Mind-Blowing Bouts of Crazy Delusional Thinking

So I'd like to take some time to discuss old issues. Old, delusional issues.

A nice way to combat insecurity and feelings of being judged is with arrogance. That's what I did when I was delusional and my delusional world wasn't going my way. I just decided that I was better than everyone else. I was better than all those mean, cruel, imaginary people.

So I combat feelings of insecurity about being delusional with arrogance. What happens is, first I get mad because other people don't understand what I experienced. Than I realize that what I experienced was so mind-blowing it would be really difficult for other people to understand who haven't experienced it. Then I take pity on them, them poor folk who haven't had their minds blown by intense bouts of crazy delusional thinking.

The thing about being delusional is, or at least one of the things about being delusional is, it isn't pure insanity. There is rationality too. Delusional thoughts and actions rest on the rationality.

Actually, I don't know if I've written about this before, but I'm going to write about it again anyway. One of the things they ask you is "why you?" Why are you the special messiah or whatever? Well, it has to be someone. You've been given this great responsibility, and you must follow through with your spiritual mission. For a long period of my life I hardly even talked. I didn't even trust myself to speak. I needed to learn to trust myself. To trust myself above other people.

I kind of think people thought I was more out of it than I actually was. When I was first becoming delusional, I was writing on my livejournal. I knew full well that writing certain things made me look crazy as fuck. I didn't care. I didn't realize that what I was doing was very dangerous. I didn't realize how important it was to my parents that I appear sane and reasonable, and that they could follow what I was saying and understand what I was talking about.

My dad deleted part of my livejournal because of it. I'm over it now but I still think it's kind of weird. True, I was a bit messed up in the head, but I knew what I was saying. I mean, I had some idea what I was saying, it came out sounding a lot more crazy than I intended but it doesn't really matter. I knew full well that repeatedly addressing this one guy and acting like he was reading when as far as anyone could tell he wasn't made me look like I had lost my marbles. The thing was, I didn't even want to say the stuff I was saying. I was pushing myself very hard to say the stuff I was saying. It took guts to say the stuff I was saying. I was proud of myself. To repeatedly act like this guy was reading when there was no sign that he was reading, to spew religious and God related bullshit when I came from an atheistic family.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

A Dark Abyss

So I've already made a post today but I feel like writing another one. This one will probably not make very much sense to a lot of people.

With me there are a lot of emotions associated with facebook. At times it has been an abyss of negative emotions, where I would swim in a very dark kind of negativity that made me suicidal.

I am not suicidal right now, I was just messing around on facebook and I was thinking about this.

There was a time when if someone made any sort of comment about someone being creepy on facebook, I would go into the closet and cry. Then I realized that my circumstances were different. Still, the paranoia about what other people would think eats me up.

There was a time when I couldn't even go on facebook. Then there was a time when I could, but I couldn't directly look at my friends list. I would refresh my profile page many times, hoping that certain people would show up as one of the six friends of mine it showed, because that's how facebook worked at the time.

I'm not sure why I am so weirdly facebook sensitive. That's just how our culture has evolved I guess. I shouldn't care who still has me as a friend. But I do. It means a lot to me to see that I am still friends with people. And for the people who don't still have me as a friend who might know about me and my issues, it really bothers me. I don't know what the reason was. But if it has anything to do with my delusional issues or something I did or said while I was delusional, then I'd like to say that I hope all your children die of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.

Because it is so much of a struggle just keeping myself together because I am torn about with regret about everything. It's not because I'm bipolar. But I feel embarrassed all the time. Sometimes I am okay, but sometimes I just keep thinking about things that make me embarrassed and anything and everything makes me embarrassed, and it is like being tortured with electric shocks. And then when I am not thinking about things that make me embarrassed, I have this nagging feeling like there is something I should be thinking about that I should be feeling embarrassed about, and then I feel embarrassed, and I feel the electric shock feeling, even though I am not even thinking about anything.

