“Haylor”

“Haylor”

I have been trying to write for most of the day but I have been coming up empty. It all started while reading my blogs a few weeks ago and came across a blog entry about a psychotic episode. It happened the beginning of November 2012. I don’t remember it at all but I wrote about it, briefly. Like a few sentences each blog entry. I even tried to see if I wrote about it in my journal and came up with the same thing, nothing. Voldemort was my “best friend” and all conversation ended there. So I have been trying to fill in the blanks but I am not a bullshit artist. I wrote a few sentences more to make the paper 300 words. That was all that this episode amounted to. I really would love to expand this but I have nothing to go on. I even tried writing to my therapist about my difficulties hoping it would spark something and I would get something on paper, but alas, nothing. I just wrote the difficulty of writing and that was all. What I did learn through looking at my old journal was what set off the psychosis, which is interesting. I apparently misplaced my 8GB thumb drive and it was causing me considerable panic. In normal people, they would have a panic attack and that would be it. Not me. I became psychotic and apparently it took the form of Voldemort’s tweets to set me off. I wasn’t taking my anti-psychotic medicine at the time so I was more vulnerable. Losing this thumb drive was my life. Every suicide research article I ever read was on this drive as well as my papers on the subject. It would have been a huge loss and I was just sick with worry. But I did find the stupid thing. It was hidden under some papers and my “life” was saved. I made a few copies of it just so in case I misplaced it again, I would have it.

I did considerable research into trying to find out what the episode was about and if I wrote more about it. I still came up empty. Apparently Voldemort wrote a thing about Taylor Swift, calling her Haylor as she was dating a Harry at the time of the tweet. I have no idea what the last name of the Harry was. I am sure a Google search will probably yield it but I really don’t care. I tried looking back to his tweets from 2012 but they just went as far back as Jan 2013 and stopped there. I was so close to getting what I needed. He was active on his account but slowly tampered off. No wonder I was becoming so paranoid and thinking he was “tweeting me personally”. He would tweet several times a day. And now it’s every few days. Reading over the tweets weren’t triggering for me because I had no recollection of the psychotic episode. The only proof that I have of its existence is my blog and what little I wrote in my journal, which was only three sentences. For the days that I was psychotic, I didn’t write or blog. I probably was too incapacitated. If the psychosis had commanding voices/tones, I probably was too paranoid to put pen to paper for fear of being persecuted. And the last thing you want to do is piss off is a dark wizard. He might have been make believe to everyone, but for a few days, he was real to me.

The reason I was interested in finding the tweet about Taylor was because he “made me” listen to her songs after the tweet. It usually doesn’t take much for me to listen to Taylor because she is my favorite artist, but the thought that someone on Twitter made me listen was curious. Apparently he had tweeted something from her video “Story of Us”. The only thing I remember was Snape telling the students to turn to page 394, like it did in the Harry Potter book. Whether that was where “Haylor” came from (Harry + Taylor=Haylor), I am at a loss. I couldn’t find the tweet and I didn’t write more about it, which further piques my curiosity about this episode. I had written that my therapist was concerned about my losing reality so this was serious. Of course, any time I become psychotic my therapist panics. I have no idea if my pdoc was concerned because I didn’t write about that. I didn’t go into the hospital so I am guessing the medication helped and I didn’t need further assistance. I think finding the drive relieved some of the anxiety to help the medication work. And once it did, the delusions, paranoia, and voices were gone. He also was “talking to me”, though it was all mumbled according to what I wrote it. Usually voices are mumbled but I can “sense” what they mean.

