T - 24 - schizoaffective disorder - ptsd - anxiety. I'm using this blog as an outlet, a digital diary if you will. I'm not very positive, and there might be triggering posts. “I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.”― Edgar Allan Poe
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Time for people
Wow, it's been a few days. Time flies so fast. It's funny, right? Every day feels agonizingly long and dreadful, but then suddenly it's been almost 5 months. In about 7 months I'll be 25, whaaat! This is going to be a long post, so I'll put this on here to avoid spamming.
Anyway, I've been having some urgent sessions with my psychologist, which have helped. I also saw my doctor last Thursday, which I've been waiting for, for like 2 months. She couldn't do much though, which I guess I already knew. I have to wait until I've taken the MRI, which is tomorrow. I've waited over 2 months for that as well. Thankfully my doctor wants to see me again in a week, so it feels like she takes me seriously. She had me take an EKG as well, which showed that my heart is perfectly fine - and that was exactly what I needed. I've barely (if at all) had issues with panic since then. Which, oh my god, is such a relief. I still feel myself being unable to go anywhere without my pill box of benzos. But right now I don't mind. I've always thought of them as a comfort, you know? I don't take them just to take them (sometimes I do, but rarely), I rather have them as an emergency solution if my situation gets unbearable.
This weekend we've been extremely busy. We packed half our stuff (stress) and drove to my hometown (where we're moving), and got the keys to our new house. Which I'd been dreading a little, as I get anxious and stressed easily and imagined it involving a lot of talking and practical stuff. But it went rather quickly! We just had a look around to check that they'd cleaned well, and so on. The seller also gave us gifts, which was really nice. THEN the rest of the day was rather eventful.
My family brought a lot of our new furniture (which we'd stored at theirs) and oh my god, my family is so great and extremely helpful. While getting things into the house and organizing, our next-door neighbour came around the corner with her 15-month old son. We talked a little, and she was really nice. She did, however, ask about my occupation regarding work etc. I answered vaguely, but said that I wasn't working right now. I don't have a problem telling people I'm on disability, I just casually focus more on the fact that I have prolapse in my lower back, instead of the fact that I have a severe psychiatric diagnosis. We'll talk more in the future.
My dad and I drove and picked up the big furniture, and I was a little stressed about it, but it went really well. The rest of the day we just put together furniture and it took a long time. I took a few breaks here and there, but it didn't drain me like it did when we moved last time (mostly because of the fact that I was on antipsychotics at the time). The neighbour across from us from our terrace knocked and said hi, which was very nice! I have been a little anxious about it afterwards though, because I fear that I might have appeared rude and/or not welcoming, but my partner assured me I was fine. We went home at around 9.30 pm I think, after starting the whole ordeal at about 4 pm. However, right when we were about to leave the house, the neighbours across the street said hi. They're a couple our age, and I sorta know her from before; mutual friends. They were super nice, and I have a feeling we'll be good friends. They also have such a cute dog.
I took sleeping pills (not addictive at all), and one benzo before bed, and slept well. The next day we started early, but that day my brother (who was super helpful) had to work. We got so much done, so much more than I expected! We also went to stores and bought some more detail-oriented stuff, and practical stuff. Curtains, towels etc. Oh, and the coolest book-shelf ever. We also bought all the tecnhical stuff; fridge, washer, dryer, which will arrive on Monday (thanks for picking it up, mom!) While my partner and I sat outside and put up our outdoor furniture, our next-door neighbours came around. The little boy was so very fascinated with the screws and building, and slowly came closer and closer. It's nice that he feels safe around us. He did not want to go back home at all. It was so very cute.
We finished most of the living room, bathroom, bedroom (it's amazing), terrace, kitchen etc. My partner and I stayed a little longer and packed out and organized some of the stuff we brought from our current apartment, but we were exhausted and didn't do all of it. We went back to my parents' earlier that day, and just had a nice dinner and relaxing evening with talking and TV. We also bought a few nice things for them (and my brother) to thank them for all the help. I took the same cocktail, and slept well.
