schizophrenia vicious Doctor: "What does the expression, 'The proof of the pudding is in the eating' mean to you?" Patient: "That's my pudding, doctor. All God give forgiveness. Oh, mamma, why did they make expensive weddings? Why don't they stay home, mamma?" 000109 ... Joana. Why can't you shut up? I'm trying to help you. Stop it, please. You're annoying. Don't say that! I didn't say that! Could you shut up, PLEASE?? I will if you start listening to me. That's impossible. Then I won't shut up. LALALALALALA!! Singing won't help you ignoring me. I'm still here. You're still there.... just help me making sense, please... and leave my life then... I will indeed try. But you must be strong and you must ignore outside influences... *Cries*... I can't... I'm too weak... You've been ignoring people for this long... it won't be hard ignoring them a bit more... It will. I'm sure it will. I'm not that strong. People are evil. Then we will kill them. There. They're gone. They no longer exist inside of us. You are free. Can you help me now? Sure. Why not? |*|*|*|How can you ever help yourself if you're so bloody insane??|*|*|*| 000109 ... deb her way of dealing i think though, she doesn't fit the dictionary definition, not really... she just hides behind the people who can help her- they just happen to be within herself but what happens, dear, when you run out of characters and jennifer is not ok anymore? what happens then? pain comes back no matter how hard you try to push it away and it comes back stronger the longer it is put off i know this. please listen to me, all of you, of her, you don't have to hide it's ok to cry 000112 ... vicious all of me is alive in myself and nothing can die without the aid of the others I am a self-surviving organism, and I thrive from within 000113 ... psyki i am so confused. and i don't know what to do. and i don't know what to do and it makes me want to cry. weep. sleep. for weeks without end. i'd like to climb the walls and be free for a while before the karma police catch me and make me cry more. it makes me sad sometimes, being as crazy as i am. at least timothy the magic wasp still loves me. 000122 ... anastacia my calliope plays. my colors swim. I intoxicate the children. dizzy indifference. synthaesia creeps. nature is glorified. the wild west is tamed. like you. you shrew. haha. dizzy mania. amnesia. we dance in the sky. we hold hand through a haze. here i don't exist. i laughed in their faces. scissors and stripes. and me. do you remember the face? i gave them my arms. i looked like a saint. 000318 ... Brad the name of an oh-so-delightful Wayne Shorter album from the 60s. I think my favorite wayne shorter album ever... with joe chambers, ron carter, herbie hancock, james spaulding, and curtis fuller. Great great music. 000319 ... grasshopper quiet your mind. breath deeply. in in in in in in in in in ouuuuuutttttttt why are you fighting with yourself? embrace the quiet, calm voice and silence the rest. 000502 ... MollyGoLightly I know I shouldn't laugh, but it's so funny when he yells those things. No one can really tell if it's the skitzy or the gallons upon gallons of beer. 000524 ... SaMaNtHa i live next door to a schizophrenic...she's kind of strange. she is 52, carries a stuffed rabbit and yells at herself... she controls "air traffic" in the driveway.... hides at the bottom of the pool... she smokes weed though, so she's cool i envy her because she is in her own world, and i can't be in my own...it's not fair... 000901 ... birdmad grendel 000902 ... yes we are no i'm not 000902 ... guitar_freak I went to my therepist and I saw my test results. He said I don't think clearly and that we had a lot of work to do... I looked at the sheet and it said schizophrenia. They think I am phsycotic! that is the strangest feeling in the world. 001104 ... Photophobe I admire you for having the courage to get tested. I just pretend nothings wrong... Surely coping by myself is better than being doped up... No offense. Like I said, I admire you for the courage. 010524 ... TalviFatin Sometimes I feel like I have different personalities branching from my main self. Then I just realize I'm partially an actress and I'm just changing to fit the situation. 011109 ... Aaron to much acid, and not enough reality has made me this way. see through purple, jelly on the tongue, disolve away. mind turns in on me.. voices of my friends take it out on me. i come out of the insulting hole i was in.. open my eyes. i didn't know it at the time but that night i had devoloped schizophrenia. later on.. much down the road.. after trips that had lasted days in time. i heard voices again.. i got help.. being the addict i was it didn't help much.. drugs and a not so stable mentality, take it out on me... later days.. after medication.. therapy.. and more drugs.. an addict being me. they call it psycosis.. or at least calling me psycotic.. no problem... till i trip my way into rehab one day.. state got ahold of me.. silly ex addicts said they were trying to set me free... no.. no.. silly me.. i walked into my forced rehabilitation one day.. tripping after a night of melting and wasting away, piggies winking, faked love, and a lot of insanity, my mind all but shreded paper and a bit of mess, again.. i was sent to a doc.. try to get my mind in place.... once again.. a year down the road.. all alone.. after rinne, after the next one, me alone... lots of speed... a bottle of jack.. a mind to far gone to keep going.. up for days.. broken through a door in everyones mind that should not be opened.. knowing things i should not know.. all put into code.. at last sleep.. once i wake.. the madness had stayed.. still with me.. only not so sharp.. not so much as a thret to my life.. but hanging there in front of me.. moving with me .. tearing me apart.. my frontal lobe is fried. 