The reason this is all fascinating to me is because I am such a Harry Potter fan. I have read each book at least three times and am currently read each on another time. I have seen all the movies, which were a little disappointment as they cut things from the book or added things that didn’t occur in the book. I also follow the Dark Lord on Twitter as well as Snape. Snape’s account is wicked funny. But for whatever reason, didn’t have the same psychotic hold on me as the Dark Lord’s. I think because Voldemort’s tweets were really commanding tweets than funny in nature. I am sure the tweets were meant in jest, but for whatever reason, I took them seriously, at the time. There was also a tweet saying to rob houses of Twilight freaks that saw the movie when it came out back then. I had written that I wanted to steal my sister’s sweets and Halloween candy as I knew she would be at the movie. That is probably funny now but it wasn’t then. In seriousness, I was in deep turmoil of acting on a tweet because I was “commanded” to. It was troubling me. I honestly have no clue why I wasn’t in the hospital. All the previous times that I ever had commanding voices, I was inpatient. I must have seriously have had the confidence of my psychiatrist that I wasn’t a harm to myself or others. But then, it was just a few short days and like I said, medication helped tremendously that I have no recollection of these events as they played out. I usually do remember my delusions because they last so long or I am really convinced things are happening as my mind is playing them out. Maybe because I didn’t land in the hospital I don’t remember these delusions and commanding voices/tweets. I wrote that Voldemort was “personally talking to me”, which I can only mean that his tweets were personal. But that is probably because I had his tweets sent to my mobile phone so it acted as a text message to me. In my delusional mind, it was meant for me, and me only.

Another day dealing with depression

I started editing my new book today. It is based on this blog post https://midnightdemon.com/2014/02/01/darkness-always-wins-updated-version/ . I got to the 4th page and had to edit a page out of it. I hated to do that but it was just so triggering that I thought it should be left out. It’s one thing to go on and on about being depressed, quite another to talk about cutting. It lead to the Segway of Mr. Hyde, which I guess I will keep. I had to stop there because it was depressing me and I was thinking, who the hell is going to read this shit!??

Had therapy. It didn’t go so well for my therapist’s end. She had an echo so heard herself twice. HAHA. She needs a new phone, whether she likes it or not. I still had no intention of talking to her today. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. She tried to get me to talk, though she did assess that it was my sister’s lack of support that is contributing to my depression. I also said that it’s been a week or more since my last “good” piece of writing. I have to deal with my father tomorrow for his doctor’s appointment and then fill his meds. I also have to go to the pharmacy and pick up one of his meds that I forgot to tell him about. He was out of his house and I didn’t talk to him till around 1600, so the chances of him going were impossible. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for me.

I still am depressed and my taste buds are affected. Nothing tastes the way it should. I had two cups of coffee today that tasted like shit. I barely drank either of them. The second cup, I wasted money on. I should have just ordered a mocha, but I wanted coffee. Tomorrow I will have my mocha, free as I have a reward through my Starbucks card. Buy 12 drinks, get the next one free. I like free. It sucks that I still have this lousy depression kicking around. I emailed my psychiatrist and she wants me to see her on Friday. I really don’t want to, because what is she going to do? It’s not like she has a magic pill for me. Sometimes, I get really frustrated seeing her because there is no easy answer for me. I have treatment resistant depression. I am tempted to go back on Zoloft just to see if it will work again but after a while, it makes me nauseous so defeats the purpose of taking it. Only drug I have not tried is Effexor and that is because of the list of side effects a mile long, one of which is stomach upset. I’m not that desperate to try a drug on my sensitive stomach.

I am very tired of trying drug after drug and having it fail me. Or it works for a little while and then stops working. I would love to try a weight loss drug and see if that helps with my mood and energy levels. It would beat staying in this pit that I am in. But my doc just wants me to lose it the old fashioned way, diet and exercise. That is all well and good, but I can’t diet and I can’t exercise because of my fricken pain, which he knows all too well. I have tried to restrict calories but it’s harder than it sounds. I try to eat three meals a day, sometimes two and I still don’t drop any weight. I don’t gain any either so I am doing something right. But I have gained five pounds over the last three weeks. I think it’s because I have been eating cheeseburgers (homemade) and a few donuts. That was when my taste buds were working good, and I had an appetite. Now I am back to having no appetite and bad taste buds. Even the spaghetti that my mother cooked tonight tasted bland. I know there was garlic and some kind of herb in it but I couldn’t taste it. It just tasted like cardboard.

