The Beginning of Depression. **Trigger Warning**

I told my friend that I’ve been having intrusive thoughts about hurting myself.  Like, I fantasize about the blood and stuff.  She’s supporting me now, but I feel all alone.  Why couldn’t I be born without mental illness?  Why do I have to see and hear things and twitch and be manic or depressed?  Why must I take my medicine?

Well, I have to take it in order to survive.  I’m not being dramatic.  I’m being realistic.  I literally have to take my antidepressant or else, I’d have at least a suicide attempt on my hands.

The only person that would comfort me left my life, and now, I don’t know where to turn.  I want to pick up cutting again, but I’m scared to.  It’d be an addiction for me.  It’s a ritual for me.

I have to take a shower after I cut.  I know, but it cleans the cuts, and I feel….  I feel like after I’ve done such a bad thing, I want to be clean again.  It sounds odd, but that’s how I feel.

This is just a depressive rant…. Let me stop…

The Nurse Lied to Me + More.

How is it that it’s perfectly alright to lie to a patient…?

I may have been suffering from a delusion, but the nurse that prescribed me medicine lied to me…  She said I had borderline personality disorder, and, to be quite frank, she deleted it from my chart.  She placed the delusion in my head, and that, in turn, made me believe that.  Truth be told, I don’t trust her anymore.

In other news, there’s this coworker that I have a huge crush on. Let’s call him A.  I met A in December, and he was very quiet and nice, but then he started to joke around and open up.  We haven’t really talked because, let’s face it, I’m awkward as hell and he’s poised.  Still, I really wish that I could talk to A.  Haha….

He’s not gonna like me and it’s not going to happen.  Well, I gotta get ready to work 6 hours.  Let’s hope he’s there, because eye candy makes the time go by faster.

Today’s appointment…

…Went better than I thought it would.  I saw my psychiatrist, and he was thrilled that I lost 6 pounds, have a job, and have no need to take insulin anymore.  He called them “major improvements.”

I told him about my symptoms of Saturday and how they involved anger, anxiety, and extreme suicidal thoughts.  He wants to switch up my decreased version of risperidone: one .5 tablet twice a day.   I can see it in his expression that he was curious about another diagnosis that I recently learned about in class.  I’m not going to say it because it’s possible that I don’t have it.  Still, I could tell that he is curious about it.

He wanted to relieve my symptoms, and he contemplated putting me on Lithium, which I’ve only heard a handful of times from a blogger’s URL and an Evanescence song.  He also considered putting me on an antidepressant, but the Abilify takes care of my depression as is.  It’d also make me gain lots of weight, and considering I just lost 6 pounds and I’m still overweight, that would be bad.

So, he stuck with risperidone instead, and he didn’t mind doing that.

At this point, I don’t care if he diagnoses me with anything else.  I don’t care, and it’s because I’m just myself.  If seeing things and having radical mood swings is me, then I’m not going to change myself or wish that I was someone else because of it.  I was made this way, and I’m not going to apologize for who I am.

Psych Class + Ethics Class = Ugh. { Trigger Warning }

I was in psychology class today, and I learned about the various forms of bipolar disorder.  I also learned a tiny bit about schizophrenia, but we just only scratched the surface.  According to the behavior that my teacher had talked about today, I have characteristics of Bipolar I.  I’m not kidding, I spent a whole lot of money when I was diagnosed, and if I could, I would’ve drank alcohol and done other reckless things.  Like, the biggest thing for me would be impulses.  I am impulsive, and I admit that.

I also found out that I suffered from a mixed episode when I was in high school.  I hated myself, and I wanted to die, but at the same time, I was so energetic and it was scary.  I remember being very bubbly after showing friends my wrist from self-harming, and they said I needed help.  I didn’t care though.  It made me happy.

Come to think of it, before I developed schizophrenia, I went through mixed episodes when I hurt myself.  Those were scary times, and I don’t want to remember them.

Speaking of schizophrenia, it was brought up in my ethics class.  The teacher was very uninformed about hallucinations, or at least in my opinion.  He used an example of a purple elephant…

But not many people would see a purple elephant.  There’s far more disturbing things that you could see.  For example, a person getting their head cut off.  Or, at the very least, a hallucination torturing you because you have, oh, I don’t know, blonde hair or something.  I mean, I felt a little heated after the class talked about it in mixture with Utilitarianism, so I literally bit my tongue to prevent myself from talking.

Other than both of my disorders being brought up along with my reflection, I’m ok.  I mean, my head is hurting once more, thanks to the withdrawal symptoms.  I’ll have to get used to it until I’m off the risperidone.  I hope that’ll be soon.