As time goes by it gets easier to deal with and I develop more and more of a cushion that cushions me from feeling embarrassed all the time. But I don't forget things easily, and I will always remember the things that contributed to my deep horrible feelings of insecurity. And I will remember who didn't have me as a friend.

I don't really know why I even care though. I just think it is insensitive the way certain people are. And I know that this is my paranoia talking, because I am jumping to conclusions about why people did certain things.

I hope that I will one day rise above the insecurity and be happy being who I am, and all these negative feeling will just be a memory.

A Love/Hate Relationship

So it's weird because I take the same dose of Adderall everyday. Normally I will feel its effects, and I will feel a little buzz or high. It's happened a couple of times recently where for several days in a row I won't feel its effects hardly at all. Then, after not feeling it for a few days, I will take it the next day and it will effect me stronger than normally like I haven't been taking it for several days. Except I have been taking it, I take it everyday. So anyway, that's what I'm experiencing right now. I feel it in my system more than normal, which makes me feel a bit thoughty but not excessively thoughty, but above all it makes me feel like writing.

So my brain is swimming with happy chemicals right now. And I find myself contemplating things that annoy me. I'm not really angry though, I'm just thinking about these things. When I found out I was moving to this other house for a couple months, I was given a few reasons why, and I was also told that seeing a guy who is a Scientologist doesn't help matters. Also, when my mom left to go home a couple weeks ago after visiting me, she left a note telling me to do my own thinking. She meant she doesn't want this Scientologist guy corrupting my thinking.

I'm annoyed with people trying to control me. I am going to see who I want to see. And I really don't give a flying fuck if Innercept approves or not. I don't like Innercept. I don't think it is helpful. I think it is evil. So them not approving of what I do doesn't mean shit to me.

And it's funny what my mom wrote because if I didn't think for myself, I wouldn't be seeing this guy to begin with. I would have thought Scientology = Bad and that would have been the end of it. Because that's what the common conception is about Scientology.

And now I'm sitting here thinking about my mom, and how it's strange that she thinks she has some sort of influence over what I do. I really can't pinpoint exactly what my mom has done to make me so angry at her. The details escape me but the angry energy is still there. It's a number of things. Her general ignorance. Her excessive amount of trust in the Innercept program. My mom has faith in Innercept like Christians have faith in Jesus.

Talk about someone who doesn't think for herself. She has blind trust in doctors. She believes what psychics tell her, even when the same psychic has told me things that contradict what they told her. That's a whole other topic though, psychics.

The thing is though, I love her because she is my mom. And as much as I disagree with what she does, I know that my parents do love me and that's why they do what they do, because they think it is what's best. And I know that having loving parents is something that not everyone has and is easy to take for granted, especially in my situation. It's the kind of thing most people don't appreciate until it's gone. You don't know what you had until it's gone. I do have a lot. I have the necessities and I don't even have to work. Except I want to work. I want to be independent.

But anyway, this is why I can't say that I hate my parents. Because that is what ignorant bratty children say.

Arrested and Taken to Innercept's Prison

So, Innercept requires that I have 20 hours of scheduled work/school/volunteer activities. For awhile I only had about ten. Innercept recently found this out. They also knew that I had missed the psychiatrist appointment they had forced me to schedule at a time I knew I wouldn't remember, and that I had missed a therapist appointment because I had forgotten about it. Therefore, Innercept decided I should go to the Innercept prison.

It was Halloween a couple weeks ago on a Wednesday. I was headed toward the Kroc Center for a thrilling afternoon of working out and downloading music, and to drop off an application to be a Salvation Army bell ringer. I didn't make it even halfway there, however. My efforts were Innercepted by the Innercept prison vehicle. I saw them pull up in a parking lot, and Kurt motioned for me to come over. Not knowing what was going on, I went over. Kurt and Dave told me to that due to my recent slackings, I was going to stable, the Innercept prison, for a week.

This was horrible news, as I never in my life wanted to go back to the Innercept prison. At first, I was compliant, and I got in the vehicle and they drove me back to my apartment to pack my stuff. My head was swimming because I knew the next week was going to be horrible. I didn't know what to pack. I couldn't pack with my head swimming like that.