On Sunday we just chilled, looked at lamps and stuff online. We drove back to our apartment at around 2 pm. Did just about nothing productive the rest of the day. I only took the non-addictive sleeping pills before bed, but slept really well. I was also barely dizzy last night (and the weekend in general), which felt amazing. Maybe my psychologist is right, and it's caused because of stress? I really fucking hope so. The next few days we're just packing up, having some of my family picking up the big furniture from here, and then we're moving. Apart from a few appointments tomorrow and Thursday, I have a lot of time for packing.
I dreaded the thought of being awfully stressed and the whole shabang, but I feel eerily calm. I'm also so fucking excited to actually move in properly. Not everything is ready, but we have all we need to live there. It's just a few things we need to get in order, but there's no rush. The only thing I'm afraid of, is that the neighbours won't like me, but hey - I'll just do my best and be myself, and we'll take it from there. I'm definitely gonna be approachable, because that is actually the way I am. I love our neighbours, and I'm 100% sure this is a great thing.
I don't know if I've written about it here, but I go to treatment at a specialized place for people with severe diagnoses (schizophrenia, bipolar etc), and I will continue to go there. Which means travelling back and forth every two weeks (about 3 hours travel time both ways), but it's worth it.
I can't begin to describe how excited I am to begin this new chapter. We officially move in on Friday, and I hope the days fly by fast. I hope to make some good friends (which I really think will happen), and just... relax, I guess. I feel safe and calm there.
Anyway, this has been a super long post. If you've read everything - you deserve a golden star! I need to go pack a little now, but I'll be back soon enough.
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If you need someone to talk to, just message me or send an ask :-)
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You don’t need to have all the answers right now.
Books - http://debbietung.com/books
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Sleep forever
Everything's been a bit better these last few days, but oh my god does my life still suck. If I'm not anxious/in pain/panicking, my tension-pains are fucking up my entire body. I spend a long time each morning cracking up my body. Every time I move, something cracks. It's painful. My jaw is always the place it hits first, but the past few weeks it's moved to my whole face as well. The pressure on my forehead is so intense, it feels like my brain is expanding and about to crack my skull open. Every part of my body is tense and in pain. Fuck this.
I didn't take any pills on Saturday (win), but I took valium last night after trying to sleep for a while. I just couldn't stand it. I've had a rule not to take anything before a therapy session, but fuck it. Didn't take anytihng after I woke up, though. Saw my psychologist at 1 pm, and it went well. As I expected I cried a lot, and I was super anxious, as well as rambling a bit. But she's great, and she helped me understand a little more, and see the connection between things. She also supports me having valium available for crises, and she would talk to my psychiatrist tomorrow about it (as I didn't have time last session with him). I felt a little better as we were talking, and she also noticed it.
For a while now we've only had session every other week, as I was generally better (before everything fell apart), but she really wanted to see me again soon. So I'm going back Thursday at 8 am. I don't really mind going that early, as I barely sleep anyway.
I'm also seeing my doctor on Thursday at 9.30 am. She sent me a message earlier, wanting me to write down everything that I need help with/talk about, to make it easier for me to sort it out, instead of rambling incoherently. So much is happening in my head, that I struggle with actually talking about it when I should. So I'm going to do that later.
On a more positive note; we're officially taking over our new house on Friday! I have a fucking house, we have a fucking house. We're not moving in till the week after that, though. So much has to be done, and all of this is of course source of much of my stress, but I'm also very excited. The only thing that sucks about moving, is that I'm having to travel further to get to my psychologist. But I refuse to start over at a new place, with new people, my current psychologist is the best one I've ever had, and I don't want a new one. She's on board with the whole thing, and we're gonna have both physical and online sessions. I think it will work out fine.
Now I just need to address this dizziness thing and all of that, hopefully my doctor will have some answers. My blood work was fine, by the way.
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Currently at my parents' house, getting ready for the funeral tomorrow. Yesterday my misery reached it's absolute peak. I had a horrible day, horrible evening, and a horrendous night. I won't get into detail, because holy fuck. But I've felt terrible so fucking long now. I didn't sleep, which is fucking scary because of my risk for going psychotic again. I clung onto the fact that I was seeing my psychiatrist today. But it didn't go the way I hoped. The one thing that triggers me the most has been constant all day. Except for a mere 2 hours after taking valium. Then it fucking hit me again like a ton of bricks.
