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#schizoaffective

Things that aren’t talked about enough in regards to people with schizophrenia:

- rocking back and forth or any other voluntary and repetitive movement actually helps

- Those posts that are like “this is not real it’s a simulation” really trigger you because you’re not sure what’s real anymore

- Intrusive thoughts everywhere and all the time, even if you’re on medications.

- Mixing up words And sentences a lot. People always ask you “huh???” And you have to take a second to reorganize your thoughts.

- Inappropriate reactions. When something’s sad, you laugh, something’s happy you cry. But more than that you don’t really have proper initial responses to most things that are emotional in any way.

- Worrying how deep your delusions and hallucinations go. You really don’t trust anything to be real or even your own thoughts to be your own.

- Missing specific hallucinations because many of them were actually ways to cope with your trauma and your life.

- Religion is a touchy subject because you can’t trust other worldly things to be real

- The reactions people give when you come out as schizophrenic. They always assume you’re going to hurt them in some way despite never showing any aggression towards them before. It hurts more when it’s family you’ve known all your life.

- Having to sit down with the people closest in your life and telling them that you need help taking your medication because often times you feel like not taking it. (Also: them not fully understanding why you need help)

- You constantly worry about turning into what the media has turned you into despite never doing anything wrong, violent, or anything classified as “crazy.”

- anxiety on the road because you’re afraid you’re going to see something while you’re driving and it’s going to make you crash

- Feeling like you have to work in order to support yourself but knowing most of the time it debilitates you.

- Physical contact helps a lot (not for all people but for some)

- Asking close friends/family if they hear/see/smell the same things constantly

There’s plenty more but yeah here’s some.

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If you ever feel the need to talk to someone I’m here.

If you feel like a burden,I’m here.

If you feel anxious/useless, I’m here.

I’m always here,just go ahead and send a message.

I’m always in constant pain and I do not wish this pain for anyone,so let’s ease each others road in life with our burdens and problems.

Let’s talk.

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UPDATE!

So I talked to my doctor and all today which I was nervous about. My official diagnosis is Schizoaffective disorder depressive, PTSD and anxiety. So yeah I’m happy I was able to figure it all out. I am also dropping a med as well out of the seven heavy psychotics that I am. My doctor says I have a so called dangerous mind because of the thoughts of hurting myself and others 24/7. Anyways that’s me. Any question feel free to message me.

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So I was on an app called MyCharts that’s for doctor visits, medical history, meds your on, test done in hospitals, etc. so they did an update on the app not to long ago. (Yes very late on this but just remembered it at 11pm) anyways I was looking under health issues. I was like yeah I have schiozaffective disorder, PTSD, anxiety. All cool but the last time I went of Oct 2019 I saw that it says Schizoaffective disorder Bipolor Type (HCC)…. WHAT! No one told me this at all! Not even on the papers sent home with me! So I made an appointment with my  psychologist for tomorrow to see what’s on his end to see if I really do have Bipolor. Wish me luck!

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Today is shot day.  And this time my nurse will have the med ahead of me since  I switched pharmacys.  So far there are just the typical worries of med corrupting my system that is going through my head.

Damn do I get anxious about the shot.  So many drugs in me and hen here is his big dose.  Point is a hella  a llo of drugs be going in my system.

But the appointment went well.  There was some confusion on the outside though.  I wasn’t the only one there and the sectary had to figure out who to let in first.  One of the woman out there was there for a shot a second I had no idea.  No shot in hand nor did she have a mask.  Or even register that the office is closed.  My drug was already there and so was another prescription so I was able to know out another bird.

Now for me it is trying to be active till I get to tired and the sedation affects me.

[posted May 27, 2020]

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This is Your Daily Reminder…

  • Have you taken your meds? If not, please go do so. Your mental and physical health are important.
  • Have you eaten something and drank water today? If not, please go do so. Ice cold water (or some other liquid if water isn’t for you) and something to fill you up is always good.
  • Have you stretched at all today? If not, basic stretches such as extending your arms and legs, and bending your back can help relieve tension. If due to physical reasons stretching is hard, there are adaptive ways to stretch. If you want more info on those my ask is always open and Google is also an amazing resource.
  • Breathe. In and our. Three times. Make sure you breathe deep enough that you feel your belly expand.
  • Remember you are loved. You’ve got this. Keep on fighting.

Stay Strong Lovelies <3

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Retraction

I have previously said some outrageous things on this blog. It was said based on what I believed to be true at the time. I’ve recently achieved some clarity in both my memories and my voices. So, I would like to amend some statements I have made.

1. Conan is a Delta controlled slave.

False. Conan has never killed anyone to my knowledge. This belief formed during psychosis and I was confusing him with someone else. I was in a romantic relationship with this person, or rather, this voice and I feared that somehow if I were to be in the same bed with them that they’d smother me in my sleep. In my mind, they just couldn’t help it, they were programmed that way.

2. Conan kidnapped me when I was a kid.

Partially true, mostly false. This story came about based on memories I have of a traumatic event in childhood. The voices helped me remember, but it was hard to distinguish one voice from the other so a lot of information got attributed to the wrong person.