Once back in the car on my way to the Innercept prison, I knew that I couldn't just go along with this. I had to fight. So when we got up to the cabin out in the middle of nowhere, I told them that I wasn't getting out of the car. Kurt tried to intimidate me by using is intimidating "I'm not fucking around you better get out of the car voice" but I didn't let it get to me. They could do whatever. I wasn't getting out of the car.

Next, violence ensued. I was pushed out of the car and my face was slammed in the gravel, they pinned me down and removed my shoes and twisted my arms in odd painful positions and then carried me into the cabin. I tried to leave. They pinned me to the floor again. I tried to leave again. They pushed me to the floor again and pinned me down and told me they were going to drug me with a zyprexa shot. I started crying and I was lying there pinned to the floor crying for quite awhile.

See, it was written in my aftercare plan that if I miss twenty hours two weeks in a row I get a week's reboot at IT. The thing was, this was not IT, this was stable. Innercept tried to excuse it saying that IT was in the process of moving therefore I couldn't be sent there. But it doesn't work that way. The paper I signed said IT, not stable.

Eventually I calmed down, then one of the Innercept nurses who was there decided to piss me off by saying something and I got upset again and started crying again and after awhile I calmed down again.

What ensued after that was a week of feeling bored and restless and angry and pissed off at everyone and everything. I would wake up in the morning feeling angry and I would have to immediately take my meds and count on Adderall to give me a fake happy feeling that counteracted the anger, at least for a little while. Stable is such a therapeutic environment in that way. Sarcasm.

Anyway, they decided to keep me there for fucking ever and made me miss school and they wouldn't let me study for my physics test. I was absolutely shocked that I got a 72 on it. I mean, that I got a 72 instead of a 32 or something substantially lower. They had me raking pine needles and constantly complaining that I wasn't putting enough muscle in it when I was putting as much muscle as I could do that was sustainable.

Anyway, so I am out now, and my parents in their undying love for Innercept think that I am the problem so they moved me to a different place for the next couple months. They moved me to the Innercept girl's aftercare house, which is for people who just got out of transition and don't actually have an apartment to move into, not for people who need more "structure." There isn't any sort of structure. But my parents, especially my mother, love Innercept and think that their daughter owes her life to Innercept. That is the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard, Beev. I would still be alive if it weren't for Innercept. You would not have kicked me out of the house. I would not have run away. Any suicide attempts would have been unsuccessful. I would be living at home and you would be a million dollars richer.

So instead, my parents decide to spend extra money to have me living in a different house where I have one housemate who is gone all day. And I don't want to say that I hate my parents, because that makes me sound like an immature teenager. But I am not exactly loving them right now.

Lucid Dreams and Novel Ideas

So I was awake for a period of time last night. I would blame withdrawal from the benzos again but I remember it was like this before I started going off Klonopin. So, after being awake for awhile, I drank some chamomile tea, ate a banana, and moved my pillows to the opposite end of the bed and lied the opposite direction. Eventually, I fell back asleep.

I actually think one of the careers I would find most rewarding would be to be a novelist. Like, a popular novelist like J. K. Rowling or Stephen King who write books that people are obsessed with. To be able to write a story that people found so compelling would be awesome. Except, as I've said before, I can't come up with fiction worth shit while I'm awake. I come up with what I think are compelling story lines in my dreams but never remember them once awake. Except for last night. I don't know if this concept is any good or not, but I was thinking it was in my dream and I remembered a lot of it once I woke up.

So I will just talk about the whole dream. It was lucid. It started out where I was at my parent's house and I wanted to leave. My parents would follow me once I left the house but I could escape them. Running away from my parents in my dreams is an exceptionally common theme for me. Actually being able to escape is not.

I was living with this guy who was maybe in his early forties. He used me for sex but gave me a place to stay and I was okay with this. We were supposed to be having sex, but it wasn't really one of those hormonal type dreams so the sex wasn't real exciting, but the guy was naked. I saw his torso from the front and he was a little bit overweight but not by that much. Then he turned around. Attached to his back was this gigantic fetus. I found this so disturbing that I left this guy right away, despite the fact that I wasn't wearing a lot of clothing. It is common for me to walk around in public in dreams without a lot of clothing.

