Friday, May 21, 2010

I'll show you my dark secret.

I can't write blog while listening to music. I will hear something beautiful and can't help but steal it and want it to be my own. As per lastnights blog. I'm glad to say my dose today had made me feel that warm glow. My emotions gone just like the winter. I can handel to read that perfect email today, and not want to claim the authour as my own. I handed over all my pshycotropic drugs to mother who is organizing them and will be making sure I take them everyday. My councler at the Methadone clinic is now making me bring my medication in every morning when I come to dose, and having me take them infront of the nurse before she doles out my Methadone juice.

I have to tell someone about a secret I've been keeping. Not just from the people who read my blog, but my family and few friends as well. Usually I pour out everything about myself onto this blog and let you all read and judge. As if I were so interesting that you would want to know even the most mundane details of my life. Which does make me way to full of myself.

I've made no secret that I'm Bi Polar, but I also have a diagnosis that I've kept to myself. Mainly because I'm embarrassed of it. I'm just going to come out with it. I'm Bi Polar with delusional thinking. I let my imagination blur with reality, and will end up with a delusion. For example, when I was in jail I thought the president was trying to communicate with me thru the T.V., and I would make the other girls watch the same channel everyday and I would have to turn the volume up to a certain number because that was the frequency that the President would contact me on. He would order me to watch and listen to what the guards said and did whenever I could. It got so bad one night, I was in such a desperate way. I followed a guard out of the cell block, he didn't notice me behind him at first. As soon as he did noticed me I became very agitated and had be put in four point restraints, and sedated with Haldol. That was my most recent delusion. I haven't had one since.

Also, I'm so uncomfortable with who I am, its easier for me to slip into a character. I would have probably made a great method actor, but unfortunately I haven't the looks nor the body to get into film. Since I'm poor I'm considered crazy, if I were rich I'd be eccentric.

When some anonymous person tells me to kill myself, as happened in my last post, I feel deeply hurt. How could someone who knows what I think about want me to die? Thank God that my methadone dose made me numb today because had I been feeling when I read that comment I probably would have let it keep me from blogging today. Someone, actually alot of anonymous people tell me they wish I would just get it over with and kill myself already, and I just don't understand why they would want me to be dead. To not exist any more. I can't think of any good reason other than what I've written has horribly offended them or bored them to death.

Now you know my dark secret. I've put myself out there by writing this, and every comment bad or good I deserve. No comment I deserve more. Seriously, there is nothing the least bit interesting about me that one should feel the need to comment about it. Don't get me wrong I love comments, but I don't feel I deserve them. I don't think I deserve as many readers as I have.

My delusions are rare, and have only happened four times since I was twenty. Still its the main reason I was given SSI so easily. The first time I summit ed an application they gave it to me. The delusional thinking along with the bi polar that no doctor has found the correct meds that keep me from cycling completely. I'm always cycling...even now.

So there, you know it all. I'm bat shit crazy.


Anonymous said...

Dont feel bad dear Anna
everyone in some kind of way is desilusional only that they do not tell it or.. their ''deliriums'' are socially acepted lol
You sound like a really interesting person, some people cant handle people who analize things and think so they tell you to kill yourself or that kind of stuff.
Dont kill yourself, you are unique Anna you have come a loooong way, keep going!
Best wishes!

Anonymous said...

You might be delusional, but I don't think you are. Does that make me delusional?

You might be suiciadal, but I don't think you are. Does that make delisional or suicidal, both?

I don't think so. I think, you, as we all do, have problems. Some things we need to work out.

I would be sad if you "checked out".

Your looks and thoughts remind me of my sister. She was 32 when she "checked out".

She had the most beautiful blonde, naturally curly hair. But she chose to dye her hair brunette and wear a "fall". She had beautiful blue eyes, as you do. She constantly held the sadness in her eyes. And in her heart, I'm sure.

Such a good heart, she had.

That was 33 years ago. I am selfish, I know, but if she had lived, heroin addiction and all?...I wonder what she could have clarified and taught me a few things. I would hope so.

Please don't leave us, Anna.

Much love,


Gledwood said...

Hang on I was crazy a few years ago. I still hear voices when I get tired...

What pissed/es me off the most was that I was seeing doctors and nurses at the methadone clinic, not just the "key worker" who only knows about drugs not nut-nut stuff... And incidentally I always call myself a nutter not mentally challenged or whatever the phrase would be. That tiptoey mental health political correctness annoys me... Anyway: I came in like a wreck every week. Unwashed. Hair like a hay stack. Stinking clothes covered in blood. I really didn't care about anything. Somehow they seemed to think this was a lifestyle choice, not that I was barking mad, like a Norwich terrier. I now know I was crazy ... but there's an official version (smoking crack was the cause) and an actual version (I wasn't smoking crack when this started, crack just made it worse)

e.g. when i was homeless in an empty factory I used to see spectacular shows of lights on the ceiling every night, like UFOs landing, I saw ghosts. There were rats and pigeons, which were real. The rats ran over my feet lots of times, always seemingly when I had needlepoint in hand.

I used to see what I think they call illusions, which were evil, twisted faces in walls, in the floor, in clothes lying on the floor. (I never keep clothes in drawers. Even when I have drawers to keep 'em in...)

The worst one I ever saw was on antidepressants that disagreed with me worse than anything else. I went on a huge high, awake for days on end and crashed so low that when I bought drugs I would just stare at the bag for hours, not bothering to open it. Not like me. In this state I saw a dead body reflected in the bathroom mirror. I looked away, hummed a tune, tried to ignore it. But every time I looked back it was still there. I was convinced it was about to open its eyes and start speaking...

When I moved into a crackhouse I got pretty full-on psychosis. One night I thought people were climbinb the walls to get at me. I thought cameras in the room were spying on me. I nearly electrocuted myself dismantling a plug to find the bug. (Then I plugged it in, with no back and bare wires ~ now that IS crazy.) At first I stripped off to give these spies an eyeful. Then I got shy and found myself living in a kind of tent made of clothes, sheets etc, like the kind of house 3 year olds make

I did't realize I was hearing voices till they went away. Suddenly the people in the next room spoke in vague murmurs not clear voices. And they didn't seem to be SLAGGING ME OFF all the time~!!

Anna I wouldn't be too fussed about being dingbats. There are far worse things people can be...


Anonymous said...




AnnaGrace said...

I have no immediate plans to kill myself. Rigth now I'm actually in an up swing in my mood. I know, you wouldn't know it from my blog.
Thanks for the comments.

Yes I love Marry Poppins. Gled, that is just what popped in my head. Did I say pooped, so childish but it makes me laugh.
I have no idea what you look like so I change my mental image of you often. Sometimes your even hotter than Kurt Cobain.
Gled, your comment made me bust a gut I laughed so hard. I luv ya.

Anonymous said...

people make horrible comments like that because they are cowards. idiots hiding behind a screen. they would never have the balls to actually confront someone in such a way.
~carrion doll