Talking to One's Self

I would like to take a moment to explain something. This is something that I had to explain to my mom because she didn’t understand. That is, the fundamental difference between talking to yourself, and talking to someone who isn’t there.

I have done the former on many occasions. On so many occasions have I done the former! I have never once in my life lost touch with reality to the point where I did the latter.

When I talk to myself, I move my mouth but I don’t speak out loud. Though, I think sometimes I whisper, or something, because sometimes people can hear it in the other room. At least, they did at one point two years ago.

See, I asked my parents once if it was normal to think like you were having a conversation with someone, even though there wasn’t anyone else there. They said that it was normal. That’s all that talking to yourself is. You are having an imaginary conversation. Sometimes you explain certain things to no one. Like I will explain certain aspects of the delusional experience or the like. Sometimes you rehash things that have happened. This is usually when you are a little more out of it, I haven’t done this in a really long time I don’t think. The difference between talking to yourself and what my parents told me was normal, that is thinking like you are having a conversation with someone, is that with this you move your mouth a little bit to the words you are thinking. That is the only difference. When I have done this, I have always been well aware that there was no one else there. I have been well aware that it was a ONE SIDED CONVERSATION. You never get any sort of responses to anything you say. I repeat, it is no different than thinking like you are talking to someone. Except, you might move your mouth, and you might gesture sometimes.

I hate it how sometimes other people think they somehow know better than me about what’s going on inside my head. I’m the one who spends every moment of every day inside my head. I know what I am thinking. My sister tries to tell me that I was talking to someone who wasn’t there, because I was leaning over in a certain direction and moving my mouth. If I recall correctly, it was less that I was leaning towards someone, and more that I was leaning away from my family to hide it. At any rate, I remember this incident, we were at a restaurant, and this was a time when I was rehashing stuff. So I actually wasn’t even having a conversation.

Why do I do these thing? I do them without thinking about them. They are unconscious. I lose a certain amount of control. I can regain control if I focus on it, but then I will slip back again if I stop focusing on it. That is, if I am somehow excessively wired. These things only happen when I am excessively wired.

Okay, so now I will discuss talking to someone who isn’t there.

I have seen many a person at the psych ward do this. You’ll notice that these are two-way conversations. You can tell that they are two way conversations because the person will say something to no one, pause like they are listening to a response, and then react to whatever it was that was said. Sometimes they will chuckle like the other person said something funny. One time I thought this one lady was about to strip. She started touching her clothes like she was going to take them off and she said, “but the music’s not right.” This lady had children who were older than me. She was an interesting lady, to say the least.

So anyway, this concludes my discussion on talking to one’s self. These are things I don’t do anymore, but it pisses me off when people act like I was once so psychotic.

Going Numb

My rights were taken away six and a half years ago. At the time, this was too overwhelming to think about. So I just went numb. My parents told me it was for my benefit, and I didn't believe them but I accepted this answer. Because, I didn't want to think about it.

Awhile ago I was talking to some people from the program about being sent to psych wards. They told me it was such a diss to be sent to a psych ward, because you are being told you are a danger to yourself or other people. I didn't see it that way, and I wondered why I didn't see it that way. Then I thought about it, and I remembered. In the beginning I did see it that way. The first time I went to the psych ward I was beyond pissed. I was wondering what the fuck gave my parents the idea that this was somehow helpful. I was so fucking pissed I just sat in my room and stared out the window all day long. Which made the psych ward people think I was psychotic. I swear, anyone they will evaluate is "psychotic" according to the people at the psych ward.

But, then I went numb. And I forgot about the notion that if you are in the psych ward, you are supposedly a threat to yourself or other people. And I saw psych wards as an opportunity to connect with interesting people you wouldn't otherwise meet, who were in interesting conditions you wouldn't otherwise see them in. And I grew to fucking love psych wards. But I would never in my life want to go back, at least not as a patient. Never in my life.

So now I am starting to wake back up a little bit. And I am wondering when this is going to end. When am I going to get my rights back? I'm wondering what's going to happen when my parents die. Will I get my rights back then? Or will we have to hire channels in order to channel my dead parents to see what direction they want my life to go in. That would be interesting.

So anyway, I'm trying to work towards income. But my parents are standing in the way of this. I found a class I could take that could teach me web design skills so I could get a job making websites, but for some reason when it comes to things like my future my parents are stingy with their money. But when it comes to things like taking away my freedom, they will spend as much as it takes to do so, because "I'm worth it." Really, that's what they say. "Rachel, you're worth it."

So now all I have to do is wonder around town and apply for any job imaginable, and hope against hope that they will give me a chance despite my lack of employment history. Then, not only will I have income, but I will also be proving my ability to work like an adult. On top of that, I can save up money for this web design class I want to take, so that I can get a job with a little big more income then a job at a fast food restaurant or waiting tables or the like.

