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  1. Started 1.5mg Vraylar today. I will update in one week then again in two weeks. I'm getting off 5mg Abilify. I'm also on 200mg Wellbutrin 2x/day and Xanax 0.5mg 3x/day. I'm interested to see how this led does with my anxiety.
  2. I'm here again because I am free for the umpteenth time from captivity in a psych ward. And my mind won't stop going. Sure, the wizard doctor switched around my meds a bit, but nothing more or less than what I had previously been on. I was saddened that my psychiatrist, who works in the hospital, chose not to attend to me even though I was screaming at everyone who would listen that he was the only one I could talk to and the only one who could save me. The main precipitating factor of my spiral was my relapse on alcohol and subsequent overdose on a bottle of tylenol, bottle of lithium, and bottle of Wellbutrin. I had been off many of my meds for about a month, as well. One intubation, being restrained by security guards in the ICU, and multiple shots of Haldol later, and I was bouncing back and forth between two delusional realities of which both were complete nightmares. I understood, finally, why my friend who had schizophrenia shot himself. I was trapped in a hallucination that only vaguely resembled reality but mostly I knew the only way to make the nightmare of hallucinations stop was for that final release of death. Anyway, I'm getting into heavy morbidity and should probably start trying to make a point. I've never experienced delirium and hallucinations like this before. To the point where I had to be physically restrained because I knew receiving a shot would throw me into that alternate reality which was terrifying. To the point where I was intubated because I was aspirating on my vomit. The point where I didn't know what was real and what wasn't real, such as when I vomited on the hospital floor and "saw" pieces of plastic come out of the vomit and was convinced the doctors had implanted these plastic devices inside of me. Or how I knew that I had swallowed a razor blade, that I had murdered someone, that I was being tortured and being played mind games with.... And now I have to keep trying, once again, to live. Normally, functionally, with the expectation that I should be strong enough to overcome my mental illness (they say bipolar disorder). And I keep wondering, why? what is the meaning of life? why am I afflicted with these confusions that wreak havoc on my perception of reality? As well as I believe I may be doing, I admit I periodically stop taking my medications because I despise the side effects and even more so despise the idea that I may actually need them. I admit that I medicate with alcohol sometimes.... and I spiral and do self destructive things. I'm a cutter - usually without getting stitches, however, the most stitches I've had in one sitting for self-harm was 38. I've had bulimia for the past six years. I seek acceptance through sex because it's how I grew up learning how to be loved and validated, erstwhile hating it regardless. The positives: I have a job where I help others, I'm in school with a major geared towards serving my community and individuals, and my family is giving me a home to live in while I go through a divorce (with an abusive individual). In a way I'm using this post as a soap box, which perhaps it's better served as one of those journal entries that I need to acquaint myself with. That established, I'd like to turn this post towards those who have experienced psychosis/living within unreality, hospitalization, and the aftermath of acclimating to "normality". 1. What were the precipitating factors? 2. What happened that put you in the hospital (who/where/how/when, etc) 3. What was your hospital experience like? 4. What were your hallucinations/delusions/other psychiatric symptoms? 5. How did you get out of the hospital? 6. What are obstacles you've encountered acclimating to life on the outside? 7. Learning experiences from the whole ordeal? I haven't given up yet, however I've confused, afraid, directionless, needy, and desperate. Also hopeful, despite it all.