I have been following Peter Williams on Twitter for the last couple of weeks. He played a system lord in the TV series Stargate. I followed him because he is a good actor. But the thing is, I had no idea people were very fond of the character, the bad guy! It’s not helping my delusions about ISIS and the Goa’ulds taking them over! Granted the character died a painful death on the show. I forget how he died exactly, but he was expecting us humans to save him, a GOD. OOPS, too bad, we don’t have that kind of power! I just saw that fan nuts are making Apophis (name of his character) money in his name! Like “in Apophis we trust”! I am going nuts with the influx of delusional stuff going on in my head right now. Might need to take a trilafon so my head doesn’t explode.

A Lot of Walking Today

Lot of walking today

I finally got my new glasses today. And again it took two trips to the store. I should have stayed in the Square because when I got to my home square, the place called me saying the second pair was ready. Now I can see without straining my eyes. I love the sunglasses. They are just dark enough, the way I like it. But to get there and to do an errand, I did a lot of walking and stair climbing. My ankle really hates me right now. I will probably pay the price later tonight. Walking to my friend’s place was longer than I remembered. And he didn’t tell me his office was on the 3rd floor. Bugger. But I did my good deed for the day.

It was really hot out today. I was a sweaty mess by the time I came home. I am going to have to shower. I am glad I didn’t before I went out. I hate when you take a shower and then become all hot and sweaty and need another one.

I had therapy today. I don’t remember too much about what was said. I am very tired from my exertions. My legs feel like rubber. We did talk about my blog for a little bit and about writing a second book. This lady thinks I can just produce books like they were going out of style. It’s been a year since my first book. And I am slowly working on my second. It’s just hard when you feel like killing yourself every fucking day of your life. It’s like why bother. I was hit with an idea for another short story. I got as far as a title and that was it. The title is the character in the book. I haven’t decided how I am going to write it. And I still don’t know if I will be infringing on rights of the Stargate show by writing this story. I might just publish it on my blog, though, just so I don’t collect a cent from it, just in case.

I am very tired and I hope that I sleep tonight, till at least eight tomorrow morning. I am so sick of waking up before six most mornings. It’s just a really long day, especially when I can’t go back to sleep. I go to bed late to try and stave off waking up early but it doesn’t matter. Once I have my few hours of sleep, I am up. I honestly don’t remember the last time I slept for at least six hours straight.

Last night, I had a trigger. My delusions are back and so are the damn voices, and not my usual kind. I might end up in the hospital this go round, if things don’t improve. I am really paranoid today. On the way home, the bus was getting full and I just felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. I couldn’t wait for my stop to get off the bus. Because I am feeling psychotic, the new book I wanted to read, “Lethal Code”, I am holding off. It has to deal with conspiracy and cyber wars. Not a book I should be reading right now, even though it may seem like a benign book. I just don’t want to become more delusional than I already am. I know the trigger for me was talk about Islam or ISIS or both. I don’t remember what exactly set me off. I know I was talking to my friend Chris about the delusions on Friday and maybe that wasn’t a good idea because I am still convinced the leaders of the ISIS group are being controlled by aliens. And they want Americans so they can behead them. I am very scared that this might happen with an invasion in our country.

Psychosis is a Funny Beast

1 March

Psychosis is a funny beast. It terrorizes you, yet when it’s gone, you miss it. It stimulates you like nothing else can. Yet it’s a completely individual experience. No two people will ever have the same type of voices/hallucinations. These voices/hallucinations can be visual or auditory or both. Such a common ailment in mental illness, yet so different in people.

