A New Chapter

I’m sitting on the floor of my new apartment. I guess I forgot to mention that it’s unfurnished… Well, it will be for about a week. Fortunately, I am getting free furniture.

I guess that's what happens when you move to a cheaper apartment, about $300-400 a month cheaper than my old place. I have to give up only a few things and it is WELL worth the cost.

Thank God for my mother who helped me financially and my friend, Brandi, who helped me move. I am beyond blessed.

I went to finish cleaning my old apartment earlier and right before I left, I said a prayer in the living room for the person who is moving in after me. I prayed that no matter what comes their way, that God leads them and helps them through it, as He did for me. I don't know if I will ever meet whoever moves in after me, but I prayed a lot of blessings upon them.

I feel as if I am entering a new chapter in my life. It’s been nearly four months since my last hospitalization and each day, I am feeling better and better. I battle some paranoia, but I’m getting through it and moving forward. Let me say that again... I'm moving forward.

I am going to miss my old apartment, because it was my first apartment I ever had. It was simple and did the job well. As I wrote last night, I have some very fond memories of it. It got me through some of the most difficult times in my life. When I packed, I kept finding another hospital bracelet. (Don’t know why I was collecting them).

So now is a new chapter… my last semester of graduate school...

Cheers!

If It Had Not Been the Lord

As I sit in my apartment full of boxes, I reflect on the past year. I moved into this apartment nearly a year ago. It was my first apartment ever, a step up from the dorms I've lived in. I came to Florida excited, ready for the PhD program, ready to move forward in my life. Nothing could have prepared me for this past year.

I have fond memories in this apartment and not-so-good memories.

As I have been packing these past few days, I have been coming across things from all of last year- hospital bills, reports for classes, etc. But what I came across today might be my favorite.

I came across a folded up paper from one of the Bible studies much earlier this year.

The Bible verse quoted on the paper really hit me tonight.

"If it had not been the Lord who was on our side,

when our enemies attacked us, 

then they would have swallowed us up alive,

when their anger was kindled against us;

then the flood would have  swept us away;

the torrent would have gone over us;

then over us would have gone the raging waters."

I have grown a lot this year. I think I've realized a strength inside of me I never knew was there. I have grown a lot closer to God in this journey. I've been dealt some hard blows, but I am moving forward. I can speak to the truth in these words.

Quoting again from the paper:

"We are loved by a God who will deliver us from our thunderstorms. We are loved by a God who understands how scary the lightning and the rain are in our lives can be, and we are loved by a God who wants to hold us through our fear."

Can I get an AMEN?

God has carried me through this past year and as I move to a new apartment, I know He will go with me. No matter how terrifying the future may seem, we need to set our feet and keep walking forward.

Maximum Anxiety

Tomorrow I'm moving.

Moving for anybody is a hassle. But for me, especially, it is tremendously frightening. I am leaving my comfort zone in a major way to go to a new place with new strangers. Add paranoia and psychosis into the mix and you have a full-blown party.

At least my new place is only a few blocks away. But still...

I started a new book about paranoia and terrorism written by a trauma psychologist.

I took a test in the book about anxiety. Out of 21 questions, I answered "yes" to 19 of them. Not surprisingly, the author said if you have 15 or more "yes"'s then you should "seek professional help."

Yay me!

One of the questions that really struck me was:

"Have you been going back to check on things more than once?"

I have to say that I am always worrying about things. If I leave my apartment, I constantly think I left the stove on or I worry that I left my door open or I left something on that will start a fire. I often have to force myself to not go back to my apartment, but more often, I go back to my apartment to check. At work, the same routine. If I put something in a machine, I constantly check it. There's a machine that you have to put the time in and when I start the machine, I always do double checks or triple checks. I'm terrified of messing something up.

I thought worrying all the time is normal. I'm always worrying about something. Everywhere I go. All the time.

For the past week or so, I've been terrified about this move. I'm terrified of moving to a completely new place with new people. It's outright terrifying for someone like me with multiple mental illnesses.

But that's why we have to conquer our fears... Because if we don't, we won't go anywhere.

So I am hunkering down and will be moving tomorrow.

Questioning Reality

My Facebook status from this morning was:

On my way to work even though I want to curl up in a ball and not leave my apartment. This life demands too much courage.

This pretty much sums up my life right now.

