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I would just like to hear stories and tales about what y'all consider the pinnacle of your most paranoid/psychotic/delusional/manic times. In other words, what was the peak/defining moment for you when you sit down and think "Wow, I was really crazy back then...".

I think the time whenever Stephen Spielberg and I were in cahoots together with Israel waging a psychic war against the nation of Greece was my defining moment. Especially when Spielberg started communicating with me via a bush in the garden. Why Greece? Why Israel? Why Spielberg? Why that bush?Where the hell did it all come from? How did my brain conjure up such an irrelevant delusion?

Now I want to hear yours...

Blackbird x

PS - everyone's free to join in! The manic, depressed, obsessional, psychotic! Come one! Come all!

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I would just like to hear stories and tales about what y'all consider the pinnacle of your most paranoid/psychotic/delusional/manic times. In other words, what was the peak/defining moment for you when you sit down and think "Wow, I was really crazy back then...".

I think the time whenever Stephen Spielberg and I were in cahoots together with Israel waging a psychic war against the nation of Greece was my defining moment. Especially when Spielberg started communicating with me via a bush in the garden. Why Greece? Why Israel? Why Spielberg? Why that bush?Where the hell did it all come from? How did my brain conjure up such an irrelevant delusion?

Now I want to hear yours...

Blackbird x

PS - everyone's free to join in! The manic, depressed, obsessional, psychotic! Come one! Come all!

I deluded myself into believing I had syphillis and was possessed by the devil. Both were false, of course.

I dont even want to go into what the voices tell me to do. Awful stuff.

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It isn't my best, but one of my favorites is when I was found in the back of a car (not my car) talking to my veins (which were outside of my skin).

I dont remember why, or how...but it's definitely one of my favorites.

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Dan,

This is probably a stupid question (again, I just don't know and want to educate myself as best I can) but when you are catatonic do you know it or are you just pretty much out of it?

Thanks!

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Dan,

This is probably a stupid question (again, I just don't know and want to educate myself as best I can) but when you are catatonic do you know it or are you just pretty much out of it?

Thanks!

There tends to be at least some awareness with catatonia. It's actually quite pleasant. The problem for me that finally got me to go to a pdoc was that I couldn't look

after myself and live alone. I still don't know how I got to the pdoc? I was also v disorganised so trying to communicate with her was difficult.

So to answer yr question I know when I am catatonic and it's quite nice (not conscious enough to realise im laying in pools of vomit etc aand dehydrating/starving.

dan

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Looking back, I think my worst moment was the night my best friend had to physically tackle me in my room and wrap me in a blanket to keep me from running barefoot and crazed through the city streets. I was hearing voices, demons, and having very vivid visuals. I was extremely paranoid, thought even he was with Them (which was one reason I was trying to run from him.) I had been on the run from them for weeks and hadn't been able to sleep. I was seeing people behind the cereal boxes and the eyes were everywhere. He tackled me and held me until I cried and eventually stopped fighting. He then took me outside still wrapped in my blanket and barefoot to walk around and look at the stars. At first I was clearly explaining what I was seeing and responded to questions. Later I mumbled incoherently only to the voices and then became mute. I spent the next several weeks on the run, never in one place for more than half an hour so that they couldn't get me. That night, I was terrified but didn't understand that I was crazy, they were all so real. It took another couple of weeks of sleeping an hour everyother day, eating nothing (because I thought I didn't need food) and being somewhat less floridly psychotic to realize that I needed help. Looking back, I think that was my lowest low.

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Seems like I'm the only person around here who has had major depression with paranoid psychosis. Anyhow, I ran away from the mental hospital, believing that there were SWAT teams following me, and every citizen I passed was in on the deal, and also out to get me. Somehow I walked the 10 miles to my house, got in. Then I was in my bedroom in the dark, and I could hear the SWAT team outside my patio door. They were on walkie talkies talking about me, as they crept along my fence with their guns aimed at me, as a helicopter whirred overhead.

I also didn't eat for about a month, and I lost a ton of weight. I was actually quite underweight at that point.

Finally, some friends forced me to return to the hospital. It was the worst day of my life. They finally gave me some Navane to knock out the psychosis.

It makes me wonder why the hell I haven't been on AP's for all these years, because I recently started taking Seroquel, and it has made a very big difference. If someone has had a months-long psychosis like I did... one would think that keeping an AP on board would be a good plan.

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Hmmm.

For me it had to be when my last two psychiatrists were trying to poison me. The hospital had planted cameras in my house to monitor my actions, so I went round and taped over everything that could be a camera. My drugs were poison, and the pdoc had written a code letter to the pharmacy to tell them to give me poison 'bad' tablets rather then good ones so I wouldn't take them. Oh and the hospital wanted to implant a device into me to monitor me.

Yeah. I nearly got myself sectioned.

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Oh shit, I feel at home...

