That one thing more.

Exhaustive day after restless night; over and over, time goes by in the same way.  Putting up with it all, I find myself getting used to things the way they are.  I know now that I get auditory hallucinations; a shock at first but I can trace it back a while, I can see when they happened, what patterns emerged, what was said etc.  Acceptance.  I dream a lot, vividly, and the images come back to me, often better than I recall memories from “reality.”  I go through the motions of fighting the visions, and then conceding that they are a part of an altered reality that I have to live with, that I have to put up with and deal with and accede to every way of conforming possible.  Acceptance.  Along with both of these, I see a shadow; a blemish.  Something just a little darker than that which surrounds it, always following me, always at the edge of my vision, never in front.  Just always there.  A stain.  Combined, these three things result in me looking over my shoulder a lot, going through levels of anxiety and resignation, back and forth, adding to the exhaustion, adding to the sypmtoms, but at the end of the day; acceptance.

Then, I hallucinate.

These are people.  These are people in colour.  These are people who act like other people.  Maybe a bit oddly, but who am I to judge that?  The difference?  The difference between all that I have described above and what I saw (twice so far)?  The difference was that I couldn’t tell the difference.  I didn’t know that what I saw wasn’t real until I was told they weren’t real.  How can I ever accept that?  How can anyone accept that?  I stopped feeling safe with myself a lifetime ago, but I was always able to tell.  There is half panic and half defeat in my brain as I say these things because how can I ever trust anything?  How do I walk on this Earth knowing that some things may not be there at all but are as real to me as the sun is?  I depend on my logic, and my logic can falter – has faltered.  I have been convinced that one more thing, just one more thing will break me for sure, and now, I have seen that one thing, and I can feel myself unravelling, feel the foundations cracking.  I couldn’t tell the difference.

I also feel angry, and calm.  You may think this is strange but read on and then maybe rethink (you get to think what you want of course, I just have to explain it).  I told the psychiatrist about hearing and seeing things, and he laughed it off and smiled and told me it was normal, in that calm yet oh-so-aggravating voice.  How can it be normal?  I wonder how bad things have to get to be taken seriously?  Yes, okay, I am a self harmer, but I have to say that for him to get serious?  Nothing else is a priority.  And even then, when I tried to explain why I self harmed and maybe his solutions wouldn’t work (I had, had an epiphany of sorts), he just bushed it off.  Do I have to be having psychotic episodes in front of people to be heard?  Is it not as serious if I am telling you something in retrospect?  I am trying to get it through to you that my mind is important to me, and the fact that it can trick me is really having detrimental effects on my feeling of safety and well being, and all I get is a smile that suggests I need to try harder, or somehow pull a miracle out of my rear end and trust that things will get better.  If my mind needs to get better, and that same mind needs to help itself get better…it’s a flaming paradox.  And. It. Frustrates. Me.  But, why am I calm you may ask, though it may not seem likely…because I can shove this into my psychiatrist’s face, and the thought of it gives me a perverse satisfaction.

*Shakes all of the emotions off*

I am just left wondering, when and how is all of this going to get better, you know?  There is too much feeling to process at the moment.  This post describes just a scratch on an iceberg.  I know I will tolerate it, scream and hurt because of it, but above all, I will live with.  And exhaustive day follows restless night; on and on.  Acceptance.

 

 

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