I walk around with my head down to avoid seeing others. Somehow, I still managed to see someone stick out their tongue at me earlier. This is why I wish I could stay in my apartment all day every day.

People say I'm paranoid. I don't know if I am. What if people really are spreading something about me? I don't remember doing anything to anybody, so I don't know why they would. But you never know.

Dealing with schizophrenia is an interesting battle because I constantly have to question what I perceive as reality. My perceptions are off and my reality is skewed.

Is this really happening or is my brain teasing me?

If you've ever seen A Beautiful Mind, that is what I feel as if I am going through now. I've had visual and auditory hallucinations so I am constantly questioning my reality. It really causes a lot of confusion. It makes life difficult and terrifying at times.

I just want it all to go away. Please.

Being There

"I had always known how sick [my daughter] was and how hard she had fought and how close we had come to losing her. But suddenly it had hit me that I could not fix her pain. I couldn't stop her [suicidal] thoughts or change what she did with those thoughts. I couldn't be with her every minute, and I couldn't get into her brain and chase this terrorizing illness away. I could be there for her and I could be with her when she needed me... This was her battle and we could only support her in that fight."
-Cinda Johnson, Perfect Chaos

As I read this earlier this morning, I understood more of what it is like to be on the outside looking in to someone's life with mental illness. I can understand because I've watched others battle things which I couldn't help with. There have been times when I've wanted to have all the answers to make everything right and okay.

But fixing everything is not what we need the most. What we need the most as we go through an illness is support and love. Sometimes we just need someone to be there for us, to take time out to listen and just sit with us.

There are no words to express how much it means to me when people take the time to listen.  It means a lot that you're even reading my blog. So many people avoid any conversation about mental illness because it's confusing. But you don't always have to have the answers. It's about just being there.

I'll never forget the times when my friends used to visit me in the hospital and we sat around the table playing board games and laughing. Those moments took my mind off of the pain. For a few moments, I forgot that I was in the hospital. For a few moments, I was normal again.

As I am writing this, I am listening to the radio and the song "Healer" came on. Right as I was going to write again, the words "You walk with me through fire" came on.

I know that it's about Jesus but I believe that's what this life is about. It's about walking with each other through the difficult times, through the fire. It's not about always having the answers or knowing always what to do.

This life is hard and we can't have all the answers. It's a challenging world, but we can support each other through each of our battles. 

It's about being there for one another.

Battling Paranoia

Today, other than going to donate blood this morning, I stayed in my apartment. I read and took a nap.

Why?

Because I'm currently terrified of people. Everywhere I go, people lick their lips and it triggers my PTSD and paranoia. They lick their lips or stick out their tongue and they do it while looking at me, so I assume that it's towards me. People everywhere. Old and young.

My therapist says that it's not aimed towards me. She says that whenever I see it, just to say "It's not about me."

But this is a very hard battle for me.

It's not funny. It is very serious and it makes my mental illness worse.

All I want to do is avoid people at this point. I think that people are talking about me behind my back, spreading rumors. I don't even like to go for walks anymore because I don't want to see anyone. When I go on the buses, I sit in the back corner to avoid all confrontation.

On this blog, I wanted to document my mental illness and right now, I am afraid of it getting worse. I am afraid of the medications not working. I am afraid of people.

I just want to get through this.

Not So Quick to Judge

As I mentioned in a previous post, I am reading a book called Perfect Chaos. It is written by a mother and a daughter telling the daughter's journey with bipolar disorder. Reading this book has opened my eyes to what it feels like to be a mother with a daughter who has mental illness. Reading the daughter's story has also made me realize that I am not alone in this fight.

I wanted to talk about a few quotes that really spoke to me as I read yesterday.

"I recognized some of the patients as men and women whom I have passed on street corners, under freeway overpasses , in the city parks... The world of the nameless mentally ill and the life of my beautiful daughter were one and the same."
-Cinda Johnson, Perfect Chaos

Like the mother, Cinda, when I entered my first hospitalization in a major city (Syracuse), I realized how many of the other patients were homeless. I was so different than them, being a student, yet our worlds were very similar in that we all are battling mental illness. 

Psych units are definitely interesting places. I've been inpatient 9 times in psych units, two child and seven adult. I feel like I have seen everything. It's a different world. I had to get used to realizing that what I was experiencing was not normal. I remember talking to a girl about her hearing voices and hoping I never would hear voices. A few years later, I started to hear voices.