Abilify & Risperidone

I had a massive headache from a withdrawal from the risperidone.  Oh, god that sucked.  I’m not a person to complain about pain, but that hurt me so much.  Like, it was a 10 on a scale of 1-5.  The risperidone also started getting out of my system, and that was hell.  I was out of it all day, but now, I feel much better.  I can also tell the abilify is working.  I’m not hallucinating at all.

I went to the doctor today, and I told him I was on abilify.  He assumed I had Major Depressive Disorder.  It’s because I don’t “look” like a schizoaffective human being; I just strike him as depressive.  This is what I hate about stigma.  Stop assuming people’s disorders by just a look…

But yeah, that’s literally all that’s going on with me mentally. It’s weird not having much to talk about, and I feel like I’m neglecting you guys. D:

Aww, well…

I am borderline psychotic.

I can feel myself trying to slip, but the abilify is making it to where I can’t slip.  I’m not hallucinating anymore, and I do think it was a withdrawal symptom.  I was hearing things and now I’m not.  I’m not seeing things.  I’m taking painkillers to keep the headache away because it’s too unbearable without the meds.

I’ve been relaxing and thinking.  I think I’m going to write my boyfriend a lengthy letter telling him how much he means to me.  I sometimes forget that he said that he’d be with me, no matter how mentally unstable I’d end up.  He’s very supportive and he has a big heart, and that’s why I fell for him.

Anyways, I’m at a place to where I want to do something nice and loving for people.  I think it’s the best time and I’ve reached a nirvana of some sort.  Maybe it’s the borderline psychotic thing I’m having, but I feel more peaceful.  I feel at ease after what happened this morning.  I love this feeling.  I love it to bits.

Details, details.

I was on my phone and I couldn’t write a lot because my phone was a dingle-muffin (welcome to my new method of swearing).  So, I decided to make a post explaining in detail what happened at the psychiatrist’s office today.  It was something that was a lot of information, but I needed to hear some things.

Right now, I’m currently diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder NOS and something called undifferentiated schizophrenia.  Thanks to my rad research skills, I decided to look it up and give a definition with you guys.  It’s when someone experiences some of the symptoms of schizophrenia, like hallucinations and disorganized speaking in my case, but they do not meet the criteria of an actual schizophrenic category.  Now… Let’s get to the Schizoaffective part of things.

I’ve heard that Schizoaffective Disorder occurs when someone has both traits of bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, but doesn’t meet the criteria for both of them.  I was also told by my psychiatrist that “schizoaffective” was a very good description of what my diagnosis was.

Now that I found out I’ve got schizoaffective disorder, I’m considering getting my tubes tied or something like that.  I don’t want my offspring having schizoaffective disorder, and I sure don’t want them to go through the hell I once went through.  I’ve been considering this for a long time, and I really want to do this.  I know I’m only 19, but this is for the best.  Besides, I want a couple of dogs as my children.

As for the medicine, I’m scared.  If he’s cutting the Risperidal in half, then that means that I could very well hallucinate. I could see Thayer again, which I don’t mind him, but the other hallucinations — Danielle, the Evil Boyfriend, and Tristan — are going to be trouble if they pop up again.  I’ve been hearing Thayer already, but I’ve heard him only for one day. Still, I’m scared.  I’m really, really scared.

The thing I’m a little nervous about is that I have to tell my boyfriend that I have schizophrenic traits, and though he knows I hallucinated in the past, he doesn’t know that I’ve been formally diagnosed with schizophrenia. So, I’ve gotten better on trusting him and knowing he wouldn’t leave me when things get tough.  Still, I’m wondering what he’ll say in response.  He might want to just hug me.  It’s not my fault my brain is like that; the doctor said so.

I just can’t believe I’m schizophrenic.  I mean, my grandfather was one, and I thought that there was only a 12% chance that I would be schizophrenic as well.  I guess I got that 12% gene in me.  And it’s hard.  It’s really hard.  I have to hide my mental health from my family.  Once they hear the “Schizo” part, they’ll think that I’ll jump off a second story balcony and run and scream that people are out to get me (That happened to my grandfather, by the way).  I don’t think people understand how horrid it is when you have some schizophrenic traits. You see and hear things that you don’t want to see and hear.  You have some trouble getting out words.  (It would be apparent if you heard me talk; I tend to type a lot better.)  Sometimes, you get paranoid delusions….

It’s not fun.

But let me stop babbling.  I just wanted to get some things off of my chest.