Someone named Martin and Marge had their daughter taken away and put with another family. Then one day Martin hears a kid’s voice talking to him (me) and thinks it’s his daughter. I, on the other hand, am three years old and had just had a dream about Conan and in it I ask for the gift of telepathy. I wake up, try to talk to Conan and get Martin instead. I am confused, especially because I find I can also talk to Martin’s son Martin (Jr.).

A few years later, when I am five years old, I walk into my room and see a man sitting in my closet. He has red hair and a pretty face, so I believe it’s Conan. It’s Martin (Sr.). He tells me to get in and talks to me a while. Then he leaves.

A few days later I again walk into my room and open the closet door and there is a new person there. He has red hair and acne. I am dismayed. I ask him, “Where’s the good-looking guy?” He calls himself Michael because his dad named him Martin, after himself, and he hates his dad. After around four hours, he sneaks out of the house.

A few days pass. Martin (Sr.) comes back. He brings Marge. We make plans to escape together.

At this point, Martin (Sr.) believes that I’m his daughter and that I’m living with my adopted family. Martin (Jr.) has caught on and even comes to visit me at my kindergarten class. I have come to believe that Martin and Marge are my real parents. Marge explains that I started out in her belly and ended up here with a new mommy. She, too, believes that I’m her daughter.

A few weeks go by and it’s the night of the escape. Martin’s voice tells me what to do. He tells me when he has arrived. On one of his previous visits he has taken the screen off the window, so it is easy now for me to step onto my dresser, open it and crawl out into the grass (My room was in the basement so the window sat on the ground.) I get into his car and we drive off.

Martin (Sr.) has planned a surprise for me. Turns out he is distantly related to Conan and he managed to get Conan to come and take me out. First we stop a house party. I take some cocaind and heroin and fall asleep. When I wake up, Conan’s there.

He believes he is taking out his second cousin’s daughter with her parent’s permission. He does not know that I’ve been kidnapped and fed drugs. All he knows is that I’m real tired because I keep falling asleep.

He takes me to a karaoke bar. He sang a song that sounded like She Fucking Hates Me by Puddle of Mudd but not quite. I was in awe of him but I didn’t want to sing, too shy.

At the end of the night he drops me off at home, safe and sound.

So did he kidnap me? Not really. But kind of by accident.

3. I am telepathic and so are others and we talk to each other, through our minds and also in person.

I have met all the voices I have. Each one of them, except for Conan, told me they can hear me when I talk to them in my head. However that was all a once or twice kind of event, meeting them. I’m not in contact with any of them now for various reasons.

For example, when I was twenty-two, I was admitted to the hospital. My nurse was Martin (Jr.). I didn’t remember him at the time. But I do remember seeing him through a window and thinking, “That’s him! That’s the real Conan!” And then a few seconds later he walked into the room and asked another nurse, “Did you say something? I thought you said something like ‘the real Conan’ or something.” The nurse shook her head and said, “No. No one here said anything.” Over the course of that hospital stay I ended up talking about telepathy a lot and confirming that a I could head and speak to at least Martin (Jr.).

My voices, that’s what I call them, and I talk everyday. There’s been lots of negative validation and some positive validation.

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I’m not feeling good. I’ve been high almost the entire weekend. At least 50% of my awake time has been inebriated, and it feels awful. I had so much I wanted to do for myself this weekend, like changing my sheets, showering, doing a load of laundry, and practicing mindful eating, but I did none of it, and I feel like Ive been unconscious half the time like I didn’t exist or do anything. Or like I might as well have not existed any time I was high because I did nothing but watch marble sports on youtube and eat food. It’s been weird. And yet I’m having the urge to get so high I can barely stand it and cut myself with a knife. This is the first time my urge to self harm has been one of punishment. Like…wanting to make myself hurt for disappointing myself. I want to go to the hospital where I know I’m mostly safe. But I also want to stay alone and have the freedom to make myself suffer. I have such a half and half split like this sometimes between wanting to take care of myself and wanting to hurt and ruin my wellbeing, and it feels like an agonizing back and forth tug of war where both sides really want what they want and are pushing to get their way. I feel so fucking weird right now. I feel like im teetering on a balance beam or something. I feel so dissociated and wrong, but like I’ll be fine in the morning and can therefore not justify going to the hospital. Like I’m not sick enough to need intense care, but maybe I am? I just dont knowwww. I’m so fucked in the head. I need help, but I also feel like what I’m experiencing isn’t real or true or valid enough to be as actually urgent as it feels. My self harm isnt a suicidal gesture, and I’m generally not actually suicidal, so it’s not like my life is in danger, but does not-fatal self harm warrant hospitalization? If I’m sane enough to pack comfortable clothes for my stay, am I not out of my mind enough to be admitted? I want someone to tell me the right answers to these questions, but I don’t know who could answer properly.

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I’m back on the Risperdal again.  Having issue.  Just can’t seem to stay stable.  Depression symptoms they have crept back in.

I’m also beyond tired and sick of the headaches. Both I think are increased from normal levels causes of the Risperdal.  It is an as-needed drug but with every time I feel I have to go for it the sooner, it is going to become apart of the normal.

Scabs on my hands are up to 4 main ones the are just disgusting to look at ( 2 on each hand) and a third tiny dot that is new as of today thanks to my cat.  He needs his claws trimmed.

As for all the cut-up spots om my body, all are purple healed scars.

On a positive note I feel okay just okay.


[posted May 23, 2020]

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