proposing to my psychiatrist is to be put on an antidepressant along with abilify.  Why is that?  Because I get suicidal at times.  I can handle my mania, I’d be able to handle my depression.  Happy mom, happy Kayden.  It’d all balance out in my mind.

Now, I think that would be alright.  I’d have to hear my psychiatrist out, but I think it’d be the best because my mom still believes in her little mind that I have depression and anxiety, and it’s not schizoaffective or bipolar disorder or whatever. Let’s play my mom’s game, and when I move in a couple of years, I will be able to finally try lithium, unless this plan goes better than I thought it will.  That’s always a possibility.  I have no issue with that.

Let’s just see what his thoughts are on this.

What my mom thinks-

Oh, come on, you didn’t let me finish.  It’s not about the meds.  I have a backup plan when it comes to that. It’ll be a little more… Unconventional, but it’ll be fine.  Anyways, you guys know that I’m transgender, and I have not come out to my family or my boyfriend.  My boyfriend would be supportive in everything, even if I wanted to transition. My mom, she wasn’t into transgender people and people who were gay/lesbian/bisexual/whatever…  She’s unknowingly an asexual, but that’s for another blog post.

Anyways, there’s this Soap Opera, and there’s a transgender female on there.  You got to see her struggle to talk to the man she loves about this, and people didn’t accept her.  The owner of a large tabloid company ran these stories attacking her about being transgender, and it may have destroyed her relationship with this loving man who accepts her for who she is.

Meanwhile, my mom’s watching this, and she goes, “That’s sad. This is making me want to cry.  I hope he accepts her.”  Then I pointed out that people go through this every day.  “People get kicked out of their homes.  They get disowned.  They even get killed.”  So my mom says, “I’d never do that to my child.”  So I say a silent “victory” in that moment, and so, I think she’d accept me if I came out of the closet.

Though, I still like wearing makeup and skirts, and she’d probably say, “But you aren’t transgender” for that reason.  But, I talked to someone else that was transgender last year, and he said that “Men can wear skirts and makeup.  You shouldn’t downplay your gender identity just because of that.”  That’s why I still call myself a male.  I have little to no dysphoria, and that’s pretty unusual.  I mean, sometimes, I can’t stand my breasts or my hips (for those who don’t know, I have an hourglass shape) and it’s annoying.  Still, I was made this way, and it doesn’t bother me much.  I’m just kind of weird when it comes to my gender identity.

When it comes to my gender expression, I’m more of a femme male. Like, I identify as a guy, but I wear girls’ clothing for no apparent reason.  My mom is fine with me wearing men’s clothing, and apparently, so is my cousin.  They don’t think it’s weird.  I don’t know what’s holding me back from dressing the part.  I’m thinking it might be my boyfriend saying something.  Maybe I’ll experiment with guys’ clothing and wear an outfit while he’s around and see what happens.

Anyways, I’m 400+ words in, and I don’t want to bore you guys, but that’s about all I want to talk about today. Besides, I haven’t talked about me being transgender in quite a while. I’m also trying to spice up my blog and not limit it to mental health. I don’t know, I think it’d be nice to gain some followers that are interested in all of me rather than just my schizoaffective disorder.

Something I’ve noticed. 

It’s almost been 6 months since I started hallucinating. How do I know that? Psych week is on, and it’s been about 6 months since I saw my ‘boyfriend’ cackling at me. I haven’t hallucinated like that in a while, so the abilify is keeping them in check. 

I’m currently watching Born Schizophrenic, and I can kind of relate to this. It’s wonderful that there’s something on early-onset schizophrenia and that people can be educated on this. 

Anyways, this is a big ball of random thoughts. 

On this Memorial Day…

I decided to chat about the deaths that we’ve had in our family so far.  And I have a lot of family, both “online” (my friends) and blood relatives.  Let’s see if I can try to talk about death and stuff.

The first person that I remember dying is my uncle.  He was about 50 when he passed away, and I was the one person in the family that chose not to see him prior to that.  He was conscious at the time, and I still refused to see him.  It was because at that age, I got these feelings that something was going to happen and they did; I had a feeling that he was going to die, so I thought it’d be less painful to stay away from him.

The last memory I have of him was him asking me if I wanted a brown pear.  It’s weird how I said no.  I was scared that the pear was dirty and it needed to be washed off first.  He reassured me it was only the type of peach that was brown.  Still, I didn’t take it.  After his death, it took me until recently to be able to enjoy pears without crying.  I look back on that last memory, and I should’ve taken the pear.  I know it’s stupid to say, but I think that it’d be a better memory if I just did that.

My grandfather was a recent death, only passing away 1 year and a half ago.  I was closer to him, so I felt more pain with his death.  He was schizophrenic, but still, we had a lot of fun with him.  I know he had a rough life, but that life got rough as he passed away.  It was because of cancer.  He had it for the 3rd time and decided that he wasn’t going to take chemo anymore.  So, it was a slow death, and I watched him waste away in the comfort of my own home.

He told me to pray about things, and I think that’s the reason why I’m still a Christian.  Those were his last words to me.  The last memory I have of him is him in a body bag, being whisked away to God knows where. I’m still not over that death, and I know I’m bottling up some emotions with it, but that’s how I operate.  I don’t know why I do it, but that’s why I’m having trouble with my moods.  It took me a year to pick up the book The Fault In Our Stars, seeing as it deals with the subject of cancer.

There are other things, like the death of a teenager named Andrew.  He committed suicide, and the whole school was in a state of shock.  People cried, and there were grief counselors everywhere, and someone even instituted teenagers helping other teenagers.  That program still goes on today.

The point is, this is a time to remember those we lost: family members, those in the army, even those who died because they felt that that was the only way out.  I want to challenge you to be thankful for the time you had with people that you were close to.

Sorry I made such a sad post.  I wanted to make myself talk about it because I need to make progress while my therapist is on vacation.  I want to tell her about it so she doesn’t think that I’m slacking off.

A Psychological Take on Frozen

Hey, so I was listening to the Frozen soundtrack today (I know, I’m a little kid inside) and I thought about the song “For the First Time in Forever.”  In case you haven’t heart it, you can find it here.

So, I realized that Anna, the ginger, younger sister, has something that reminds me of mania.  There’s this “Oh my gosh, the world is a great place and I get to do this, this, this this, and this” vibe from her.  She seems rather hyper, and her thoughts are all over the place. She has this delusion that the first guy she meets is going to be “the one.”

Elsa, on the other hand, is the depressive side of bipolar disorder.  “Conceal, don’t feel, put on a show.”  Sounds like someone masking their depression, doesn’t it?  Then she goes and says, “Make one wrong move and everyone will know.”  That makes someone think of the negative thinking that goes with the depression.

Then there’s this part where both females say the exact same thing, showing how depression and mania can have the same sentence structure, but have a different outlook.  When you’re manic, everything’s great (depending if you’re that hyper happy or agitated happy; I’m usually the hyper happy) and you just want to sing and dance and love everyone.  When you’re depressed, you dread things, and it’s hard to be positive.

So, yeah, this came to me while I was listening to the song, and that’s what it makes it more… Relatable.  I hope you guys enjoyed this, and I might do this with other songs.