You can have command hallucinations that tell you to do stuff or tell you to harm yourself. Or have other voices that tell you are great and powerful. Others that are more sinister and mean that cause paranoia. It doesn’t have to be people, per se, that give these commands. It can be words from the TV or voices on the radio, even if the appliances are turned off and unplugged. These devices can still speak and it can cause great anxiety and nervous agitation.

Sometimes when I am reading a book, the words will fly off the page giving me new meaning. It is magical and majestic. Most of the time, a man’s voice “reads” to me. It is the only way I can comprehend the paragraphs. Without this voice, the words have no meaning and I don’t know what the book is trying to say. The words are empty and meaningless.

There was a time when my paranoid thoughts got the best of me while I was at work. I was utterly convinced my email was being monitored by a doctor colleague I had a row with. Well, not really a row. He just called me incompetent. I told my boss that I didn’t want to work with him again. In retaliation, he was “watching” my email activity to get me fired. Every email was tagged to him somehow. I was convinced of this because the voices said so. When the emails started doing their dance like the words of the book, I became nervous that something was wrong. I called my psychiatrist. She told me I needed to be in the hospital. Psychosis such as this required urgent care. But I did not feel sick. I may have felt a little insane, perhaps. The delusions and hallucinations were bad that year. It caused me to quit college. I have yet to return to university, but mostly that is because of financial reasons than psychosis.

Soon after my release from the hospital, the delusions started again. This time with another co-worker. Voices had me convinced she was out to kill me. We had been good friends. I talked amicably to her so not to offend her. We played this game for three weeks. With each passing day, the paranoia got worse. I finally asked this woman, to test my reality, if she intended to harm me. She thought it was a preposterous question. The voices lied, again. They always do but they are so convincing, you believe them. No one else hears them. They are never visible though I often imagine what they must look like. A general overview of a female or male voice. It is when they start arguing amongst each other that things become confusing. Sometimes they make sense, other times they are incoherent. It’s like they get weird languages so I can’t follow what they are saying. The language is not any that I can discern. I have been exposed to different languages over the years and this is like nothing I have heard before. The language they speak, however undiscernible, is alien to me. And when I question what they are saying, only then do they talk English again.

These voices have been a part of my life for more than thirty years. I have adapted to them well. Only time they ever really leave me is when I am highly medicated. When they leave, I am utterly alone. It is a lonely place to be in. I cannot think without the voices. They have become so ingrained to my thoughts. They can “read” my thoughts so I don’t have to speak, at times. Yet we do have conversations that either I will initiate or they will. Especially at night when I try going to sleep, is when they come out and talk. There is this one voice that pops in just when I am trying to sleep just to have a chat. This voice inquires how my day went, and other general questions relating to how I have been. This is usually because it has been a while since we last chatted. It’s annoying because I want to sleep, not talk. Yet if I ignore the voice, the louder she becomes. Then I can’t sleep because I get agitated and extremely annoyed. There is no arguing with these voices. They don’t have a sense of time like we do. If they talk and ask questions, they must be answered, no matter what time of day it is. Many nights of lost sleep mean nothing to them. They are demanding creatures of the night.

I read a quote today that stuck with me. “I never understood the ‘psychosis isn’t illness, just an expected response to stress’ line. Bleeding is an expected response to a cut”. Alex Langford. What strike me with this quote is that it is true. People who have stress do not become psychotic. They usually suffer from anxiety of some sort, but they don’t become delusional and hear/see things that others cannot see.

Like most of my psychotic episodes, stress is usually the precipitant factor. Two weeks ago, I was getting stressed over financial matters. I am on a fixed income so trying to pay for everything can be a juggling act. A delusion of command tweets started. We have had heavy snow the whole month of February. I kept getting tweets to clear the roof tops. With each subsequent tweet, I took it as a command to clean my roof off. I started worrying that my roof was going to collapse (highly unlikely as I don’t have flat roof tops). But I couldn’t shake the notion that something terrible was going to happen if I ignored the tweet. So I started taking one of my PRNs (as needed) medication. It helped to ease the agitation and helped me to see that I was safe in my home. But taking this medication caused the voices to go away, temporarily. I have never felt so empty and alone before. I could function, do my every day things, but it was eerily quiet in my room, and in my head.