7 months down the road.. mmm lovely lovely absinthe... trent said it's the perfect drug... it just might be.. but not when mixed with valium and speed.. it's a death for the mind.. still just almost touching the devine.. couldn't talk, shaking like a waking moving earthquake, no control over my jitters, i had had been holding a drink i would have shurly spilt it, rushed to the hospital, the cop popping pills as he drove, in a room, still can't talk, big black man won't let me out, thorazine shot in my ass, still no sanity in site, i just want to leave. if they would have left me at home i would have been fine. made me sign a paper, a release of my freedom to the house of death and sickness that they keep so clean. rushed away to another monument house of the born and dying, whir whir but i can't see the lights.. brought in the back like a shame to the human race.. a mental case.. a ward of the state. up stairs.. in a room, door open.. she hands me a pill.. i won't take anything if i don't know what it is.. somehow i ask her "what is it?" total numb at the sound of my own voice.. she says "atavan" i take it.. she hads me a small plastic cup of water.. take the pill and drink the water, i walk into the room.. i spill the water on my hand. warm to cold in a meatter of two seconds.. i loose all thought.. i think it's a plot against me.. something to lock me away in a place no one can find me.. a jail for thoes with problems.. only in a place that noone knows.. a house for the insane. i run for the door and they shut it as quickly as they can.. i can feel the apsolute look of shock and horror on my face, my escape almost gone the door almost shut, i slip my are through.. so they don't shut it, to hurt me is against their rules, and somehow i knew that.. i just didn't want to be alone, i had been alone to long. they opened the door a little more, just to try to push me back in, first three people, then four, then five.. i think they stopped at five or six, i didn't know i was that strong. at last they gave up the door.. and took me to a room... i had seen this room in movies, a table with arm and leg straps.. i lay down.. they strap me in, as long as i'm not alone.. at least they left the door open.. it's like i'm watching a movie on the wall reminds me of a video game.. a guy walks in.. sits down on the floor.. i slip my hand out of one of the straps, show it to him, all he says is "you should put that back before they ..." and i can't remember the rest. so i put my hand back, and after a little while he leaves.. and they let me out of the room.. tell me to shower and brush my teeth.. i did what they said, then i aksed for a razor, i got given an electric shaver, no way to get a clean shave in there. i was having a nic fit, they gave me gum that tasted like shit. time to kill the pain, they call me for meds.. they give me haldol, benzotrophine, and lorazipam three times a day.. dopped and not in a fun way. when my family came to visit me.. i wouldn't even stay wake.. drooled on the table... and days blending together with a dreamless sleep. five days.. five days of not knowing where i was.. no friends, no one to talk to.. alone and druged.. when i get out.. bac to the doc, fix my head.. yeah.... fix it.. give me drugs.. give me something to fix this.. ohh wait.. arn't drugs what started this... 011109 ... josie the more you separate something the harder it is to put it back together. 020605 ... poetic_onslaught i remember this. derrealization skitzophrenia i think is what they called it. it was brought forth from what i thought to be harmless excitement. i was excited by the nervousness in the pit of my stomach, warm butterfly wings fluttering against my guts. it tickled. i think i messed it up from constantly having this feeling. now i cant even have my stomach touched without it trembling like a terrified puppy. this nervousness was brought forth from having more enemies than friends. the drama excited me so much that it was almost erotic. as a matter of fact, this was my first true love. i was the guy that wouldnt back down and was proud of my gangster role. you know the type....loved by few, hated by most, but respected by all. now that i look back at it though, i imagine that the people that barely knew me must've thought that i had more damaged brain cells than just the ones hurt by drugs. i walked as if i had immobile or rusty joints, because i was too self-conscious. i was so self-conscious that i thought out every body movement before i made it. then i wouldnt agree with my movements as i moved, so i always made awkward body movements. i would walk and realize that my hands were latent at my sides. i would try to sway them and couldnt decide how hard to sway them or if i should sway them in rythem with my feet and i would feel stupid. i was ambivelent to everything. i couldnt even decide on if i wanted good or bad, happines or pain, i even questioned my sexuality, more often than not (but never went to the point of experimenting with it). eventually, i became paranoid. i thought the whole world was against me. my eyes, eyelids, lips, fingers, feet, or other parts of my body would twitch, subtly but vehemently. you could notice when my voiced shaked. but even through my paranoia, i needed this drama and excitement and would hope for me to get mixed up in some sort of violence to unleash the pain i had inside. i was addicted to this violent drug that set me free and i wouldnt let it go, no matter what side effects came with it. since i was paranoid most of the time, i would watch everbody as if they were under my personal microscope. i would study their movements and realize what they meant. i would get in to their minds this way. the human race became my lab mice. mind games became my hobby. i was a natural psycologist. i got so good at it that i knew what they were gonna say next before they said it, knew what body movements they were gonna make before they did. i felt as if they were all my puppets and i was controling them with a thought. this is when shit got very scary. i had already been hearing voices for a couple of years, i was seeing things, having night terrors, i was paranoid, and now i wasnt even part of the world. nothing was real. i would walk around a