Losing the plot.
Once again I come to post in this forum.
Before I go onto a bit of a pseudo-rant and self reflection, I need to define a few things.
Now I know life isn't easy. Nobody would have one otherwise what's the point? I accept that.
Right now though I just find it impossible to leave the house without wanting to bash the shit out of people. I won't divulge into details, but the medication I have to inject slowly turned me into the Hulk. Usually I'm the sort to almost be on a natural Benzo high (like a naturally secreted Valium store in my brain) and whatnot.
Right now though, 8 months down the line from beginning the treatment and having my fair few fuckups, it has got to the point where even the old lady at the Post Office who might say something I consider to be out of line, I invisage grabbing her by the grey, weak hair and bashing her head onto the desk, using any object sitting there to inflict more damage.
Walking the puppy, I just want to kick the shit out of it until a load of bloody entrails are left. It sucks. I won't go into more details, like I said, but I have started to see the violent side come out of me, as those who are close to me slowly move away, and considering a phonecall is enough to make me go full-on with a machete, fuck knows what will happen if things went skewed. Even at the Hospital I end up becoming an emotional wreck because I need that safety net in case my relationship were to end, or my life took a turn for the worst thanks to my attitude. Becuase of this I now have to keep a mental health diary of what each day was like on a scale of 1 to 5, and it just re-affirms that I'm some nutjob who can't live a normal life. What my saving grace is though, is that I can see it's not normal, and so i need to hold onto this "normal" mindset and pull myself out of this deep, dark blue lake I've got myself into.
I fucking love my girlfriend. I truly do. She has the ability to make me the happiest guy in the world. I am not even exaggerating here, and I'm pretty intense, I know, so I've learnt that lesson, but it's an odd situation whereby I seem to go through phases of finding things people take joy in, and they thus far make me thoroughly depressed. I seem to get myself into those situations knowingly, and it's a fine line between appeasement or anger, and it's always the latter as I can never properly explain myself in my current mindset.
"Normal" people find things such as sitting round a fire, or going for a walk, or even sex enjoyable. Instead in my past, sex has caused me to throw bleach on myself, going for a walk has ended up going almost American Psycho on a homeless man and sitting round a fire ends in me roasting whatever I shot earlier in the day with my mates shotgun and getting a kick from it. I said to my Dad yesterday when I was going for some range practice as I needed to blow off some steam, that "I'm at my most peaceful going fast, because if ever I slow down or feel worse off than the previous day then that's it for me. I told you I'll be gone at 30, so give me a boat, a huge outboard and a target to steer into. Leaving this planet at 50 knots and an explosion will do it for me, because I can never go back for fear of letting my targets down." Nobody truly knows the real me. I lost him on a beach in Spain. The real RemadE is still in my mind, but not in my body, and only my family and a select few friends who knew me prior to being 16 know the real me, and it scares me, because they are the only people that keep me sane.
Just needed to confide in &T. Got an exam on Tuesday and I'd rather go in the room and kick off, but you have to play their game. This medication has slowly turned me into a nihilistic shit-for-brains who has managed to piss everyone around him off, and the thing is, I can see it happening, but see no reason for it to stop. my brain cries out to, but my body goes ahead anyway. I slowly feel like I'm losing the plot, and I'm only 21.
Fucking sad.
Ps. If I have spoken to anyone here about things contained within, please do not mention or comment here. Teamspeak is for Teamspeak.
Before I go onto a bit of a pseudo-rant and self reflection, I need to define a few things.
- Had a physical addiction to Opiates. Shit sucked. Barely got any euphoria from them after the first year.
- On an immune suppressant that I have to inject.
- University stresses and seeing a Doctor and Mental Health team for it upon my return to University.
Now I know life isn't easy. Nobody would have one otherwise what's the point? I accept that.
Right now though I just find it impossible to leave the house without wanting to bash the shit out of people. I won't divulge into details, but the medication I have to inject slowly turned me into the Hulk. Usually I'm the sort to almost be on a natural Benzo high (like a naturally secreted Valium store in my brain) and whatnot.