Umm , well, there was nothing wrong with me, of course. My wife was insecure and depressed because her boobs were too small. I was trying to work out how to sneak phytoestrogen tablets into her diet without her noticing (these things are the size of horse pills, and she'd have needed 16 a day, plus they probably don't work). The rest of the family was depressed because she was dragging us all down, so I just needed to get anti-d's from an online pharmacy and put them in everyone's breakfast. The trick was to not to make it obvious that I was making everyone's breakfast every day. And to keep out of the way of the CIA, who were pissed at me for wasting their time when what they thought was a bomb in my luggage turned out to be an alarm clock. The bastards smashed my clock up in frustration when they searched my luggage at San Francisco airport.

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For how long do delusions like these last - hours, days, weeks? From what I can tell, most people with delusions end up doing a pretty good job of "keeping it low key" and people around them don't always see it. So, what was the catalyst to get help?

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For me, several months to a year.

What pushed me over the edge was an argument that came about through frustration that I couldn't solve the breakfast problem. I decided to get it all out in the open and ask her to go get help. She denied there was anything wrong (well she would, wouldn't she?), so I said I would go see the doc to prove there was nothing wrong with me.

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hey blackbird,

this is a toughy, but i guess my most whacked-out moment had to of been last year right before i went to hospital for fourth time. I was hearing all kinds of evil-demonish voices in my head, and i had this delusion that there were three little demon-like people hovering above my left should. This feeling lasted for many days. I believed the voices i was hearing were their voices/thoughts being implanted in my head. I also kept swiping at the air above my shoulder and twirling around to try and get the feeling of their presence to go away.

At this time i I was also having lots of delusions about the government and the "other demensions" and such. And Iwas having lots of bodily-distorted feelings--such as feelings of my hands and arms floating away from me or twisting around, feeling like my head was seperate from my body, or like i was just a pair of eyes floating there, and feeling like my body was all mixed up (like the way a picaso painting looks).

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..thought i'd also add this to help answer DMF's question about catatonia.

I;ve experienced some mild catatonia and durring it, i am pretty aware of it, but i feel far away and dreamy. It only happens when i am real depressed. I'd have episodes of sitting completly still for about 20-30 minutes without hardly blinking or anything. It's hard to remember what was going through my head at those times, if anything at all. Also, i had a period of time a couple years back where i almost didn't speak for about 2 months. I had lots of trouble answering questions. Usually it would take me a minute or so to respond if i did at all.

I guess the best way i can describe the catatonia and innability to speak is like being somehow mentally paralized, if that makes any sense.

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This was what led to and continued through the ER process until they gave me a shot of Zyprexa:

I thought that my med team was trying to use me for animal experiments and torture me, so anytime one came near me I pointed my finger at them, which was a ray gun, and zapped them into outerspace. Then when my mom came up and calmed me down (only partially, I was still kicking and screaming foul things), they took me to the hospital. While waiting (yes, in that status they made me wait for ER admission).

When in the triage, they moved me from my triage bed to let a kid have it, and put me in a room full of medical equipment, like sharp objects and stuff. I tore them open and threw them everywhere, thinking that they had planted a bomb and were trying to read my mind. When my mom stopped me from doing that, she also ordered a dinner tray for me. I'm vegan, so when they brought me meat I threw it at the nurse. They got security. I kicked him (and hurt him- what kind of security agent was he?), and started throwing my guts up. My mom convinced them she could handle me. Then I took the remaining food, and decided that I was playing in a huge tennis competition, and started playing tennis with the hard muffin by throwing it against the wall and batting it with my hands. Mom still said she could manage me, and that they should just let me play wtih the muffin.

They came in right away, gave me a Zyprexa shot, and I don't remember anything from after that until I was in the hospital.

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I thought a see-through man was pacing in the back yard. Then when I was laying down to sleep and two yellow electric legs came from the ceiling, lowered themselves to the floor, turned into a little being and walked into the room where my computer was. I didn't follow it...

lilie

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I remember thinking that I had the answer to the the whole universe, in a four sided dice. I was very excited and was compelled to tell everyone. another time when they put me in an army psy ward, I thought that every male in uniform was my pilot and I would go up to them and as if we were flying today.

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I haven't had many really big hallucinations, but;

Probably a week or two into january this year, I was outside having a cig, probably like 2 am (I'm nocturnal, ahahaha) and I started to hear this music behind me. Unusual, but not exactly impossible, as my house backs onto a park, it was christmasy time, so I turned around to look.

There was a marching band coming up the path. Meanwhile, there's probably 2 and a half feet of snow, on said path. They were all in purple uniforms with yellow details, and had an odd Dr Seuss deformity to their looks. I was positive they'd come to get me, and I was terrified, so I hid in the garage.

It's either that, or the time I was convinced my family were monitoring me, and communicating in a whistle code. That was kind of bizzare.

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