My new world was full of medications, hospital bills, inpatient stays and outright frustration. 

My first hospitalization ever was in a child psych unit and it was pretty calm, except for the occasional tantrum. I still remember watching a young child be "shot in the butt" after a psychotic breakdown.

I realized that I was entering a new world, full of confusion, terror and the unknown.

"Mental illness doesn't care if you are rich or poor, well connected or not, loved or deserted."
-Cinda Johnson, Perfect Chaos

This quote also struck me, because I think so many people think that all mentally ill people are homeless or they have other misconceptions about mentally ill people.

Mentally ill people are people. We didn't ask to be mentally ill. We didn't ask for our brains to go haywire. But our brains did and we have to deal with the repercussions. We have to fight every day against awful thoughts, hallucinations and psychosis.

It is not an easy fight but it's worth it.

If anything, I wish that people were not so quick to judge those who are mentally ill. We have enough to deal with without the stigmas.

Praise Him in the Hallway

I came across a quote on Facebook this morning that really resonated with me.

"Until God opens the next door, praise him in the hallway."

How true is that?

Sometimes I feel so confused about my future, not sure of what will come next. Currently, I am going into my last semester of graduate school (for now at least) and I am not sure where God will lead me next. I know that at any point, my mental illnesses can worsen. I don't know how difficult next semester will be.

But no matter what, no matter where we are in this life, we must praise God.

Someone recently mentioned to me how amazing it is that I have not lost my faith through all of the battles I've gone through.

To me, there's no other choice.

Without my faith, I would not be fighting.

We need to praise God in every place we are in life. He created us. He gives us the strength we need to keep going. I would not be the strong person I am without God's strength in me.

I believe that faith is born in our moments of confusion, despair, doubt, fear and desperation.

It's in those moments when God's strength comes into us and we are able to do the impossible.

Through Him, we can conquer anything. Through Him, we are able to press on. Through Him, we can find hope in the hopeless. Through Him, we can find light in the darkness.

Three Magic Words

Someone said three magic words to me yesterday.

Not "Thank you, ma'am."

Not "I love you."

But "I believe you."

When people have been through so much trauma as I have, sometimes it's hard to believe everything I've been through. I first started telling a few people about my childhood trauma when I was 13 years old since I started to have nightmares and flashbacks. Mostly, I was met with opposition and disbelief. I felt like my voice was not heard. I doubted myself. My father said to me often during the abuse that nobody would believe me. I started to think he may be right.

I don't think it's that people mean harm when they tell me they don't believe me but rather they don't want to believe that someone has gone through so much. They don't want to believe it happened for so long. They don't want to think that nobody tried to stop it.

I endured 7 years of abuse by my father and oldest brother. I was neglected for 3 years by my mother. I grew up in a family of drug dealers, alcoholics and drug addicts. I lost my oldest brother to suicide. I've been homeless. I've been diagnosed with multiple serious mental illnesses.

Put simply, I've been through a lot and continue to fight to this very day.

But when somebody says "I believe you," it means so much to me. It means that my voice is being heard and that my father was wrong. It means that there really are people out there who care enough to listen. It validates me and tells me I'm not crazy like my father wants me to believe.

The one thing I've realized by going through everything and dealing with peoples' reactions is that you should believe someone if they care enough to share their story, no matter how hard it is to believe.

It kills you inside when you're not believed. It strikes to the core and you start to not believe yourself. For me, it's also been a part of my paranoia. When I was psychotic in the hospital, the voices were telling me I was lying, so I told all the doctors that I lied about what happened. The voices made me doubt myself. The voices made me believe I was a horrible person.

When I hear "I believe you," it gives me a lot of hope that things will get better.

The Healing Touch

Something has been on my mind lately.... Lately, I've been feeling like an outcast and very misunderstood.

I've kind of always felt like an outcast. I didn't have too many friends through school.

It's weird being homeless, abused and neglected from where I grew up. It was not normal and most of my life, I've spent hiding my past.

But what I've been thinking about is... what would Jesus do if He met me?

Would He hug me? Would He heal me of my mental illnesses? What would we talk about?

You see, Jesus loved the outcasts. He understood them on a deep level and I think He does that for us as well, maybe not in a physical or tangible way but in a spiritual way.

