Sharing is Caring

Part of why I have found myself sharing my life with mental illness is that I believe there is an ignorance problem related to mental illness itself. That problem leads to misconceptions about mental illness, and unintended judgement towards those of us living with it.

I have always, as far back as I can remember, have been angry and depressed. A lot of that stemmed from physical abuse as a child at the hands of a equally, if not more depressed, single mom. Along with that, later sexual abuse added to the depression which would manifest in explosive anger and flat out rage. I hate that about myself. It is really not my nature.

For the last year I have been scouring the internet, looking for answers to my illness, looking for cures, therapies, anything really. What I learned is that anger is a manifestation of depression from those who suffer from it. And, as of this writing, I am happy to say that knowing that has helped me recognize what ever the trigger is, and then I can deal with it through breathing exercises, isolation, and CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy). The anger is still there. Its not as strong as it has been in the past. I have had three morning outbursts since moving here. Through CBT I have been able to identify the trigger, which is the voice formally known as God.

Most mornings I wake up to just crowd noise. The crowd noises started when I was admitted to the hospital. Once in awhile I will wake up to fake god calling me names in an extremely loud voice. I'm just waking up, this has the potential to trigger rage, complete with me running away, yelling at the top of my lungs at my voices. At that point I am doing all I can to get away from people so they don't have to see it. I'm pretty sure they hear me though. Honestly, I think I get away so I don't have to apologize later. The last time it happened was five months ago.

This particular aspect of my illness is easily distracted by music. Specifically 70s soul and r&b. No kidding. When I wake up and the voices are loud, I put in the ear buds or play music out loud. Bill Withers, Lovely Day has pulled me up on more than one occasion. I pace, make coffee, try to remember lyrics, eventually sitting down and getting lost in the music. It's about a two to three hour process. And it works.

That, the depression and rage that is, is just one aspect of the chemical gymnastics going on in my head. Since I'm in a sharing mood, let's crack open my skull and see what's going on.

First, my diagnosis is in limbo right now. I was originally diagnosed with major depression with psychotic features, social anxiety disorder, and PTSD in March of 2019. That diagnosis was done by the psychiatrist on duty when I was admitted. After about 6 months of appointments my primary therapist and psychologist started thinking I was schitzoaffective bipolar type, along with the social anxiety and PTSD.

When I left in December for California I stopped all treatment until I could get set up with VA in San Diego. I never followed through. I would make appointments, only to cancel them a few days later. I did that four or five times. My reasoning for it all centered on an ongoing, sometimes fully believable, delusion that the VA wants to harvest my organs for incoming war wounded.

It's ok to laugh at that. I do. Its how I can half assed keep it in check.

I have recently gotten set up with VA in San Diego with a little help from another vet here. Since covid the appointments are telehealth. It's convenient, and I'm sure my organs are safe.

You can laugh at that too. Its ok.

My whole life is a bunch of work arounds. From therapy I have learned to reflect. Yeah, that's the word, reflect. I have been reflecting on my past, looking at the times where I wondered how everything would be going great, my family would be content, not a want in the world, and then I would make some irrational decision that uprooted our family more than once, all because I had some delusional, grandiose plan to do something better. How I got to those points was by working around my illness, mostly through denial.

I hurt my family. I managed to make us homeless, penniless on more than one occasion, and failed to provide a stable home at times. All a result of my stubbornness, and denial of what was really going on in my head. I will say this though. I probably would have gotten treatment sooner had I not got involved in the charismatic church.

A couple of years into my marriage, we decided that it would be the responsible parent thing to raise our kids in the church. I had heard voices on and off since my last year in the Army. I was twenty three then. This was ten years past that, and they were starting to become more regular. One of those voices identified itself as God while I was praying one day. I believed it. That voice provided the confirmation I needed to prove I was chosen by God.

That delusion had a shelf life of about 15 years, until the voice started turning on me. I was in my late 40s by then, and started thinking I may have a problem. I tried self medicating with weed and alcohol. Remarkably that worked for a bit. Towards the end I left a great paying job to start my own business. I started the business on a hypomanic whim. I lost the business in a psychotic and deep depression.

My illness was getting worse. I had enough sense to realize it, but it took a splendidly botched suicide attempt, followed by another attempt that was, for no other explaination, the universe intervening, to make me own it. Without treatment, without medication, I know I would not be writing this today. I wish I had done it sooner than later. But at least I did it.

My typical day is a lot less distressing now. I wake up early, usually around 4am. If it's just the crowd noise I'll lay in bed, daydream, commit to doing something productive. If the crowd noise is light, it's somewhat soothing, and I may nod off for thirty minutes. Most of the time I just get up.

As I'm making the coffee the voices start. One of my voices, the lesser of the two, always yells just one word. There's variety from day to day most times. The last month or so it has stayed with, shitgibbon. That makes me giggle, probably like a crazy man. It helps me cope with God calling me little faggot and reminding me of past traumas. How I look on the outside is a crying, giggling mess. On the inside I am vibrating and super tense, feeling like I used to just before a fight.