  3. I must record this. I waited until he fell asleep. I don't know how long before he notices I'm gone. I'm simplifying the details and conversation because I only remember certain parts . I was annoying him and he kept telling me to lay down and shut up. We both had had enough drinks to make us buzzed, but not shit faced. Finally he jumped up grabbed me by the throat with anger and rage in his face and voice and told me to shut the fuck up. He slammed me by the throat into the mattress on the ground and proceeded to twist both of my arms in such a painful way I was screaming and crying. When he let me go I was pissed and kept asking him why he would do that and what was wrong with him, then he attacked me again by twisting my arms until I thought they would break. I was crying my eyes out, asking him why why and telling him I love him and begging him to stop. I began to hunt for my phone and cars keys. I managed to get my phone from him after a struggle, but he refused to tell me what he did with my car keys. Around this time I discreetly dialed 911 on my phone and hid it under a pillow on the mattress. He and I kept fighting and I grabbed the phone and hung up so he couldn't confiscate it. I remember he jumped on top of me after telling me several times to shut up. I had been asking him why he hurt me. So then he grabbed me by the throat with one and and with the other hand he placed over my mouth and nose. He was screaming at me about whiting the fuck up, and I fought to escape. However, he kept hold on me and I remember thinking to myself that women are murdered by abusive spouses. I panicked and realized he was killing me and I couldn't breathe. I thought I was going to die . The look in his eyes and my vision going blurry. I fought like crazy and he let me go. At many points through the the evening I told him I wanted him out of the house. I told him this again. When he let me go finally I ran for the door, ran up the stairs, and ran like hell in the night down the sidewalk towards the gas station on true corner. This was all between 12 and 2 am. I looked around desperately, hoping the dispatcher I had called had picked up on my location and was sending officers. But they did not show. I stopped running, Joshua had been chasing me yelling my name. I felt conflicted because he was the only one with keys and access to my apartment, and he had threatened to kill my cat before . I gave in and went back with him. His demeanor changed and he was loving and kind and concerned about me. I played along because I was terrified and still trying to figure out a real escape plan. I don't know what he will do if I leave him but I know what he is capable of and I'm scared of him. I was sobbing the entire way back and continued to cry when we got back. I hid in a dark corner in the kitchen with my knees to my chest. He found me and coaxed me out. I played along with his wished and did what he said. He made me lie down on the mattress I told him k needed to take my medicine, and I brought out a Xanax for him. We laid down on the mattress and the xanax totally knocked him out. So right now I'm in the bathroom, hoping he doesn't wake up and discover me here. This is all a very short snapshot of what happened and there is a lot more to what has been happening. Like the fact that while drunk he has grabbed me by the hair and shaken me and grabbed my throat and thrown me on two separate occasions. Or that he kept insisting tonight that I had grabbed him and scratched his head. I kept telling him I didn't and he kept mocking me and my memory of what happened and threatened to call the police and have me arrested. I told him if I scratched him, it was because he was choking the life out of me. He refused to own up and say he did anything wrong. I couldn't get the keys from him and I didn't want him to kill my kitty, so I started to play along and began apologizing like everything was my fault. It calmed him enoutgh to take a Xanax from me and fall asleep so I could come to the bathroom and type this up on my phone. I'm trying to remember as much as possible, but a lot of it is a blur it happened so quickly. The most vivid memory I have of it all was when his hand was squeezing my throat and the other hand over my mouth and nose. He was sitting on top of me holding me down. And realizing he could kill me right then and there and I felt like I was dying. And I felt determined to not succumb but fight back, and I did. I felt very aware that many victims of domestic violence die when they leave or are about to leave their abuser. Right now he is here and asleep. My plan right now is to wait for an opportunity to get away from him. I need finances and support from others. I'm totally isolated from everyone. He is literally the only person in my life. I let go what happened those other times. And it hasn't been just physical. He lies about things to manipulate me, obsesses and protective to the point of overbearing jealousy. He goes through my phone and Facebook to watch me because of his insecurities. He makes up lies about talking about me to people in order to upset and rile me up so he can get my attention when he's lonely or bored. There is so so so much more going on than what Ives divulged here but I don't have enough time yet to write everything. I'm scared, alone, and desperate for help. I know well what abuse is and I also know how hard it is to get out. If you've taken the liberty to read my rambling and rather incoherent story, thank you. I've never been so alone and you are aces.
  4. Trigger warning I have a history of cutting myself. I started doing it when I was 11 and am now 27. Recently when I have self harmed it's been pretty serious. Hospitalization serious. I thought everything was out of my place that I would harm with, then I stumbled upon a self harm tool today. So I used it. I used all my pre-prepared bandages and everything. I'm disgusted with myself at how easy it was for me to fall back onto that... all it took was discovering an old tool. This is so difficult because I want to never self harm again yet its such a relief when I do. Now I have to work up the courage and will to get rid of what I just found. Does it ever feel like an uphill battle to get rid of tools for anyone else?
  5. I'm ageeing with everyone else. Definitely a worse tremor when I'm dehydrated or haven't eaten much. It's worse in the morning after I take my meds, It's often slightly less shaky in the evenings. My handwriting is very erratic now. I don't think it's something that goes away, but for me the benefits outweigh the inconveniences.