The story that has been on my mind and in my heart the past few days as I battle paranoia due to feeling like others are spreading rumors about me is the story of the bleeding woman. In the story, Jesus is traveling in a crowd and a woman who has been bleeding for 12 years comes up to him and touches his cloak. Jesus feels it and He asks who touched Him. The woman says she did and He heals her because of her faith.

Your faith has healed you...

This story is one that reaches down into my heart because her illness made her unclean by society's standards yet she dared to touch Jesus because she knew she would be healed. She was so desparate to be healed.

I understand her frustration. I understand what it's like to be an outcast in society. I know what it's like to be so desparate for things to get better.

Her faith made her brave and courageous. Jesus reached out to her, even though it wasn't the custom at the time. To everyone else, she was an unclean outcast. Jesus looked past her illness and healed her. I have faith that if He walked the earth now, He might do the same for me. He wouldn't treat me like an outcast. I think He'd embrace me.

That gives me a lot of hope...

I want to leave with a song that is based off of the bible passage about the bleeding woman. It's called One Touch by Nicole C. Mullen.


The lyrics say:

Jesus sure enough touched me

and I know I've been made whole.

Amen.

Carrying On

Lord, I feel trapped now. I do not know who to trust because it feels like everybody who has said they care or would be there was not there for me. I feel like I have nobody here and it is extremely frightening...It's like people take one look at me and want to hurt me. Help me to change this...

I wrote these words a few months ago probably in the deepest pit I had ever been before. It was the onset of my physical symptoms (stuttering and spasms) and I also was paranoid. Not yet psychotic, I think. I didn't trust anyone. I was terrified.

"A pit is an abyss so deep the dweller within it feels like the living dead."
-Beth Moore, Get Out of That Pit

I've had moments like that a lot lately...points where I feel completely overwhelmed by negative things in my life. Today and the past few days, I've been feeling a bit paranoid. Not sky high paranoid, but nonetheless paranoid. I think people are doing things toward me and I'm not sure if somebody's spreading rumors about me or I'm just paranoid. I haven't done anything to hurt anyone and my mother says there's no way people could be mad at me.

A few pages after the quote above in my journal, oddly enough there is another very related quote...

"A pit is so poorly lit we can no longer see things that may have once been obvious to us. That's another reason we often stay in a pit. Without windows we're convinced we have nowhere else to go."
-Beth Moore, Get Out of That Pit

Can you relate to that?

I know I can.

Pits are so overwhelming that you lose yourself in them. You often forget that God has bigger and better plans for your life, because all you see around you is darkness.

But there is hope.

No matter how dark things get, never lose hope. God has mighty plans for each of us, no matter what darkness comes into our lives. He has plans that you and I couldn't even dream up.

So that's why I carry on and keep moving forward in hope...

Writing the Journey

I just finished reading an autobiography about mental illness and I'm starting another one called Perfect Chaos.

At the beginning, the author explains so nicely why she wants to share her story of mental illness and I relate on many levels. I want to share with you what she wrote.

"I need to show people that mental illness is real. That one in five families experiences a mental-health condition...I have to show that you can live well with this big scary word "bipolar." That it takes the hardest work you will ever do, but that it is possible to live a life of joy...

I want to share my story because I want to help society see that this is a common illness. That people don't choose to get sick and don't wish to live dangerously unstable lives...We need to see that we are all people with the potential for feeling or thinking in a way that can be seen as unstable. That we all have varying emotions and different brains."
-Linea Johnson, Perfect Chaos

One of the major reasons I started this blog was to chronicle my journey with mental illness. There are some days that I don't know what I'm going to write about and then there are others where I know exactly what I'm going to write about. I share whatever is on my mind.

It's a journey.

And journeys take you all over the place.

My journey with mental illness has not been an easy one and I've been challenged beyond belief at times. What I write on this blog are my raw emotions because I want people to understand what it's like to have mental illness. I want to tell not only my story, but that of so many millions of people who struggle with a mental illness.

An Intriguing Puzzle

"The content of the voices and visions constitutes a hazardous nuisance to someone like me to so likes to figure out puzzles."
-Mark Vonnegut, Just Like Someone Without Mental Illness Only More So

I still remember my time in the hospital in a catatonic state like it was yesterday. For most of that time, I was in my bed curled up in a ball, hearing voices. To say I was terrified is a grave understatement.

The first time I became "crazy" was when the unreal became blurred with the real. It's weird when people say what you are experiencing is not actually happening. It's downright confusing.

