suave_house1983
New member
I have no idea where to begin. When my parents split up, all I remember is telling my mother as clear as day that I needed to be taken somewhere. I was scared of what I might do to my father. See, I was the one to break it to my mother that he had been cheating on her for years. I was about fourteen. All of a sudden I was thrust into inpatient care at a place called camelot. During the interview for some reason, I decided to use the restroom and smear soap into the mirror and write things. Can't remember what nowadays. The place was awful when I got accepted in. I didn't cooperate because the personnel were abusive. Eventually they said they knew it was me in the bathroom. I got out, only to become hooked on drugs later on, get arrested, and sent off to state custody. I've had a past history of abusing myself. Cutting, burning, biting, hitting. I had free access to roxicontin 30 mg for two years. Took up to ten a day before my incarceration. Hurt myself all the time. Custody broke me of both of these habits. Rather, I broke myself of these habits. I still occasionally hurt myself, smoke a little ganja now and again. I find myself yearning to be an addict again. I did crack for awhile. I thought life was good without drugs, but I keep thinking back to how (sadly) things were better when I did.
In state custody, I had to see a therapist. I was assigned up to 22 pills a day. Risperdal for psychosis, seroquel, cognitin for all the pills, neurontin four times a day, lunesta, etc, etc. It was ridiculous. I was diagnosed with everything from PTSD, generalized anxiety disorder, anxiety disorder w/ agoraphobia, panic disorder nos, psychotic disorder nos, obessive compulsive disorder, etc. I began reading up on all of these things. I could pass any test, easily.
But I have reached a point in my life where I just want the answers. All I know about myself is:
I find it extremely difficult to talk to people, look them in the eyes.
I always find myself wondering what it is like for other people that are alive. I see how they act, react, and I don't follow the same path. Hell, intuitive programs aren't even intuitive for me. Everything seems forced, all the the time. Every word.
I have no idea what I even like to eat. What my favorite color is. Trying to decide these things proves impossible and results in anxiety.
I was a lot happier when I hurt myself and abused drugs. I felt like I knew myself then. Not saying that is true, but I really felt okay with who I was then, compared to now.
I can't show affection easily. Whenever I do, I can tell that it is forced and that others can tell that as well when it comes to relationships. I never initiate sexual contact. Kissing seems awkward.
I lay awake at night trying to figure out how I feel, because I never know. I feel as though I feel nothing, except for maybe feeling bad because I can't tell my feelings.
Sometimes I have an urge to hurt myself that I just can't stand to deny, or setting a fire or other dangerous activities.
At times I feel totally empowered, and as though the entire world loves and adores me, and I can get away with anything.
Sometimes I feel as though I can control other peoples reactions, thoughts.
I just don't know what is real anymore. Someone please help me. I'll be okay just so long as I know what level of insane I am. I have been hearing that I am psychotic all my life.
When I was a child I used to see black cloaked figures in my yard, running through it, and I would go out there to yell at them. On occasion when my mother is drunk enough, we will talk about these things.
My family on my mothers side has a history of suicide, depression, bipolar disorder, etc. When I say hurt myself, I mean I have 20+ scars on the underneath of my right arm from cigarette burns. A deep burgundy scar on my left wrist. Etc. Not just a little cut here and there. Major damage that I am ashamed of. Please help.
In state custody, I had to see a therapist. I was assigned up to 22 pills a day. Risperdal for psychosis, seroquel, cognitin for all the pills, neurontin four times a day, lunesta, etc, etc. It was ridiculous. I was diagnosed with everything from PTSD, generalized anxiety disorder, anxiety disorder w/ agoraphobia, panic disorder nos, psychotic disorder nos, obessive compulsive disorder, etc. I began reading up on all of these things. I could pass any test, easily.
But I have reached a point in my life where I just want the answers. All I know about myself is:
I find it extremely difficult to talk to people, look them in the eyes.
I always find myself wondering what it is like for other people that are alive. I see how they act, react, and I don't follow the same path. Hell, intuitive programs aren't even intuitive for me. Everything seems forced, all the the time. Every word.
I have no idea what I even like to eat. What my favorite color is. Trying to decide these things proves impossible and results in anxiety.
I was a lot happier when I hurt myself and abused drugs. I felt like I knew myself then. Not saying that is true, but I really felt okay with who I was then, compared to now.
I can't show affection easily. Whenever I do, I can tell that it is forced and that others can tell that as well when it comes to relationships. I never initiate sexual contact. Kissing seems awkward.
I lay awake at night trying to figure out how I feel, because I never know. I feel as though I feel nothing, except for maybe feeling bad because I can't tell my feelings.
Sometimes I have an urge to hurt myself that I just can't stand to deny, or setting a fire or other dangerous activities.
At times I feel totally empowered, and as though the entire world loves and adores me, and I can get away with anything.
Sometimes I feel as though I can control other peoples reactions, thoughts.
I just don't know what is real anymore. Someone please help me. I'll be okay just so long as I know what level of insane I am. I have been hearing that I am psychotic all my life.
When I was a child I used to see black cloaked figures in my yard, running through it, and I would go out there to yell at them. On occasion when my mother is drunk enough, we will talk about these things.
My family on my mothers side has a history of suicide, depression, bipolar disorder, etc. When I say hurt myself, I mean I have 20+ scars on the underneath of my right arm from cigarette burns. A deep burgundy scar on my left wrist. Etc. Not just a little cut here and there. Major damage that I am ashamed of. Please help.