It comes in waves. Sometimes I forget my situation and I feel centred and at peace. Today has not had a lot of those moments. I get the new med injection again tomorrow. At least my psychiatrist has lowered the dose.
I’ve been pretty upset though. I feel beaten up and abused by the mental health system which painfully pretends it is trying to help me. If I seem like a broken record it’s because I have to live with the side effects of the meds every day. If the system wanted to help, then listening to me and believing me when I’m saying that the meds are hurting me would help me. Helping me explore and find alternative and holistic medicines would help me.
I just want to be well.
People keep bringing up the Greyhound bus murder and it breaks my heart. What stigma our world has woven around the words Schizophrenia and Psychosis. Those words in no way equal violence, murder or harm. People who experience psychosis are not inherently murderers and are not prone to violence anymore than other human beings. When murders make the news however, the finger gets pointed at all of us. I have not hurt anyone or myself and I am not a ticking time bomb to. That’s why this is so painful. I understand the illness but I have not committed a crime.
I get really worked up as my whole body tremors. I bring myself back to the moment. To the music coming through my speakers. Where am I? I’m safe in my home. Saba’s in her nest in the next room. I am grateful for my home. For my mom and for Saba. These are the thoughts I choose to listen to the most, and therein the good moments lie. With thoughts of gratitude I feel warmer and brighter inside.
I haven’t been drawing but I have started journaling (scrapbooking) again. It feels good to collage and organize the past into books.
I still trust that everything happens as it’s meant to and I know that what's meant to be will be. I trust the Universe.