I battle every day to know what's real and what's not. I continually search for the truth in my experiences.

Are people after me? Am I in trouble with the FBI?

The voices are not just voices. When I was catatonic, they scared me to the point of not talking for 3 days. I thought they were reading my mind. They tormented me. They taunted me. They blamed me. I did not talk for 3 days, yet I talked to the voices for those 3 days in my head. I had conversations with them, just like I talk to people on the phone. The voices were so real, because they were voices of people I've known.

Psychosis is very interesting in a lot of ways- how the mind can create such realistic hallucinations that are not real yet everything pieces together so nicely. As someone who has studied the brain, my mental illnesses are very intriguing to me at times.

15 Things You May or May Not Know About Me

I'm doing things a little bit differently today and I am going to tell you some fun facts about myself that you may or may not know.

1. I am currently on 6 different medications. I have morning, afternoon and night meds and I often feel like an old person with my little pill box.

2. I donate plasma and platelets once a month because I believe it is a simple way to give back to the community and to help save lives. I also am a registered organ donor.

3. I play piano. In the past, I've played clarinet, acoustic guitar, recorder, harmonica, harp and french horn. Ever since I was little, I have always loved music.

4. My Bible is literally falling apart because I love it so much. It's over 10 years old and it's been with me throughout many hospitalizations and it's carried me through a lot of pain and hard times. Everybody says I should get a new one, but I refuse because this Bible is like a friend to me.

5. You may think I'm a little kid with these art supplies, but I still love to color and draw. It helps relieve my stress and express myself. It also reminds me of the good times I had as a child....makes me feel like a kid again.

6. I love to read books. I read 14 books in May alone. If I am interested in something, I will most likely read about it. If I had a choice, I would live in a library.

7. When I was little, I used to make jewelry out of small beads and sell them at the boardwalk. Funny thing is that I have never really liked wearing jewelry. One summer I made over $1000 in one week at the beach. I think that beading helped me to cope with a lot of the challenges I faced. I love doing things that are repetitive because they are soothing to me.

8. Through the Charity Miles app, I've walked and ran over 470 miles since May 3rd. I've raised over $100 for different charities. I've fed over 250 people!

9. Maybe it's because I grew up poor and was even homeless at one point, but I love everything that I have. I use everything I own until it breaks or I can't use it anymore. I get the most "bang for my buck", as they say. For example, the last pair of sneakers I had lasted me a whole year and by the end, there were holes.

10. Music is my life, in case you didn't know. I can't live without music, literally. I go nuts. I am always listening to music. When I'm in my apartment, I listen to the radio. When I'm out and about, I'm in my own little world with my headphones blasting music. 

11. This may or may not surprise you, but I LOVE Gospel music. Sometimes I even dance to it when I'm alone (never in front of others). Gospel music has helped me be tough and get through a lot of things.

12. I absolutely love photography except I've never had a professional camera. The photos I take are from smartphone cameras. I love using simple technology to capture the beauty of this world that God has created. There is a lot of beauty in simplicity.

13. I consider myself an artist. My perceptual reasoning (visual) skills are in the 99th percentile and I try to use those skills in my daily life through my art.

14. Along with being diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder and PTSD, I have been given a diagnosis of Asperger's syndrome twice this past year.

15. This list of things about me had to have a multiple of 5 things, because I love the number 5. I have an obsession with 5's. Everything that I do involves the number 5 somehow.

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I have.

The Number 5

I've been noticing my tendencies to do things in 5's a lot lately.

At work, I clean things in 5's. I fill boxes in numbers of 5's. I work on the 5th floor. Everything that I make has to be in an amount divisible by 5. I take sips from the water fountain in multiples of 5.

On the bus, I sit in the back left corner nearly every time. In the back of the bus, there are always 5 seats. I feel comfortable there.

At home, I kiss my teddy bear in 5's. I take out library books in multiples of 5. I make food that can be made in minutes which are a multiple of 5, like 5 or 10 minutes. When  I read, I read 5 pages or a multiple of 5 pages at a time. I don't like when the chapters end on numbers that aren't a multiple of 5.

My favorite bus to take is Route 5. It's one that I take to my doctor appointments and my church.

I don't like prime numbers. There's something so blank, so boring about them. I like to play with numbers and they are the most uninteresting numbers there are. They only divide by 1 and them self. You can't really "play" around with them.