  6. When I was 20 I came over to my parents house with my then-boyfriend, drunk. My mom helped me change out of my clothes into something else to get more comfortable, and saw the many many scars on my upper thighs/hips. She exclaimed, "What the fuck is this?!" and I was pretty defensive. However, I'd had scars on my arms for some time, and my dad had questioned me about them. I just brushed him off by saying it was nothing and running away. Today, I choose full body swimsuits that have skirts to cover it up.
  7. "Stop mutilating yourself" - ER doctor "What the f*** is this?!" - Mother "Do you have a cat?" - Former boss Once I was working in customer service at a grocery store and a girl that I was helping at the counter asked me if I ever received a lot of questions about my arms. At the time I had a pretty bad burn covered with a bandage and visible old scars all over my arm. The girl showed me her own SI on her arms, and she had to be just a teenager. I told her that people do ask a lot, but I usually tell people it was from my childhood and then redirect the conversation. There was this intense and immediate connection between the two of us, for those brief moments. I've had stitches twice, and each time the attending staff were polite. Each time I was shuffled over to the inpatient ward.
  8. I recently had a suicide attempt by self injury. I chickened out when I hit an artery and it scared me enough to call EMS to help me out. Ever since then, I've had a strong desire to SI and last night and tonight I've carried out on these compulsions. The last time I regularly harmed myself was several years ago... I thought I was done with this stuff. I also have to admit that i've been drinking alcohol and isolating from people: I know I'm going through a depressive episode. Last month I spent a few weeks inpatient... and I don't want to go back there. I'm about to start college later this month and I really need to have it together. I guess I'm just looking to very or some understanding about what I'm going though.
  9. I've been having urges lately to self-harm for the purpose of soothing or feeling something during depression. The last time I regularly self-harmed was when I was in my late teens and I am now in my late twenties. Over the past several years I've self-harmed in isolated incidents fueled by drugs or alcohol. But now I'm sober and wanting to do this! It's frightening me because I thought I was done with this and I've been working so hard because I'm going to school to be a social worker. I can't imagine how I'm fit to help anyone else when I can't help myself from my own self-destructiveness. I think coloring is an excellent idea. I've heard of using a marker to draw the lines on my skin instead of using a tool that would do actual damage. Right now I'm using this message board as a distraction. The more distractions you have as tools, the easier it is to avoid, I think. I also think have time free from self-harm adds to the likelihood of being able to refrain from it. It takes building up that time, though, and is much more difficult when starting to quit again.
  10. Hi there everyone. I was wondering what some of your experiences have been while doing major medication changes at home instead of in the hospital. My pdoc (I adore him) is working to help me stay functional in life and go through this at home, because that is what I wish. He tends to really respect my wishes. He did mention going inpatient. When I checked back in with him a week later, he seemed somewhat astonished that I was still managing my high stress job and was proud of how well I was keeping things together outside of hospital. I'll mention that I didn't make an appointment to see him initially, I just barged into his practice and talked his nurse into getting me in ASAP. However, doc and I really had to talk to some of the side effects that I'm having right now, including confusion (especially while driving), huge memory loss problems, and general zombie-ness. I'm still having difficulty holding on to one thought train at a time. So about 2 1/2 weeks ago, directly after I moved into my new apartment which is a huge step of independence for me considering MI, I started becoming manic with psychosis. I knew what was happening and I started recording things I was experiencing with the hope that I could hold out when the excitement of moving went down. No such luck.... I can look back at that journal and see that I wrote about how I was sitting next to and talking to a girl while we watched a movie on Netflix, and then discovered she wasn't there anymore. One night I woke up every five minutes screaming with night terrors. I heard someone talking to me constantly about my cat and where I should and shouldn't let her go and if I should pick her up, etc. I barely ate once a day, I wasn't sleeping more than 2-3 hours a night, and I spent a lot of this obsessively cleaning and organizing everything I own. One day I spent 8 hours non stop cleaning. I ended up missing 3 days of work but managed to save my job. But there was no euphoria with any of this energy... I was irritated as all hell and had a hard time interacting with clients at work anymore so I spent more time cleaning at work! Honestly, right now I still want to clean and organize things. It just feels good. Does anyone else think cleaning while manic feels amazing? Still trying to stabilize. Pdoc added 10 mg olanzapine and upped my lithium to 1200 from 900. Also put me on clonazepam 1mg 2x per day. Still on buproprion but taking one less per day. Let's just get this stable cause guys, I'm in tears I'm terrified of the crash coming after this. I don't remember the last time I experienced a manic episode this severe.