So my mom was after me again, and I had to escape her. I could do this by shooting straight up in the sky really high, up past layers of clouds, and then landing down somewhere on the ground completely different. I think I might have also been shooting at her with something or hitting her with a stick. I think I stayed with another guy for awhile and then had to leave.

So I shot straight up in the air again, and I was looking down at the city, deciding where to land. I decided to land in the seedy red light district part of town. I could tell it was the red light district because of all the red light radiating out from it. When I made this decision, I knew that it was probably a poor decision because I was likely in for more than I had bargained for. Cities in my dreams, real big dirty cities with crime and stuff, when they appear in my dreams, there is a strong feeling of evil associated with them, like this is where evil and the dark side of humanity dwells. And I had a sense that coming from a wealthy suburban family who loved me, I was sheltered from this side of humanity and perhaps not prepared to deal with it. But I made the decision to land there and did anyway.

The next thing you know I was woken up by policemen. I had apparently been unconscious. I had been knocked unconscious by a gang of men who had sexually assaulted me. But they had done more than just that. They had implanted a chip in me which recorded my sexual memories/sexual experiences and broadcasted them to the gang of guys somehow. Because I was some sort of prostitute or something, and I they knew I was going to have a lot of fucked up sexual experiences, and it brought them some sort of sick pleasure to see them, to be able to experience them themselves in vivid detail. Or maybe it was for them to make money somehow.

There was some sort of government operation going on regarding this and related incidents. I was placed with a group of people who had had similar experiences happen to them. But the government had to be careful what they told me because they didn't know what information the chip would broadcast to the gang of men. So I was in this elevator type thing with a bunch of other people and if I remember correctly they were mostly men, strangely enough. I don't watch a lot of comic book type movies but there was a sense of it being similar to this one movie which I don't remember what it was called where there were a group of superhuman beings with special powers. Anyway, I was informed that because of my incident, I had been given the name Thorazine. In real life, Thorazine is the name of an antipsychotic. However, it is not in the same class of drugs as the other antipsychotics I have mentioned on my blog. Those are Atypical Antipsychotics, so I guess Thorazine would be considered a typical antipsychotic. I'm not sure that's what they are called, but they are an older class of drugs. Thorazine is famous for making people do what's known as the Thorazine shuffle, where they walk like they are drugged because apparently Thorazine drugs you pretty bad. I have never taken Thorazine myself, unless that is what they gave me the night I drank too much seven years ago and was taken to the ER. They injected me with something to calm me down and later my mom told me it was some sort of antipsychotic. My friend who has taken Thorazine said that unlike the atypical antipsychotics Thorazine makes you feel good, and after I was injected with this drug at the ER I felt pretty good and nice and relaxed. Anyway, the people gave me a reason why I was named Thorazine but I don't know that it made any sense. There was a guy there name something like Lepitor. It was a name similar to Lipitor but it wasn't Lipitor. We had some sort of romantic thing going on. As this dream was progressing I was trying to commit to memory everything that was going on and I knew I wouldn't be able to. There was something going on with the elevator like it was falling or something, and I heard the sound of water really loud and I asked what that was but then I woke up because I was trying so hard to collect all this data without waking up that I woke myself up too much. That's the trouble with lucid dreams, I get so excited I wake myself up sometimes.

So anyway, that was pretty much it. It was supposed to be part of a novel in the genre of erotic sci fi or something. It was almost like the dream was purposely trying to give me an idea for writing a novel because right after the part where the police told me about the chip it was kind of like, "Remember this! This is an idea for a novel!" But I'm not really sure about this.

A Balance of Chemicals

So I have been trying to get into the ways of the exercise freak again. I worked out early in the morning most of last week and I was reminded that I actually love it, as funny as that sounds. I get up at 5:30 and walk to the gym which is really close by and do the elliptical for 30 minutes. Then, I eat something. Then I have this bad habit of buying an energy drink and drinking that, so I feel all pumped while I do weights. Last week I lost almost 5 pounds.