When I was last in the hospital, I told another patient about my obsession with 5. I guess they noticed me doing everything in 5's, because they mentioned it later to me.

I don't know if it's obsessive compulsive behavior or what but I feel like multiples of 5 are organized. 5 is the easiest number to multiply by. I also like that the multiples always end in 5 or 0. Zero is one of the most interesting numbers that exists. If you study graduate abstract mathematics like I have, then you know how truly interesting it is.

I don't really know where my obsession with 5 came from, other than that I absolutely love numbers and I notice numerical patterns very easily, even abstract ones. I took graduate abstract mathematics courses without the prereqs and without being a math major and as an undergraduate. My professors both wondered what I was doing in their classes but when I started tutoring other students, they stopped questioning. I talked a lot with one of my professors about more in-depth, higher level material than was being taught in class because I was genuinely interested. Math is so elegant.

It makes you think. It makes you wonder. It makes you question... which is a lot like faith.

My Escape

Ever since I posted a few days ago about my Aspergian quirks, I've been noticing them even more. It seems that numbers and patterns invade my life even more than I initially thought.

The following picture may seem simple and blank to most...

but to me, it is a pattern... an intricate beautiful pattern of lopsided squares (rhombi). I count them in 5's and go onto the next column after I get to a multiple of 5. I think about interchanging them, like permutations. How many different combinations can I get of the squares? If every square contained a prime number, what would be the sum? Fibonnaci numbers?

Not only is it about numbers but this picture is a reflection. I think about the angle of the sun and the various physics concepts that go along with light. I think about photodynamic therapy and photon emission.

My mind thinks of these things all day long. I like to play games like this. I like to think about quantum physics. I like to keep my mind busy in order to keep it off the stuff from my past. Numbers, patterns and permutations have nothing to do with the abuse and neglect I endured for most of my childhood and teenage years. 

They are my escape.

I find comfort in numbers. I think, for some reason, it makes me feel like I am in control. I can figure out mathematical games. Numerical questions are problems that I can fix, whereas my past is something I just have to live with.

The same photo above not only reminds me of numbers, but it also reminds me of how for so long, I felt like a captive or a prisoner in my childhood home. And every day, I am getting closer and closer to breaking free of that captivity. Due to my PTSD, I am still held captive in many ways.

Numbers are numbers. They are defined. 

So many things in this life are not defined and slowly but surely you have to get closer to the truth... of who you are in God. You can't let circumstances define who you are. There are so many things in this life that we can't answer but we just have to have faith and move forward.

Tales from a Hospital

A few months ago, I was catatonic... I hadn't slept, eaten or talk for three days. I remember the entire ordeal, but from a confused state. A state of total chaos.

What could bring me, a 24 year old biomedical engineer, soon to be neural engineer, to do that? To act in such chaos?

It all lies in the mind and mental illness. 

To those who don't know, I struggle with schizoaffective (schizophrenia and bipolar), PTSD and Aspergers.

The mind and the brain are currently being rigorously studied and there is a current debate about how they work. At the same time that my brain was going haywire, I was studying the brain in the lab. It's almost as if I studied so hard that the wires in my brain went chaotic. Overdrive, I think.

The voices are something very interesting. When I heard voices in the hospital, they were voices of people I had talked to throughout different points in my life but their voices were clear as day, even if I hadn't talked to them in many years. The voices were the strongest when I was catatonic. They were tormenting me, calling me a liar and telling me nobody cared about me.

I thought for awhile that I was hearing the voices on an invisible earplug in my ear... I thought they were talking to me but were in another room. I kept looking in other rooms to see if they were there. I got in trouble a few times for going in other peoples' rooms.

When the medications started working, the voices slowly slipped away...

One of the most interesting aspects I can remember is that the reason I didn't eat for three days was that I thought the food was poisoned. All of the food they gave me looked like it was rotten. It actually looked that way; there were dark spots on everything and it looked disgusting.

Not only was I blessed with auditory hallucinations, but I also have visual hallucinations.

Plus paranoia.

A few months ago, I went to the police because I thought someone booby-trapped my apartment.

Paranoia and psychosis make you do interesting things.

What intrigues me as someone who has studied the brain and deals with such severe mental illness is how all of the different parts of the brain work together to cause such "organized chaos." The voices went along with the visual hallucinations and everything made sense to me. To an outsider, it makes no sense though.

