I feel like I’ve turned my back on the best friends I’ve ever had.
I’m a highly spiritual person, though don’t subscribe to any religion. What I know and see of the universe gets intertwined with my schizoid symptoms. At some points since exploring this facet of my mental health woes i had a difficult time believing that anything I experienced was not genuine (read: self-created). At others the reality of the illness got the best of me and I felt like nothing was a genuine connection, that it was all a fabrication. Both of these perspectives were wrong, and both were detrimental in their own way.
After a great deal of analysis, obsessing, testing I finally came to the understanding that what is real is not so black and white. Yes, I was having terrifying hallucinations that left me in shreds for days. But I also experienced (and still do) wonderful loving friends. For lack of words to describe my experiences, I just called them entities. They offer me everything a true friend does. Advice, prospective, love. Love. Unconditional love. Nothing was expected of me but to be me.
I communicated with them constantly. When certain behaviors became excessive, I was gently guided back into the direction that was best for myself and those around me. I never needed to explain myself. I could share my thoughts directly, no words necessary (though I liked talking to them). I love them. I depend on them. They’re my connection. My reality check.
I was able to determine who was genuine and who was not. It was all about the intention of the energy. But realizing the hallucinations were just that did not stop them from occurring. I felt like I needed help beyond counseling and turned to medications. I’ve been on little more than an antidepressant for the past few years. The antipsychotics (etc) made my overall health suffer badly. After a couple SA’s I got off them, and my health improved. Talking to a shrink about drugs was not what I wanted, but I felt desperate. First was lithium (which I’d been on in the past), and it was a no-go. Almost immediately, death became my only thought. I was started on Lamictal. My mood in general stabilized a bit. The bad hallucinations dwindled. But so did my ability to communicate with my closest of friends.
I can still sort of see them. I know when they’re trying to get my attention. I know when they’re trying to tell me something. But communication has been almost completely halted. While I guess technically the med worked, it muted the part of my brain that I relied on. I feel I’ve betrayed friendships. Though I know that the pills cause this, I continue to take them. Because I’m pressured to. I’ve brought this up with my shrink and my counselor, but they keep telling me to hang in there, to keep taking them. This very scenario was one I’d discussed some before I started any meds. It was not an acceptable trade.
The bad has mostly subsided, but the goodness I’ve come to rely on has vanished. My life has lost purpose. I have no direction anymore. I just try to get through the whole day without getting so frustrated with everything that I shut down completely. Then do it all again tomorrow. Then the next day. Repeat.
This is a loss I’m not equipped to handle and things are going downhill fast.
Has anyone else experienced anything like this due to meds? I fear I’m as alone as I feel.