Genesungsupdate

Also… vor einigen Wochen habe ich aus Eigenverantwortung meine letzten Neuroleptika schleichend und vorsichtig abgesetzt, Risperidon und Zipsilan. Die Schizophrenie-Erkrankung ist jetzt beinahe vier Jahre her, die Psychose sechs.

Die Neuroleptika, u.a. auch Olanzapin und Xeplion und viele weitere, und meine daraus resultierenden extremen Gelüste auf Essen haben mich fett gemacht, seit drei Jahren kämpfe ich angestrengt gegen mein Übergewicht an mit Sport, Spaziergängen, Yazio (Ernährungs-App), Arbeit, wenig Zucker und nur Wasser, Tee und Kaffee mit 1,5% fetthaltiger Milch. Also, wie dem auch sei…

Ich rauche zudem auch weniger seit diesem Jahr, etwa fünf am Tag, nicht mehr auf der Arbeit, nur gebe ich mir dann meistens als aller erstes zu Hause die volle Dröhnung und rauche vor dem Sport, strampel 45 Minuten am Stück auf dem Gerät herum und übergebe mich fast vor Nikotinekel.

Nun ja. Sechs Kilo habe ich bereits verloren. Fehlen nur noch.. 35.

Zurück zum Eigentlichen: Vor ein paar Wochen im Bus auf dem Nachhauseweg hat es sich angefühlt, als würden mir Aliens das Gehirn aus dem Kopf saugen. An der Haltestelle in der Stadt glaubte ich zusehends, schlimme, bösartige Dinge seien im Begriff zu geschehen, die Menschen blickten immerzu argwöhnisch und misstrauisch und so weiter.

Hinter meiner Arbeitsstelle stecke in Wirklichkeit ein riesiger Verschwörungsapparat, der Menschen mit psychischen Krankheiten zu sich locke, damit sie sich mit einem Virus infizieren und sterben.

Heute auf dem Nachhauseweg bildete ich mir unkontrolliert ein, die Anwesenheit anderer Personen, deren Auras und Nutzung von Smartphones, beeinflussten meine Denkstruktur, veränderten die Ohrwürmer in meinem Kopf und so Zeug. Natürlich könnte jetzt jeder sagen, dann nimm doch deine Tabletten wieder. Und ja, seit ein paar Tagen nehme ich zumindest Zipsilan abends wieder vor dem Essen.

Ums Verrecken möchte ich nie wieder schizophren oder in anderer Form psychotisch werden. Nur: Niemand kann mir sagen, ob das passiert. Möglicherweise werde ich mich für den Rest meines Lebens davor fürchten, mehr noch ist es die Angst vor den Nachwirkungen wie schwere Depressionen mit hoher Suizidalität, die irgendwie damit einhergehen und die von meiner ursprünglichen „Persönlichkeitsstörung“ intensiviert werden.

Lieber Gott… gib mir bitte etwas Stärke und Resilienz und ein paar schöne neue Teebeutelweisheiten.

slowcut schizophrenia part.. forgotten

I even got bound on a bed while I was in psychiatry the last time and longest stay there. First they took me there and I believed everyone is a spying asshole and all people around me were pedophils or at least those supporting pedophiles (don’t know how to write this word). In the night I got on my period and all the blood flow down on my legs I needed to wipe away secretly it looked strange like butterfly blood. I talked to a crying person behind a wall I thought he was my monkey crying for all the rape he did to me as a little child in our neighbourhood. We got forced to like this couple in Butterfly Effect, Ewan and Kayleigh, and then I made two cups of tea for us while I talked to him through the walls. I said I’m sorrry for all THEY have done to us, not we, we were just kids, no worries. And I tried to show him how we could kill all those evil sailors of the past. By drowning them within my cup of tea.

I wore my most beautiful dress I had like I wore when I was Peter Pan. Black and white stripes. I’ve gone through all the night alone and the next day I started to ask when I could leave because I didn’t feel I was sick. But I grew through all the fucking rape in this world then and started to cry heavyly as a monster. Then I walked around confusedly and on a sunny day outside, no, first, I had a bad shower then, heavy rain shower with all my dress on (I put my bloody chucks off and by God I had wanted to leave them in the bathroom before I decided to keep them, fortunately). After the shower the dress was too heavy on my body and so I asked for new clothes. They gave me out of their second hand rooms a punk jeans for boys and a big pullover for wolves but a punk shirt as well. And okay, it was some kind of very hot and sunny outside where there were fences everywhere so we could not leave the psychiatry. I climbed the fence to try out if I can climb over but I got weak and about six men came to catch me up again. They said: I wanted to escape so a judge decided that I needed to stay for sure inside of that shitface asshole place. That was the worst they could do to me. I mean, I just climbed for fun and then they put me onto a bed where they could bind me. They bound me and put me inside of a room where there were no things to hide the windows, no curtains, and I felt watched of course, in my paranoia state. There was another monkey lying next to me, I woke her up. She needed to pee. Me as well, by the way, I thought this would be the end of my life. Being bound for all the rest of, never free again, I really believed. So I needed to pee the fuck out of me and I couldn’t cause I needed to do this on the bed with a pot they gave me and put under my ass. Somehow after taking pills and hard tries to pee I fell asleep and when I woke up I wasn’t bound anymore and I had no pain anymore because of my need to pee. So somehow I found out I am not in a hospital of assholes only. The first trust I could make.

So, what I wanted to tell ya, is, they were six men at least who caught me up when I fell down the fence cause I got weak. This was superperfect cause I didn’t hurt myself falling down. It was the perfect fall. Professional. So many professionals I got to know and had contacts with. Police men and nurses (male nurses as well ? ). Ahm. All my experiences were better than any movie I could make. I mean, I was bound like Charlie, my protagonist of all my lovely books I wrote and those stories. And I became the REAL Charlie, you know, I started to believe, that even the bed bondage hahaha was a part of a big birthday present for me so I could see how all of this is in real life. I even was sexually excited about the bondage. But this is not the matter. This is.. not the point, you know.

So many things, man. What can I say. I don’t want to write books about this, this is impossible. This is my diary. I’ve created my own movies.

whatever

it will take much time untill I can watch movies again I used to like. I have a problem seeing people get killed or murdered in a movie. most of those I used to like are about death in any way. blood diamond for example (supergreat soundtrack), I could watch because I had no schizophrenia projection of it, but, it’s about too much.. death and so on. I’m.. sensitive.

Rather I would watch Tom & Jerry the whole night long/ listen to while falling asleep. I have all the seasons, episodes because my ex-boy(friend sounds like same age)mate bought them on DVD. I kept them. Fortunately.

worries

there are really worse things in life than being a little fatty, aren’t there? I mean, to be in a schizophrenia mode for always, for example, alright? Imagine. This would be total hell. But if I trust all my doctors and take pills as they say and avoid hard alcohol or alcohol at all and drugs of course, nothing bad can happen to me, again, is that right? Tell me.

inception inception

I can’t watch any movies any more cause I’ve created all my own.

Worst part of paranoia: I thought I was in a tenth part of inception like in a dream in a dream in a dream in a dream in a dream in a dream and so on…

Lisa, wake up. This was on my mind. All the time. Till the end of inception. I found out myself after 18 km of walking through days and nights and fields and forests through thorns and trees and any jungle plant out there. Scratches everywhere.

I’m happy I’ve found my way out. And I had my own soundtracks as well, but I can’t listen to, it’s the radio music and viva charts which were played all the time. I’m just remembering things.