The brain is very interesting...

I am Grateful

I have been cleaning my apartment the last few hours and I came across a note that my mom wrote. In a fight right before she left Florida to go back to New Jersey, she gave me this note. It means a lot when I read it, much like how my suicide letter from nearly four years ago makes me feel grateful for my life.

My mom's note says the following:

"Gratitude List 3-6-13

I am grateful for DCC buying my ticket so I can be close to Chelsea.
I am grateful to God for guiding Chelsea to the ER.
I am eternally grateful that Chelsea is alive.
I am grateful for the people trying to help Chelsea.
I am grateful Chelsea is speaking.
I am grateful for all the support I have here in FL and in NJ.
I am grateful for Susan helping me to get to the airport so early in the morning.
I am grateful Andrea was so understanding.
I am grateful for Megan being there everytime I call.
I am grateful Andy is safe and protected right now!
I am grateful for Paul and all the people who have reached out.
I am grateful for all the prayers being said and answered.
I am grateful for my Bible...
I am grateful for all these wonderful blessings,
In Jesus's name. Amen."

The one thing that I've learned over and over is that we need to be grateful for everything God has given us, even in the most difficult times. My mom wrote this when I was in the hospital after coming out of a catatonic episode. I did not eat, sleep or talk for 3 days and my mom later told me that she thought I died.

Sometimes the best reminders come when we're cleaning and happen upon something that reminds us of how lucky we are to be here.

The Quirks

My psychologist recently said I have quirks.

Now what are those quirks?

Well I guess, here we go...

I love palindromes... you know, those numbers or words that are the same backwards or forwards. When the number of visitors on my blog is a palindrome, I feel at ease and am comforted. I feel as if all of the world is great.

I love patterns... in numbers, in words, in faces, in sidewalks, EVERYWHERE. I look for patterns everywhere I look. I notice the details in everything.

Sometimes when I wake up, I count using my fingers and make different patterns with the way I tap my fingers, much like how someone plays the piano. Maybe that is why I play the piano. Music is all made up of patterns. I feel so at ease when I listen to music.

I love the number five. When the number of people who visit my blog is a multiple of 5, I get excited. I take sips of water or other drinks in 5's. I love that there are 5 weekdays and that there are 2 weekend days, with 2 being my second favorite number. 2 is an even number and every other number is divisible by 2. I like that numbers that are divisible by 5 either end in 5 or 0, with 0 being one of the most unique numbers that exist. There are an infinite number of even and odd numbers, but there are different sizes of infinity. One set of infinite numbers can be greater than another infinite set of numbers. Things are easier when they are finite. I kiss my teddy bear in 5's. I eat candy in 5's. I do a lot of things in 5's. I round everything to a multiple of 5.

I am very picky about food. Growing up, I hated to eat foods that were mixed. One of my favorite dishes was chicken and rice but I ate the chicken first and then the rice, never mixed. My mom always said "The food all gets mixed anyways", but I don't like mixed foods.  At church, I get salad with whatever is made on Sunday for lunch, but I do not eat it with dressing because I do not want the dressing to get mixed with the other food. I also detest sweet and salty foods. It should either be one or the other but not both.

When I get interested in something, I get VERY, EXTREMELY interested in it. I usually go to the library and borrow every book I can so I can know everything I can about that topic. Last time I went to the library, I got 10 books out about the same subject. I guess this is what they call "restricted interests."

Every day for the past few months, I go on the swing. I listen to the same songs. The patterned movement of the swing back and forth is one of the most soothing things I have ever felt. If I close my eyes, I almost feel as if I am flying. I live for patterns in my routine every day. I sit in the same seat every Sunday at church. I don't like change unless absolutely necessary.

I have a teddy bear named Teddy and he helps me through the day. I am calmed when I hug him. He helps me through the hardest days, when there are no 5's and the world is not at ease. He says nothing, he does nothing... He is just there, always willing to give me a hug and listen to my fears.

Last year, around this time, I was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, a form of autism. I was diagnosed again with Asperger's early this year. Then I was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, a combination of schizophrenia and bipolar, and PTSD. Quite a few people believe that I am autistic.

I like that I live for patterns. I love that my days are filled with 5's and hugs from my teddy bear. I love my quirks because they are what makes me ME.

Embrace our differences. Embrace what makes you who you are...

