How do I know if I’m me with all these pills… it’s like they stop the thoughts that my brain wants to have naturally, so no longer am I purely me but denied my own thoughts, I know those that are truth will come through but it’s just not me learning but being repressed…
Light a cigarette and watch cats fight out in the front yard.
Lol, I did light a cig… but the cats in our compound like each other
That’s a good question.
“I think, therefore I am”…I forget the scientist that came up with that but it grounds me to know that.
Sorry I was having a manic episode
I feel like the real me is the one without sz. But a person is always changing.
I look in the mirror. It’s not a good look but grounds me pretty quick
I don’t have thoughts with those meds. I can’t think.
schizophrenia affects my character.
As well as affecting my functioning,
it causes me to be more introverted, more submissive and more vulnerable to manipulation.
Because I sat down in the living room just last week to think about this very question. I went over a list of who else I could be and I ruled out and eliminated 6 billion people and I arrived at the conclusion that I am me and no one else.
Ha, @kindness is back. How’s it going?
It’s a good question @Itsme. Too tough a question for me. All I know is when I go off meds I don’t feel like myself either.
I feel docile, I guess.
It’s been cold (60 F) and windy today…I need some of that California sunshine !!
You doing okay?
When I am sane, I am most definitely myself.
Just sitting in my car in my carport listening to the Rolling Stones and sipping a soda. In general, things could be better but they also be worse.
That’s a good way of looking at things.
Whenever I feel sorry for myself I think of the 3-year-old girl with leukemia. Puts things into perspective.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I am not the old me anymore. I’m someone new. Like my mother and I sometimes say “Hey, you’re like 80% like you were before you got sick. You’re getting better.” So what happened to the other 20%? I can laugh sometimes and make jokes, but I can’t cry. I can’t work. My thinking is different. I’m not as single-minded as I used to be. It’s like two roads diverged, and I took the shitty one.