But anyway, that's what my life is like right now.

My Life in Treatment: A Brief History (part 2)

So, on with my history of treatment. I was taken to the psych ward by my therapist, and by this time it was February of 2009. When I found out I was being taken to the hospital, I jumped out of the car and tried to run away. I didn’t get very far, as one of the staff and my therapist jumped out of the car and ran me down. This was before I realized how awesome psych wards are.

Yes, psych wards are awesome. You meet the most interesting people there! But that should be the subject of another blog entry.

While I was in the hospital, they switched my meds from an antipsychotic called Abilify to another one called Geodon. I didn’t think this was a big deal at the time. I thought Abilify didn’t do anything, and I didn’t think Geodon did anything either, but my parents and my doctors and everyone else had this belief that if I wasn’t on an antipsychotic all hell would break loose.

I got out of the hospital and that same night, I went to take my meds and there was no Geodon. “That’s okay, it’s not like it did anything anyway!” I said. Then I went to bed, and I started thinking about things and trying to relax. But as time went by I kept getting more and more awake and my thoughts kept getting more and more vivid. And then I realized: I was hypomanic! Wow, something would happen if I didn’t take the meds! Maybe I was bipolar after all!

So I didn’t sleep much, and the next morning I refused my Geodon, because this mania was a new and exciting natural high, it was like the solution to my problem of feeling the need for stimulants all the time. Mania is kind of like being on a stimulant. They took me to stable (where they take people who need some “time off”), I left and started walking down the street, so I was handcuffed and taken by security back to the psych ward.

I refused my meds at the hospital, which was kind of bad because there was a lady there who was talking to herself and stuff and really needed her meds but she wanted to refuse them too. Then I started to realize that mania wasn’t all happy. It was interspersed with random feelings of extreme lowness. While the high feelings lasted longer than the low feelings, the low feelings were pretty annoying.

I stopped refusing my meds and eventually, I was discharged from the hospital. Back to good ole Innercept. My therapist told me I could get transition passes again if I stopped sleeping during the day. And I tried. I really tried. But that Geodon, man, it knocks you the fuck out. I took it twice a day, at night and in the morning. I takes about two hours to hit, and that’s when my eyes would automatically shut. I could try really hard and open them again, but then they would just automatically shut again, all by themselves. Try as I might, I could not keep my eyes open. And when my eyes were closed, I would fall asleep.

I wasn’t the only one who would sleep during the day. Innercept’s solution to this problem: less comfortable chairs. Did I mention that this program is run by geniuses?

They like to grade you at this program, using the stupid 1-2-3 system. Two’s are normal. One’s are bad. Three’s are great. You need a two average to make allowance. They grade you in each quadrant of the four quadrants, which is interesting because one of the quadrants, by definition, is one you can’t be graded in. It’s things other people can’t see, like thoughts, feelings, etc. If other people can see it, it’s in a different fucking quadrant! But them Innercept employees, they’ll slap a one wherever they damn well please. One time I got a one in one quadrant for sleeping during the day, and a one in another quadrant for sleeping during group. I called this redundant one-ing. It was the same nap!

Finally, they stopped giving me Geodon in the morning and gave me a higher dose at night. That’s around the time I started getting manic every single day. By this time I had also been switched from the anticonvulsant/ mood stabilizer Lamictal to the classic bipolar med lithium. At first I thought lithium was great. Then I realized that it was because it wasn’t doing anything and I was just a little manic all the time, but the mania didn’t last. Anyway, then I went on a home visit, drank a lot of caffeine and alcohol at the airport on the plane ride back, got euphorically high, then suicidally low. Back to the hospital. By now it’s June 2009.

These were some great times at the psych ward actually, I met some awesome people. They did some med switcharoos (lithium to Depakote), and after maybe a month I was back in stable at Innercept, then back to the regular part of the program. Week after week I was filling out special requests for transition passes, and I was getting denied (I can’t remember why, too soon maybe). Actually, I think this is when I was facing a little bit of depression and I was apathetic and wasn’t quite taking care of myself, so they were giving me quarters to do things like brush my teeth, do laundry, take showers. I think maybe this was a low point. This is what people always say when they talk about “how far I’ve come.” “Why, we used to have to pay you to take showers!” Anyway.

I got passes finally, got my shit together, took on a hellishly boring volunteer position, started working out like mad, and then about five (yes, FIVE!) months later I was finally in transition. I moved in January 25, 2010. I came down with something. I don’t know what was ailing with me, but whatever it was, it required massive amounts of cough syrup to remedy (this was the highlight of my time in treatment).

Beautiful cough syrup.

More to come...