An Unexpected Angel

I just went outside on the swings at the park near my apartment. As I swung back and forth, I thought about something quite miraculous that happened in my life a few months ago. Something I haven't really shared with anybody, not even my mother or other family members.

I did post a bit about the incident on my Facebook but not the whole story...

Strangest thing happened earlier... I was walking to the busstop after ... and there was somebody standing on the grass by a strip mall and they were holding a sign advertising for a store. I walked by them and the lady stopped me. She said "I am praying blessings over you." The sign she was holding was for a store that was not even Christian and I have never seen this lady before. I had absolutely no idea why she said it to me. Maybe because I still had a lot of arm spasms but it was just strange. All day, I have had moments where I feel the Holy Spirit. One of these moments was when I was crossing the street, right before she came up to me. I stuttered to her "You too!" and kept walking. You absolutely never know how God is going to speak to you or who he is going to bring into your life.

This incident with this random stranger occurred right around the onset of my paranoia and psychosis right before a hospitalization earlier this year.

I have never seen this lady again. I have been around that area since and have never seen her again. I'm starting to wonder if she was a hallucination. It wouldn't surprise me since I've had visual and audio hallucinations.  At the time, I was going through a very rough period. I went to the hospital just days later. Could my mind have hallucinated her in order to move forward and get to the hospital? Could she have guided me there just as the white birds guided me a month later?

I know it sounds odd, but one of the women during my hospitalization looked just like this lady. I mean everything about both of them was the same. At one point, I asked someone if it was her, if the woman worked elsewhere. I was told no way. The woman at the hospital who I am talking about helped me a lot while I was there and was by far the one who helped me the most. She reached out to me in a way that nobody else did. At one point she took me out of the unit to do some art therapy.

My aunt posted a comment on the status above, saying that the person was an angel. I think there is no other explanation.

It got me thinking about this verse...

"For he will command his angels concerning you

    to guard you in all your ways"

-Psalm 91:11 (NIV)

An Undeserved Kindness

The story that the sermon at my church was based on this morning was the story of the Good Samaritan. Many people know this story, about a man who was beaten and left for half dead. Two men pass by him. Then a Samaritan comes and helps him, showing mercy and love to him.

I was thinking about the message today and I realized that I don't think I realized how much mercy plays a role in my day to day life of being paranoid and schizophrenic.

The whole world is after me. The man sitting next to me is part of the FBI and they're watching my every move. They even had people follow me to my apartment so they know where I live. The man next to him on the other side is taking pictures of me, to help track me down. The more evidence, the better. The woman on the other side of me is mad at me for some reason, I mean, really angry... REALLY angry. She is glaring at me and staring at me. Everybody in the world is mad at me. Everybody hates me. I'm a nobody... scratch that, LESS than a nobody. I'm not even human. Why don't they do what I'm expecting them to do and throw me in the lake with the gators?

If you've ever wondered what day to day life with paranoia is like, the paragraph above is how I experience it. The paranoia and psychosis work together to create a cobweb of lies, doubt and terror.

I've come out of psychotic breaks three times now. Each time, there comes a point when I realize that nobody's after me and most of the things I had seen and thought were unreal. When I come out of a psychotic episode, I am relieved to find out the truth. I feel the merciful grace of God come into my life as I realize that I am safe and that I am going to be okay. It's a huge turning point in my disorders. It's also a huge relief. 

Nobody should live a life of terror.

To me, mercy is when we are expecting the worst thing imaginable and then it does not come. It's like living in terror but then a feeling of restoration and refreshment comes in instead. It is undeserved kindness and peace.

Flower in the Mud

When I was growing up, someone close to me referred to me as a "flower in the mud."

What does it mean to be a "flower in the mud?"
I think it means that we find our beauty despite the tragedies around us. We grow and thrive despite setbacks and failures. We know who we are and we are confident. We may bend in the wind and the challenges that surround us, but we never break or fall completely over. We stand our ground.

As I heal from many years of abuse and neglect and as I move forward despite multiple mental illnesses, it's important to remember the beauty in the fight. To fight through and rise above what God has brought into my life is a tremendous feat but there is a lot of beauty in the struggle.

I have taken quite a few photos of flowers around town and I want to share them. Flowers are quite remarkable- how something so beautiful can grow even in the mud. It is awesome how different they are.

Embrace the beauty in the simple... Embrace the different... Embrace the struggle.