frickfrackitback - Tumblr blog

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Hey, if you’re a paranoid person, probably best to pass this post up.

Anyway, the incorrect thing to do when talking to a paranoid person is tell them you hired someone to watch them.

That’s so rude and I don’t miss that about ya.

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Such a cutie 🥰

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Leaving me completely alone after an unresolved argument is a sure fire way to lose me forever (I’m going to kill myself)

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I don’t feel like a confident woman in complete control of her body. I feel like a demon piloting an achy old bitch.

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I’m so fucking excited for this sweater!!

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Happy birthday

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I’m excited to share the newest member of the family…

No name yet, but we’ll figure it out soon.

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What are we hallucinating today folks? I’ve been hearing music in white noise for a couple of days now.

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I had to stop letting my dog sleep in my bed with me because I wake up at night as he kicks me to reposition himself. But now I feel this separation anxiety and I fear something awful will happen if we don’t sleep in the bed together.

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Idk which of my mental illnesses or personality disorders is causing the constant barrage of intrusive thoughts and thoughts that don’t feel like my own, but I’m going back on antipsychotics.

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Thank you, Vraylar+antidepressant commercial, for reminding me to take my meds!

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Why the fuck should I give up? Why should I stop trying because she doesn’t see how she could help me? I have ideas, so why not try them? If I show her that I can help myself, will she try to help me too?

Why shouldn’t I let her go? Jeffrey is gone, Charles is on his way out; shouldn’t Claudia be allowed to walk away as well? It’s a slow bleed, but at least I’m dying.

I feel myself pulled in two directions. I’m trying to stand perfectly still and I’m being absolutely fucking yanked by both arms. There’s nothing I can do but stand still. I mean, I can cry. And I do cry a lot. But really it’s just waiting. I guess I have hope that it will get better… that’s what I told Claudia at our last appointment anyway. And I can feel it, hope that life will let go of my god damned arms, but I don’t act on it. I’m not going to get anywhere by just standing here, but how can I walk away from my arms?

My therapist is giving up. She said she doesn’t think therapy is helping me.

Today she sat quietly, listening to my stories about what’s new, and at the end of our time, she told me I need more help than she can give me. She wants to help me, sure. But she can’t. So it’s time to stop trying, I guess.

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My therapist is giving up. She said she doesn’t think therapy is helping me.

Today she sat quietly, listening to my stories about what’s new, and at the end of our time, she told me I need more help than she can give me. She wants to help me, sure. But she can’t. So it’s time to stop trying, I guess.

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A common delusion I have that I forgot to mention in the last post is the steadfast belief that no one will believe me when I seek treatment for my psychosis. After knowing my med provider and my therapist for years, and receiving treatment from them, getting to know them, and all that jazz, I’m still afraid they’ll call me a liar. I’m afraid they’ll tell me I’m making it all up for attention, as if that’s not a reason to seek treatment on its own. I’m so terrified to speak up about what I’m going through because it feels unreal and I can’t believe anyone would care, let alone believe me.

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I stopped posting and started saving as drafts despite no one reading my blog because I’m terrified I’m under surveillance. I’m so symptomatic rn it’s fucking unreal. In my head, I’m someone completely different. I’m living a different life in a different world. My antipsychotics have to be out of my system by now, and ultimately this is what I wanted, but it’s not right. I didn’t think I’d actually become severely delusional. The hallucinations could come at any time. But I’m waiting. Three months without meds and I’ll be fully back to myself. Then I can restart my healthcare and know, with certainty, what my symptoms actually are. But I’m lost… floating. Waiting around for Charming to come rescue. But no one is coming. I need to keep my head out of the clouds, but my dreams seem so real and it’s like we’re really together. I’m obsessed and it helps me keep going. But in reality it’s all radio silence and escapism.

Getting these thoughts out of my head is the first step in another direction I’d like to travel. The idea is to record myself talking, instead of journaling. I want to be able to see my behavior as well as getting a more raw feel for my stream of consciousness. This would be beneficial when I restart treatment, since I’d be able to review my entries and look for symptomatic behavior or psychotic episodes. Writing with a pen would also be good to see what comes out when I can’t erase mistakes. My blog is going to be important in my recovery (if I make it that far) but it’s harder to get a clear sense of what was happening in my brain while I was writing and editing (that’s the real issue- after I edit for clarity, I am hiding some of myself) whatever I ended up posting.