  11. I do yoga at home and occasionally at one place that I've become familiar with. At home it's every day/every other day for about 15 minutes to an hour. Sometimes I look up videos on Youtube and follow, Usually I freestyle it and just stretch and flow with some basic postures that I've memorized from class. The important thing to me is meditation and concentration during the process. It's just as much a mental exercise as physical. The physical benefits take awhile to notice, but it's great for my body and as gentle or hard as I make it. I'm not going for the amazing impossible postures ya see on magazines, either. It's not about that. Mentally, I always feel as though I'm releasing pent up negative emotional energy. It's really stimulating and opens up different energy centers (if you believe in that kind of thing) but for no other explainable reason I've gone away from many yoga classes and sat in my car and bawled my eyes out - in a good way. It just felt that good to get it all out, if that makes any sense. As for going to a studio, I'd look for one that offers a beginner's course. That's what I did and it was small, the teacher was great. Good yoga instructors show students all the varieties of a posture so everyone can do it. Also, more importantly, the breathwork that I've learned is really helpful for my state of mind. Yoga is about concentrating the mind. In that regard, it's helped me with daily mindfulness which in turn helps me regulate my moods. Going to class helps me get out instead of isolating as I'm wont to do. It helps me feel "cleansed" and energized. It's a way for me to channel negative energy - sweating it out in a yoga class with intense concentration and full awareness of every aspect of my body... it's just incredibly intense at times. It teaches me about how I get upset or disappointed with myself in irrational ways. The hardest part was getting to that first class - I completely understand the socially terrifying aspect. It took a lot of bravery and pushing myself and wasn't easy. I'm okay to go to one place now, and I want to try out other places, but it's going to be the same difficulty getting into a new one. Also, no one will be paying much attention to you in yoga class except occasionally the instructor. They will be focused on themselves. Find a spot in the back All in all, asana (physical postures) increases the quality of my body and mind, but it's the yogic philosophy and way of living that have benefited me the most. It's not for everyone, but it's worth giving a beginner's course a shot if you've got an open mind.
  12. Thank you Wingless, Doge, Titania. Thank you so much. Thank you for sharing your story... seeing this, you are so incredibly inspiring. Where you've been, how you've made it through and healed. Finding a friend to trust. You are amazing. Titania there is so much truth to your advice about cutting things off completely. It is the best advice, and absolutely correct, and I'm not currently following it. I haven't cut all the little strings... he still messages me. The other day he messaged me to ask if I was going to pay him back the $200 he loaned me two years ago when I needed help on rent. He's off and on asked me for it in the past and also told me I don't need to pay it back to him. This time, after I exploded on him, he told me I didn't need to pay it back!!! Now I just want to send him a money order so he'll never ask me for it again. I told him to take me to fucking court over it or leave me alone. So much anger. You are so right, I have to completely cut him off. Also, I want to apologize about rashly labeling him "sociopath". It was an insensitive expression of anger from me and I have no right to diagnose others, no matter how I feel about their behavior or personality.
  13. A gal with schizoaffective in my therapy group has a great sense of humor. I loved listening to her talk today, she makes my whole spirit light up.
  14. I can really relate to what everyone has said so far. When I was a little kid, what I thought was guilt was actually anxiety. Of course it was probably guilt causing anxiety, but I didn't know that "anxiety" was a thing. So I would usually confess whatever I thought my "sins" to the adults hoping that those feelings would go away. This had bad results and the bad feelings of wouldn't go away. It's definitely the unpleasant feeling in the gut that pangs into the chest. Sometimes it comes in waves in my chest. Are there actually physical things happening to our organs during anxiety? Is it psychosomatic?
  15. 1/2 hour walk to bus stop - to 1.25 hour yoga class - 1/2 hour walk home from bus stop. Showered, ate food... THEN 1/2 hour walk to bus stop - to hour therapy alumni group - 1/2 hour walk home from bus stop. I'M FEELIN' IT!!!!!!
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