4/23/15
I have been drinking at 2am every night due to insomnia and my life sort of sucks as of today. I woke up at 1030 today because I left my earbuds in my phone so it didn’t wake me up. I was nuts. The alcohol has the opposite effect, an excitatory effect when you wake up, and I was off my rocker. I got too agitated with my mind shattered (Saks said it’s shattered, not split- it’s not like having just two realities and them going back and forth and being equally valid, it’s like shattered glass with tiny little pieces of insanity and reality fucking everywhere, just all over the place and impossible to pick up and sort out and put back together on one’s own) and had a fit, screaming, slamming a book against my head (ironically a psych textbook) and then throwing it, just ■■■■■■ up, very ■■■■■■ up, then my meds kicked in and I felt like I couldn’t think straight but I wasn’t all over the place, not hallucinating incessantly, deluding but not completely out of touch with reality.
So I called the psychiatrist and he said to take double Xanax at night- just to get through the next week. This is a sleep issue, an insomnia problem, the psychosis results from it, I know when I am actually just breaking off completely from reality, and this is not quite it- just looks like it. No, in complete relapses, I am different and just insane and not capable of even writing like this, I just write what runs through my head when I get completely out of touch. I have the chronic kind, so I don’t have episodes, my life is an episode, I deal with positive symptoms constantly, but to a much lesser degree than before medication. I define my relapses as when the meds are as effective as skittles.
I hate this ■■■■ and I want to defeat it as much as I can- one can never win their personal war with schizophrenia, you cannot eradicate it, yet you can win every single battle, which means surviving and achieving your goals at the time, accomplishing the necessary tasks to maintain your occupation and what not. For me that meant going to my night class and taking a test today. And not killing myself, I get impulses to just slice up my arm and put my cigarettes out on myself and take a whole bottle of pills, but I don’t ever do that ■■■■ because that ■■■■ is permanent and relapses are not.
I guess what I mean to say is that as far as I know, I can win every battle but I will never win the war. I can achieve, I do achieve, and I will achieve, but I will never destroy what is wrong with me—I do insist that it is “wrong” because it is scientifically pathological, clinically diagnosed, and is not adaptive on average by any means. I take amusement in anti-psychiatry and that sort of mad pride crap because those people are delusional in regards to their own state of well-being; they believe that they are well when they are simply not functioning like a healthy version of them would. I know that this illness is the most confusing illness I can think of, which isn’t saying much because I am only educated about mental illnesses. Here is the problem; the term “mental” implies that it is psychosocial. No, it is not always psychosocial. There is usually a neurological component in mental disorders, so I reject the term “mentally ill”: I am biologically, neurologically and genetically ill which is the precursor to the “mental” aspect of the illness. We are not “mentally ill” as people with schizophrenia. We are neurologically ill. “Mentally ill” should be reserved for psychosocial illnesses, that is, psychological disorders which have no clear neurological factors. Factors? You know I mean “causes”. Cerebral ventricles swelling and compressing the brain, that is not due to psychological and social factors. Abnormal frontal lobe activity, that is neurological. Reduced brain volume. I’ll just stop there.
Why even post an entry from my personal journal which is only on my PC and flash drive? I guess it is to reinforce my views on this illness on myself (I understand that speaking my mind only reinstates what I think) and to remind everyone else that this is not our fault, and to reinforce the manner in which I cope. I seem to cope quite well; I will be modest and just state that much.