#visible

Living With Psychosis

Ever since I was old enough to know to worry, I have had uncontrollable anxiety. It would range from OCD-like symptoms, to crying and hyperventilating in front of my fellow students, to self-harm. No matter what I tried, it wouldn't go away.

I used to think I would be stuck with horrible anxiety my whole life. But things began to change in high school. I guess it was just me getting older. I started noticing strange things, but at the same time, I was developing interests of the outside world rather than an imaginary daydream one in my mind.

I began to think about how things work. Thinking just made me feel good. The worries would wash away for those moments. Eventually, I graduated from the known universe to the "unknown universe."

I became struck with strange thoughts and feelings. A whole chain reaction of random coincidences would hit me. It felt like getting whacked on the head, putting together a puzzle, and discovering the secrets of the universe all at once. I figured nothing was a coincidence. I felt powerful- superhuman. No anxiety could hurt me because I know what is more important than school. I started hallucinating things, but I wasn't worried. It was minor compared to the electrical power I felt run through my body.

Then I began to feel paranoid. I felt like people were experimenting on me. Paranoia for me feels like spikes all over, like an extreme version of feeling eyes in your back. I had times when I was too terrified to even move because no place was safe. I started hearing some voices and horrifying screams.

Somewhere along the line, I read a book that warned me about psychosis. I didn't think I was ill until then. It was a slap in the face. I felt terrible, but after a bunch of episodes and hallucinations I got help. I got it early, but not as early as it should have been.

Before I got help, I would mentally fight with myself. It seemed like there were two of me. One was anxiety disguised as safety from psychosis, the other was psychosis disguised as freedom from anxiety. One moment, I would think I was completely losing my mind, the next I would actually believe I was being controlled by a secret society that wanted to either use me, experiment on me, or kill me. I would have horrible feelings in my head, and I would move like a robot- unable to move like a more relaxed human.

When I went to the psychiatrist, I was snap diagnosed with delusional disorder (I know it is not, this is not what DD is like), and put on meds that made me laugh uncontrollably, then feel miserable and tired. I wanted to be normal so bad because I was scared of what my mind could do. Eventually, I realized I don't have to be normal. I just have to be happy and function well. I slowly went off the meds.

It still affects me. I don't think it's leaving. I am not sure if I am better or worse. One of the most obvious things is how I have trouble speaking sometimes. I will keep stopping in the middle of my sentances, barely able to say five words. When I go into an unfamiliar environment, I may become paranoid again. It's hard to understand people sometimes, and people sometimes say I am a cyborg or a robot, which, needless to say, is not very kind. Worst of all, I lost my desire to learn. It just shut off, and many of my passions seem meaningless. But not everything is bad. My biggest anxiety issue is gone. It shut off. For that I am thankful.

Some days I think: "Am I nothing but a disorder?" But it does give me something to fix about society: lack of understanding. The kind you see in books where a killer is a schizophrenic thirsty for the blood of little children. That's hurtful and unrealistic. It needs to stop. I would like to see more books accurately and respectfully portraying all mental illnesses. You can help make this happen.

by electr0n1te