That last part is PTSD

I hate PTSD. Dealing with it has pointed to the festering, untreated wounds from past traumas. I know I need to hit it head on, and that in doing so I can get better. I'm not going to lie. These wounds are painful. There's pain in healing, so I continue. Still hate it though.

That's just part of what's up with Chuck. I plan on delving deeper into my illness and sharing all of it as time goes on. On January 1, 2020 I made a new year resolution. It was the only one I have ever made, and so far I'm keeping to it. Until I die, can't speak, or get shot by a cop for being out of my mind, I will share everything, not for sympathy. I don't want that. I don't think any of us living with mental Illness want that. No, we want understanding. And if I can help in others understanding I believe we can break the stigma of mental illness. Seriously, no question is wrong. How can you understand if you don't ask?

Ask away.

My Delusions

Many, if not all of you reading this, know that I live with mental illness. My original diagnosis is major depression with psychotic features. Upon reading that it would appear that I'm a psycho sad boy. What it means is that I hear and see shit, and have delusional thoughts, not all at once, and not all the time.

My other diagnosis is schitzoaffective. Basically that is schizophrenia with a mood disorder. In my case that would be major depression. This diagnosis was brought up in my last appointment just before I moved from KC to California. I haven't been to the Dr since moving here. My delusional thoughts had me convinced the VA wanted to harm and violate me.

I'll go into that particular delusion in a bit.

We should probably define what a delusion is and isn't.

I took this from Cleveland Clinics website. A link is provided at the end of this.

Erotomanic. Someone with this type of delusional disorder believes that another person, often someone important or famous, is in love with him or her. The person might attempt to contact the object of the delusion, and stalking behavior is not uncommon.

Grandiose. A person with this type of delusional disorder has an over-inflated sense of worth, power, knowledge, or identity. The person might believe he or she has a great talent or has made an important discovery.

Jealous. A person with this type of delusional disorder believes that his or her spouse or sexual partner is unfaithful.

Persecutory. People with this type of delusional disorder believe that they (or someone close to them) are being mistreated, or that someone is spying on them or planning to harm them. It is not uncommon for people with this type of delusional disorder to make repeated complaints to legal authorities.

Somatic. A person with this type of delusional disorder believes that he or she has a physical defect or medical problem.

Mixed. People with this type of delusional disorder have two or more of the types of delusions listed above.

I tend to stay within the persecutory vein of delusions. I had a delusion that centered on god and me being his conduit to speak to his people. One of my voices identified as god and I believed it.

Side note: I still have that voice, I call him "The voice formerly known as god". He's not so godlike these days. In fact, hes an asshole.

Right about the time I was admitted into the VA hospital I somehow acquired a new delusion where I believe that the VA only wants to admit me to harvest my organs for returning wounded soldiers. I stood outside a clinic in the cold one time for what seemed like forever, crippled with fear that they were going to drug me and steal my organs. Irrational yes. But it felt every bit as real as standing in front of a speeding bus waiting for the inevitable.

Another delusion I have been carrying around since my military service involves a thought transmitter in my right ear. Through that transmitter they can follow me anywhere in the universe.

I should note that these delusions are pretty fixed, meaning, with the exception of my god delusion, they have been floating around my head for a hot minute.

Now, I don't always hold a strong belief in these delusions. My belief is kind of like an erratic waveform, with random highs and lows. Meaning that I don't always fully believe my delusions. If I catch it early enough I can usually keep them at least at bay

What I have been finding out is that my anxiety tends to trigger my delusions, and hallucinations.

My anxiety plays a big role in my illness. It is the trigger for my auditory hallucinations volume. The noise is always there, the level of intensity changes with my levels of anxiety.

For me, delusions are never random. The paranoia associated with it, the stares from strangers, play within my two delusions. They have a fixed topic. They will ebb and flow with intensity, but the delusion never changes. There is always the possibility of a new delusion in my future. My most recent is the VA harvesting organs impasse. So yeah, yay brain!

This is my personal experience with my illness. Since we live in the age of social media, I have joined a couple groups that center on my particular illness. In those groups I can say things that only a schizo will understand. Shared experiences, different manifestations. One thing I think we all share is that we feel invisible at times.

One last thing about delusions. They do not hinder intelect in any way other than what is directly related to that delusional topic. My worldview does not change. My normal, socially acceptable, views remain intact in my psychosis. I possess strong feelings about what is right and wrong that is based on common human decency and what it means. Those feelings do not change because I happen to think that the battery in the thought transmitter is leaking into my ear.

I'm glad to say that through CBT and meds I have not had an issue in about eight months that I couldn't stop before it got out of hand. Intelect still intact.

https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/9599-delusional-disorder