My favorite thing in the world is car-rides, so I've been looking forward to us driving here today. But it was utter shit. I was so anxious I felt like I was gonna explode. I told my mom in advance that I'm having a hard time now, and that we'll be leaving sooner than planned. I've brought so many pills with me; benzos/sedatives, sleep medication etc. All in order to survive.
But I'm feeling so horrible, and all I want is to down pills and sleep. I probably will soon.
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My flaws burn through my skin
As per usual, I'm in a ranting mood. Yesterday was horrible. I'm so angry all the time now, and I try not to unleash the fury onto my partner, but I can't always stop myself. We went out for a ride, as that usually makes me feel better. But for so many years now I've been unable to "live in the moment", I always think about the next thing that's gonna happen, and that means I can't enjoy anything at all.
I guess it's kind of a rough patch right now, all because of me of course. He's so great, but I'm not grateful, and I fear I'm pushing him away. He's stated several times that he'll never leave, that I'm the only one for him. It's funny because a part of my illness is that I don't feel like a real person, not human at all actually. I've felt like this since youth, but it evolved into a delusion. Anyway, the funny part is that he says that I'm the only one who seems like a real person to him.
They say first love never die, and I've always been perplexed by that. I don't think about my previous love interests at all, and definitely not my ex who I was with for almost 2 years and lived with. But then it hit me; I never loved any of them. I thought I did, but no. I honestly don't care what happens to them, and to be even more honest; I hope they're miserable. Like me.
I did love (I think) someone, though. A guy I met a few years ago. I fell head over heels, and god did it hurt. He didn't want me, he just wanted me around. To talk to, to complain to at night when he was either high on pills, or going through withdrawal. I was younger and very naive. I thought I could make him love me if I just stuck around and was available. But it never happened. I was stupid. I would've done everything for him, but his only love and interest was drugs.
He ruined my life by introducing me to a world of escaping pain. I went psychotic shortly after meeting him, actually. I was admitted, and suddenly I got access to the same kind of pills he was abusing. Now I'm addicted to an extent myself. I also experienced a severe trauma that still haunts me. It went downhill from there. I dropped out of school, lost my social life, isolated and was chemically drugged up. I lost everything. In 2018 I was admitted again, for 10 months, I wrote a little about it in a previous post.
I also got into an abusive relationship, but thankfully I got out quickly. I also realized I had nothing there. No one who really cared about me (the city I lived in was a few hours from the ward where I met really good people). I also stopped talking to him, but not by choice. I just stopped making an effort, and so did he. As far as I know he started abusing another drug, more harmful. He could be dead now, I wouldn't know. I do think about him still, as I will always have a place for him in my heart. But he does not deserve it at all.
I'd say I love my fiance, but it's not the same kind of love. I don't know how to explain it. I do however have trouble feeling those kind of feelings, all kind of feelings. I find it hard to distinguish what I'm actually feeling, and lots of times it comes out as anger. I've had problems with feeling love, empathy and compassion since I was very young. I guess I've just always been a cold person. It could have something to do with the fact that I've been depressed most of my life, and I've always been stuck in my own head. Sometimes I look at it objectively, and I don't like that I'm like that. But most of the time I don't care. That's what it's about - I don't care.
I know I have some sociopathic traits, but I'm not "full-blown". I think it's a mixture of things. I like my friends, but I wouldn't care if anything happened to them. I wouldn't like if anything happened to my immediate family, but I would get over it. The only person I can't stand the thought of losing is my fiance. But is it love, or because I need him? Is it both? I don't know. I think it's love, I fucking hope it is.
The thing that's made me want to get this out is that my grandma (I've lost my other grandparents) died not long ago. The funeral is tomorrow. I didn't feel a thing. Nothing. It's more of an inconvienience. It sounds fucking horrible when saying this out loud, but I have to. I've talked a little bit about my lack of feelings to therapists over the years, but I need to dig deeper because of what's happened now.
I'm not a bad person. I'm a person who's experienced a lot of bad things. There's a difference.
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