Right now though, 8 months down the line from beginning the treatment and having my fair few fuckups, it has got to the point where even the old lady at the Post Office who might say something I consider to be out of line, I invisage grabbing her by the grey, weak hair and bashing her head onto the desk, using any object sitting there to inflict more damage.
Walking the puppy, I just want to kick the shit out of it until a load of bloody entrails are left. It sucks. I won't go into more details, like I said, but I have started to see the violent side come out of me, as those who are close to me slowly move away, and considering a phonecall is enough to make me go full-on with a machete, fuck knows what will happen if things went skewed. Even at the Hospital I end up becoming an emotional wreck because I need that safety net in case my relationship were to end, or my life took a turn for the worst thanks to my attitude. Becuase of this I now have to keep a mental health diary of what each day was like on a scale of 1 to 5, and it just re-affirms that I'm some nutjob who can't live a normal life. What my saving grace is though, is that I can see it's not normal, and so i need to hold onto this "normal" mindset and pull myself out of this deep, dark blue lake I've got myself into.
I fucking love my girlfriend. I truly do. She has the ability to make me the happiest guy in the world. I am not even exaggerating here, and I'm pretty intense, I know, so I've learnt that lesson, but it's an odd situation whereby I seem to go through phases of finding things people take joy in, and they thus far make me thoroughly depressed. I seem to get myself into those situations knowingly, and it's a fine line between appeasement or anger, and it's always the latter as I can never properly explain myself in my current mindset.
"Normal" people find things such as sitting round a fire, or going for a walk, or even sex enjoyable. Instead in my past, sex has caused me to throw bleach on myself, going for a walk has ended up going almost American Psycho on a homeless man and sitting round a fire ends in me roasting whatever I shot earlier in the day with my mates shotgun and getting a kick from it. I said to my Dad yesterday when I was going for some range practice as I needed to blow off some steam, that "I'm at my most peaceful going fast, because if ever I slow down or feel worse off than the previous day then that's it for me. I told you I'll be gone at 30, so give me a boat, a huge outboard and a target to steer into. Leaving this planet at 50 knots and an explosion will do it for me, because I can never go back for fear of letting my targets down." Nobody truly knows the real me. I lost him on a beach in Spain. The real RemadE is still in my mind, but not in my body, and only my family and a select few friends who knew me prior to being 16 know the real me, and it scares me, because they are the only people that keep me sane.
Just needed to confide in &T. Got an exam on Tuesday and I'd rather go in the room and kick off, but you have to play their game. This medication has slowly turned me into a nihilistic shit-for-brains who has managed to piss everyone around him off, and the thing is, I can see it happening, but see no reason for it to stop. my brain cries out to, but my body goes ahead anyway. I slowly feel like I'm losing the plot, and I'm only 21.
Fucking sad.
Ps. If I have spoken to anyone here about things contained within, please do not mention or comment here. Teamspeak is for Teamspeak.
Comments
I went to see a psychiatrist for an evaluation today. A few things have stuck with me.
First off I mentioned I am the sort of guy who prepares for an Apocalyptic event - and that's deemed "psychotic" by the psychiatric team.
I admitted to taking illegal narcotics a few times, but it was all positive and that they had never given me a bad view on life.
Bipolar is a possibility, exacerbated by anxiety etc.
She asked me if I had ever dabbled in explosives or the like, and after discussing my Terrorism essay, she asked my views on the Norway massacre.
We also discussed my views on death. I said it doesn't bother me, but I realise the implications suicide has and that it isn't on my "to do" list.
Overall I came across as positive and she understood that things in life have a huge effect, such as my Crohn's disease, University, past relationships and family issues. I'm seeing someone in my University for a follow-up as they wish for me to see a "prevent" team to discuss the anxiety, and I made sure to tell her I had no psychotic symptoms (as she even said stress can bring on hallucinations and psychotic experiences), so that was made perfectly clear. In all it was a very positive day which allowed me to get things off my chest in a 6ft by 6ft room that had an emergency alarm, a telephone, 4 boxes of tissues and a waste bin in as well as a ton of leaflets. Looking quite forward to seeing the follow up team as I hate being the angry S.O.B I am from day to day.