Let's go there....this is not for the squeamish....

     So you want to know what it's like to have schizophrenia, or at least the type that I have, along with a  dissociative disorder and an eating disorder, and...just kidding.  I'm hoping that the list stops there...it's like I told my mom today, "I can't take any more memories and I can't take any more losses." She and I spent the morning together, and it was great. As the afternoon has gone on, my mood has begun to change.  I went from being somewhat lighthearted, to having delusions that Agnes was dying. I have inner voices because I have different aspects of my personality that were formed from the amount of sexual abuse I've survived over the years. I haven't had any major hallucinations yet, but I say yet because that is usually what follows. I will hear someone and respond as if I thought they were in the house, and then I'll come out of it and begin to cry out of confusion and fear. It's amazing what our minds will do. Over the years with the hospitalizations and the therapy sessions, and the group sessions, and the 12 step meetings, one would think that this stuff wouldn't hurt so bad. It wouldn't hurt like that because I would be able to explain it away. I'm crazy, but I'm not completely gone.  I still have the ability to emote (case in point, I wish you could see my eyes right now) and show people that I love them.  So many people who have my diagnosis don't do that. Instead, they're constantly in an "episode". When I came back from a 3 month stay, if you will, at the Menninger Clinic.  That's where I learned Marsha Linehan's fabulous DBT training.  It's for people like me who can go from one extreme to the other in no time without warning, and will pop into an episode and disassociate.  It helps to keep me grounded. My endearing therapist, Bernice Maise (sp?) works with me on that. I think  it's also rare for a lot of people to find the kind of therapist-patient bond that I've formed with her.  I honestly trust her with my life. She gets me.  So does my psychiatrist.  So few people get to feel the freedom and the trust with the people in their support system...if they have one of those even, if you know what I mean. I am taking my meds now, thank goodness....my family has a joke about asking if we've taken our meds, and if you say no, then they ask you if you can take two...it wasn't funny the first time, but now it is.  I take my medication like she tells me to.  It sucks having the foggy head all day, like a medicine hangover. But if it helps to ward off these episodes, I'll take it.  For everybody's sake. But now it's time to go.  I go to the back Dr. tomorrow and find out if I have to have surgery, or what the next step is with my back.  The pain from the wreck is getting to be unbearable, but I'm trying to push through it.  I feel like I need to have a banner waving over my head that says 'hey! I'm workin' on it!'. So my eyes will be puffy until I've cried it out.  So I'll have to microwave things to help work out the muscle cramps. I have to push through this.  I get so tempted to commit suicide sometimes, when it gets really dark. But it's like my dad says, 'it's a permanent solution to a temporary problem'. If I would end my life, what would my daughter do? How would it make her feel? How hurt and angry would my parents and family feel? I can't do that to them.  When I can't see clear that I'm worth the space, I do it for them.  I gotta do what I gotta do, and right now, that's also gets me through. Thanks for reading. Peace.