A girl was talking ■■■■ so I roasted her and made her cry. Kinda felt bad about being mean, but she had it coming. Drank eleven cups of coffee, threw up the last few because too much caffeine, went off the rails and I’m afraid I’ve triggered an episode. I realize now I’ve been mixed or psychotic or both for the past two weeks. Pacing, ranting to therapists about UFOs and mind control, talking to myself, hallucinating. I will ramble totally disorganized and then have a moment of clarity where I realize nothing was real, it was never real, it was all in my head. And then I’m back to that place in the same conversation.
I’ve been drinking a LOT of coffee recently to make up for me quitting amphetamines and co. Seriously considered killing myself if my IEP didn’t go well tomorrow, if I wasn’t able to return to my old school (I go to hospital school now). I want to go back. I want to get out. I want to forget about my illness, even if it means I’m not ready by conventional standards. I was held for twenty three hours in a facility Friday night. I’m out now, I got better for about twenty four hours after that. I’m back in that state.
There is no getting off the crazy train, you stop you crash, you go too fast you crash, you gotta just steer and hope for the best. But I didn’t choose that; I chose to stop. Now I’m waiting for the crash. I took my PRN Invega, and I’m going to quit coffee. I’m going to go to a normal school. I’m going to get better. I have to, and I fight suicide every day all day. I have to get better, it is sanity or death for me right now, I don’t want to kill myself but if I don’t get better I don’t see the point in living.
So I’m going to get better. No pressure.
EDIT: Yes, I know everything wrong about what I’m saying and I am aware how they are cognitive flaws and are more projections of my emotions than facts rooted in reality, but whatever. That’s how I roll.