I’ll be right as rain for months on end and then BAM!..I believe I have become some sort of giant media spectacle. It repeats itself over and over.
I’ve never felt like a god, or really important, or a leader…etc. I just feel like I become a social media laughingstock spectacle every 6 months or so. I am unable to function. I stop eating, showering, shaving, sleeping…and become totally unglued. In the past I’ve needed hospitalization on several occasions. The delusion is that strong.
Do any of you have any potential answers for me? I’d like your thoughts and input.
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I think it’s past trauma with a sprinkling of narcissism perhaps. Being a little narcistic, you get things done…but too much of it can destroy you I suppose.
Reading about ‘positive feedback loops’ gave me a theory (something that feels more than just my usual metaphor.)
In music it’s the feedback sound when music gets amplified and goes back into the mic and ultimately causes that screeching sound.
Cutting to the chase I sort of think psychosis is that screeching sound.
One thing I recall about this topic is that they don’t end well. Positive feedback loops that is.
But I should offer all this stems from my first gander of the topic of Sz on Wikipedia about 10 years ago. Wiki is always changing. But it’s opening line was that it’s a disorder effecting perception and expression.
On the old site I said this and the admin at the time paid it some respect. I remember he asked me if I was on medication, nonetheless I think he liked it.
Maybe break the pattern by getting off Facebook, I did 12 months ago. It’s really poison.
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It’s as if the logical side of my brain is at war with the creative side of my brain.
I just googled my real name…googled current news headlines…and there is nothing remotely going on concerning me.
But then I tune into the Radio and read double/ triple meanings into all of the lyrics and become convinced the stations are playing songs to either support me, or mock me…at any given time.
It really is bananas.
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At least I have insight now…I know I’m not firing on all cylinders and I see my Psychiatrist today thank gawd.
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And I splice and break down words into acronyms. I’ve related this before. At the Hospital I was fed Meat Lasagna. I broke that down into…
Me At Las Angeles Screen Actors Guild Not Applicable
I told my nurse the chef downstairs was mocking me for being a bad actor and demanded he stop mocking me.
I remember you from about a year and a half ago going through this 'spectacle" as you call it.
The talking thing is a part I really believe… example on my blog I mentioned a speech I did in college about how NYC should have police cars and taxi cabs both be yellow. To deter street crime was the point I was making.
Not long after and coincidentally while in psychosis Ebay of all things made a t.v. spot that included a yellow car, and it felt like an aggressive vibe, and it caused fear in me.
But if I hadn’t expressed my thoughts in the first place, there wouldn’t have been that negative emotion.
Can you think of an example of this in your life?
A UPS truck would pass by me on the road and I’d break that down into…
U Piece of Sh!t
Just one example of hundreds of delusions of reference I’ve had in the past…and faulty-wired thinking on my behalf. I’ve also been diagnosed with delusions of persecution.
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I relate a lot, At a toll booth the sign said “Depart slowly” and I thought it was something super sadistic meant for me. There were things that led up to this state, weakening me of course.
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There was an allergy warning sign at the Hospital. It was a big peanut with a line through it which read…“No Nuts Allowed”
I thought I was being mocked for being some kind of nut, and wasn’t allowed on that floor of the Hospital.
I ran my fingers along the edge of the sign to see if there was any dust…to see if someone had freshly just put up that sign to torment me.
While psychotic I read the highway signs “100km Max”.
I thought I could get away with speeding because my name wasn’t Max.
In my one time, nine day hospital stay, I found a bobby pin on the floor in the room I was also getting a chest ex-ray in, I thought I was supposed to get it, almost akin to being in a computer game when you do something right. I left it though, but in the moment I felt bad. I wasn’t suicidal but I thought I was supposed to escape.
I remember I went to a cell phone pagoda at the mall and asked the poor kid there if there was a phone that would snap a photo and simultaneously email the photo to 5 people. It would have made me feel safer if I could document “wrong doing.”
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There was a Q-Tip swab on the floor at the Hospital Emergency section.
I broke that down into…“Cue Tip”…like a billiards cue…thinking the whole world thought I was some sort of Eight Ball that was about to get smacked.
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My psychotic episodes have been both humorus and tragic at times.
Never funny when I’m in the delusion, though. Only afterwards when my family tells me what I was thinking, saying and doing at the time I was psychotic.
I should have written mine down. I remember my folks were watching a movie with Richard Dreyfuss and they must have said his name a little bit too much. I went up to my room and looked up DYFS. Division of Youth and Family Services.
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I always called him Richard Dryface because I couldn’t stand his acting.
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I thought this girl on the opposite coast was communicating with me. On Facebook, Bob Marley posted: “I used to sit on the bed and strum it” after I said in an email to her (among other things) did you ever play an instrument. I kid you not. These may come back to me.
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There’s an exit street off of the main highway where I live called Moody Drive. I was driving late at night and thought satellite cameras were following me…so I exited onto Moody Drive.
It was my way of telling the world that i was being “moody”…you know…grumpy. …that I was out for a moody drive. Then I turned on the radio and the show they were playing had an audience roaring with laughter. I thought i had made millions of people laugh with my Moody Drive joke.
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I was actually analyzing the number Pi. And made it a sex thing… as though the diameter was in the business of penetrating the circle.
It didn’t help that a girl I once thought about in my neighborhood had the address “1011”.
I swear I actually thought I answered it: as though the last two digits were “On” a.k.a the number 1, akin to like a simultaneous climax. Then I got haunted by “LL’s” in language, it was horrible.
Anyway from Jerry Maguire “my friend has a pet rabbit” “you can’t compete with that”.
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Thanks for chatting with me, tonight. You are really cheering me up!
I’m still a bit stuck in my delusion, but I see my psychiatrist later today. What a relief.