Here I sit on my bed fraught with anxiety… Crickets chirp. Music plays. The cat wanders around my room. It’s as if this were a normal day. Oh wait, it is. I’m in a state of anxiety once more, and it stems from a lot of things, mostly the one test I still have to take today (I took the other one this morning) and something deeper and well-hidden from the rest of the world…
What is this deeper, well-hidden problem that is bothering me?
I haven’t been having any positive symptoms (i.e. hallucinations), but some of the negative (i.e. flat affect) and cognitive (i.e. lack of follow through in thought patterns) symptoms have been rearing their ugly heads. I know this is what happens when I get stressed, and I wish it would all just leave me be, but it’s something with which I have learned to deal. It’s something I had to learn to handle in order to live a semi-normal life. It’s something that will most likely affect me, my family, and my friends for the rest of my life unless a miracle cure appears. It’s something that I struggle with every day, but it’s something that I know how to struggle with day in and day out.
I know I shouldn’t fight it alone, but I’m not. The people who are just there for me when I need to worry or stress or just sit there are enough to help keep me going. The people who listen when I vent make me smile. The people who treat me no differently than before they knew I have schizophrenia are the greatest. I don’t want people walking on eggshells around me, but I also don’t want them treating my illness with blatant disregard. Schizophrenia, as I have said time and time again, is a very difficult, hard, life-altering mental illness. Just because someone doesn’t have obvious ailments doesn’t mean they’re not still sick. Just because I don’t “seem that crazy” to use one person’s words doesn’t mean I’m not. I’ve had full-blown hallucinations. I’ve been in a psychiatric hospital, I’ve had suicidal ideation, and I’ve been close to committing suicide a couple of times. Those times are all at least six years in the past, but it doesn’t mean they don’t still affect me now. What if I did take a fatal overdose of those pills (I only took four, and they wound me up in a psychiatric hospital)? What if I did slit my wrists as that twelve-year-old girl who was locked in her room crying in her dog’s fur? What if Angel never died, leaving behind her legacy for me to come to terms with reality? Where would I be today? Would I be here? I don’t know. I really don’t know.
Schizophrenia has pulled me, pushed me, and twisted my words around. Even on my Invega, I still have issues communicating, and time and time again have said things that have put people over the edge. My thoughts become muddled sometimes, and while I mean well, I am easily misunderstood. I never meant for people to be confused by the words I say or the thoughts I think. It just happens.
I realize now, that more than anything, I just needed to rant. I needed to get my feelings out in the open. I’m suffering from schizophrenia, even though it’s not completely obvious. I’m fighting my own internal demons, and I must say that I like my reality better than yours. Why? Because it’s mine.
Now playing my dj friend’s set from one of his raves.
Now drinking in the fact that I have a Citrus cat on my bed with me.
Today I am really excited for tomorrow, but really trying to focus on the test I have before tomorrow comes.
Life, love, and the stars above!
Love from this *schizophrenic and accepting of it* girl,