Trouble is the Klonopin withdrawal has prevented me from working out this week. I worked out Monday but that's it. I've been eating differently, not perfectly but differently, but that's okay because in recent times slight changes in my eating habits cause me to lose weight pretty quickly. But then, for some reason, when I go home to Oregon I don't even necessarily eat more but the weight comes back. Or maybe I do eat more and I just don't realize it.

Klonopin withdrawal has set me slightly off balance chemically. Not to the point where it would be hard to get me back, actually I am sure I will balance out by myself if I just give it time. How it feels though, I don't do the rapid cycling thing but I get a little bit of the low feeling I used to experience before during my downs. And I am reminded what that was like. God, that was like the most horrible thing ever. Not really, I'm sure there are worse things, but it was pretty bad. It is the feeling of being extremely emotionally vulnerable. Someone says something to you, or looks at you the wrong way or something, and you interpret it to mean that they hate you. And then you start thinking, God, everyone hates me, hardly anyone likes me. And rightfully so because I am just a horrible obnoxious person. I never felt this way before I took these medications.

And so I think God, what I have gone through. I have gone through a lot. I didn't even realize that I've gone through so much. Being put in a chemical state where I was emotionally vulnerable at a time when I had so much to be insecure about. It is no wonder I was so fucking suicidal. I thought I had just been being immature. I realized that I don't give myself enough credit.

And then I think about the way that Innercept is and I get so annoyed by how they prescribe prescription drugs like they are nothing. Especially antipsychotics. Now abilify is one thing, I have experience with it and I know it works quite well at pulling you out of a severe emotional funk. But then there is Geodon. I never knew emotional insecurity until I took Geodon. WORST DRUG EVER. No, actually, Seroquel is the worst drug ever. I think it is so weird that they prescribe it for depression. When I took it for a short period of time, it made me feel like absolute shit. But that's not the reason I think it's not good for depression. The reason is because I know that it makes people gain massive amounts of weight. Sure, it might work for depression, if you think that suddenly becoming really heavy is going to help your self esteem.

Anyway, that's all for now.

Kicking the Benzos

So I have decided to kick my benzodiazopine habit. See, I take Klonopin. I used to take 1 mg at night. So I told my doctor I wanted to quit, following the success of me kicking my nicotine gum addiction, so now the doctor has me down to a half a milligram.

Klonopin was something I would take not because I particularly liked it but because it altered my conscious state. I would take it for anxiety, which meant during one of my freakouts about my many issues. I am obsessive and insecure and get overly embarrassed about every single thing. Some of these things are actually embarrassing and some aren't really but I obsess anyway, because I get in these moods where I am just so god damn uncomfortable. And if I think you are judging me based on one of these things that I obsess over, you are going down on my enemies list.

Damn I hate withdrawal symptoms. Plus I realized the other day that adderall was the reason I get so god damned angry sometimes. My sister called me the other day to vent about the things she was angry about. She doesn't do drugs. It made me wonder what her excuse was.

So anyway, I would take this drugs when I was anxious, but by the time they took effect I had usually calmed down. Obviously, because the drugs make you calm. But you know I mean before they take effect.

Then I started taking Klonopin every single day. And it started to feel kind of nice. And then before you know it, I was a benzo addict.

But I thought this was going to be easy, just a minor adjustment to not getting that calm feeling every single night. But now I can't sleep. Or sometimes I sleep better.

I wake up all thoughty and thinking all strangely and funnily about things. I roll around and roll onto the floor with my pillow and lie on the floor. I wander around my apartment. Last night I realized that the common thread between the two nights I couldn't sleep on klonopin withdrawal was that I hadn't drank a lot of caffeine in the afternoon. So I had a few sips of coffee last night. I got tired. Then awake. I had several gulps of coffee. I became even more awake.

I feel all funny sometimes. Sometimes I feel a spiritual vibration.

But that might be the spirits.

[Abrupt Ending]