Not everyone who has stress becomes psychotic. If stress was the reason, there would be more schizophrenics or those suffering from psychotic depressions or manias in the world. Most people who are stressed, as I stated before, have anxiety. I become psychotic for reasons I don’t know why. I start having conversations with myself, out loud, with the voices when I am stressed. It just looks like I am talking with myself, but I am really not. I do know that once I am on medication, the stresses don’t bother me as much and I can handle them better. I sometimes like to think of myself as a functional schizophrenic.

It’s hard to explain the voices as they can be random. They come out more when I am tired, stressed out, or overwhelmed. They also come out when I am in an agitated state. I also feel like I am losing my mind. I wonder, am I depressed? Am I manic? Or am I just mad, bordering on insanity?

My drug of choice when I am in an agitated state is trilafon (perphenazine). It helps to keep the “bad” voices away. The “bad” voices are the voices that tell me negative things, give me paranoia, start with the delusions, and give me commands. If they are not controlled by medication, I usually end up in the hospital.

These days, the “bad” voices don’t come around much since I take a regular anti-psychotic everyday. What is striking is that this pill has no effect on my “regular” voices, the voices that I hear every day. This is good because without these voices I cannot function. Although these regular voices can be annoying, critical, and negative, they can also be helpful to sort out problems or have discussions with.

Pain and despair can also bring about a psychotic episode for me. Physical pain is the not the kind that I am talking about. It’s more like a weight on the chest, making breathing difficult. It’s not like an anxiety attack upon the nerves that I sometimes get. It is more cerebral in nature but hurts like that of a broken limb. Despair will cause madness to intensify and with it comes the suicidal thoughts. Anguish also is felt like never felt before. It is unbearable. The combination of these feelings create a breeding ground for the voices to become unhinged. Delusions of persecution also become acute. I feel everyone is against me and are trying to kill me. I try to fight the rightness of the mind but it unthinkable. My thoughts are just too incoherent. Voices get their way and the insufferable feelings fuel the paranoia. The pressure to resist is futile and to cognitively deny their words proves to be impossible. The torment continues with the increase in despair and suffering of unbearable psychological pain.

In this state, lyrics of songs become perturbed and twisted. The meaning of songs always revolve around death and destruction, even if that is not what the song is about. Hallucinations of hearing the song over and over even when music is not playing is common. I hear the song even when the MP3 player or radio is silent. I once had a song by Pearl Jam run rampant in my head for weeks. Then the lyrics changed and were telling me that I had to die, even though there were no such lyrics in the song. There was no escape from this turmoil. The only place I found solace was in the hospital and being drugged up to calm my overstimulated brain.

These types of voices, paranoia, and delusions respond best to medication. The longer I go without meds, the worse my condition becomes. I deteriorate, losing whatever faculties I may still possess. I have noticed that as I get older, there is an increase in episodes. These episodes are profoundly devastating and scary. It used to be I could be on my medication until the episode passed. Then I would stop it and not have another episode for years. That doesn’t seem to be the case any longer. I must now take this pink pill every day to be sane and prevent symptoms from happening. Since this regimen began a couple of years ago, my psychotic symptoms have decreased. But if I skip a few days, I am in trouble again. Then it is harder to be back in control of the symptoms. The balance of dealing with the psychosis is never easy. It’s a fine line between sane and insane, despair and despondency, psychache, severe depression, and suicidal thoughts. These are the evil conundrums that medication cannot cure or control. Talk therapy is somewhat effective but only as a maintenance. Despair is its own miserable evil that sucks the light out of every window. It’s power cannot be underestimated.