room that family members were talking in and i felt invisible. they probably just didnt acknowledge me because i was some freaky shit. i would never laugh and when i did it was out of nowhere or at something they thought wasnt that funny. i was in my own world but i hated it. i was disconnected, it was like i was watching a movie. i yearned for pain to feel alive. most of my emotions were dormant so it was hard for me to even feel any compassion. the only emotion i would feel was anger. i would stare at people and feel retarded when i couldnt feel connected to anything. i felt brain damaged, deformed, crippled. i would move my hand and be amazed by it. i just couldnt understand how bodies could be moved. i would stare at my hand and be amazed by the movements i made. nothing made any sense. this was some of the scariest shit if not THE scariest shit ive ever experienced. it was like i was dead but alive. i imagine this is what death would probably feel like if you could be conscious of it. almost something like a ghost. i felt nought. i took my medication and got away from my old life and now im better (not all better of course. its impossible to be exactly the same way you were before after something like that. but im not on thorazine any more and dont have any abnormal stuff wrong with me. i guess im normal, although i really dont believe there's such thing as a "normal life".). but im still not sure if its a good thing that i changed. throughout that whole time my need for that sort of excitement never went away. i still have that need. i can never let go of my first true love. 020605 ... bethany god damn...farmilliar, except i actually experimented and never had a rough time with swinging my arms...but that whole mind games thing and how it's hard to stay away, i feel you, but i never want to feel that stomach pit again. paranoia. a change of scenery and a little help did it for me, and i feel normal but this concrete, although it's better for me just doesn't seem as much fun 020605 ... Photophobe I still don't get it. 020606 ... blown cherry Somehow I don't get the impression it's always fun. self_asphyxiation And people don't always return to "normal". Maybe we'll sit down one day and I can explain a little more of what I know, though I doubt my experiences even touch the surface of human experience. 020606 ... blown cherry And I hope you never get it. I hope neither of us does. 020606 ... Photophobe Burning thats not what I meant - either way. 020606 ... blown cherry so why don't you just ask her what she means, and she might stop blathering it everywhere. 020606 ... Photophobe lightglobe maybe I already did and she wouldn't tell me. 020606 ... blown cherry heh. Obviously a woman who knows some of the many secrets of how_to_make_blakeworld 020606 ... blown cherry I'm not scared. I can't guarantee it's not going to happen, but I am still not afraid. I just wondered though, are you? 020618 ... phil the day the voices read me Webster's definition of this word, was the day that I got scared. 020711 ... amy say NO to neuroses. easy enough, but i still "decompensate". boo to off-chemistry. boo to victimhood. yeah for differing perspective. double yeah for keepin it mild and a healthy goal to bide time with no bullshit. that'll teach me. 020712 ... schizophrenia Mommy its dark in here 021021 ... bizzy i like this place. it isn't too dark. cus i don't like the dark. but it's nice, and it's not scary. I been here before, I like it. 030924 ... love & hate the place i exist, is a constant other reality. Where dreams dont come true, where love does not last, where everything around me is just a dream. Sometimes i think that this is all just what i've created. That when i close my eyes, everything stops, and once they are open again, it all begins and everyone is just here because i imagine them to be. I imagine my friends, i imagine my family, i imagine my relationships. It is all in a dream. This dark reality which i live in eats through me constantly. With my eyes closed or open. Either way my subconcious consumes me. Bringing me further and further into this deep dark whole. I've been to the doctor, but am too scared to tell him what i really feel, how i really think, what i really believe for then, this whole reality will cease to exist. And as shit of a reality as it is, it is the only one i have. That is why i'm invincible. I cannot die, because i wont let myself, overdosing has no effect, sharp blades and glass heal too quickly and rat poison does nothing. In this reality where i live, lines in movies really happen. But dreams still cease to exist and love does not last. My reality has flaws, of that i am aware, but what about your reality? Does your's differ much from mine? But see, i know the answer to that question for i am the one who creates your answer subconciously. It is all just a vicious circle, threatening never to end. Please make it stop. Make it all go away, so i can sleep. That is all i want to do, is sleep for the rest of eternity. 041011 ... Somebody that I used to know The theripist told me i have nothing to worry about. I dont believe her. 041228 ... the nights child some things happen too late 050405 ... Somebody that I used to know Was that even a therapist? 060113 ... plop no, it wasn't, it was a turd that wanted me to draw her a silly picture. 100814 ... hello? Now, maybe it is someone else that needs a therapist, like the person that won't let me go. who are you going to listen to? me or her? 100814 ... goodbye I can't live without my sister sorry about that 100814 ... Groshing.Ooma I’ve spent the day thinking of you and waiting for any word to prove to me that you’re there. Leaving you behind in that dark apartment felt like a betrayal forced on me by the gunpoint of necessity and I regret having given in to the world and stepping away. I’m left with no comfort and riddled with the images of you, begging me to claim you as my own and speaking to me in a language I didn’t understand. I know that you’re trapped in a place which I’m not part of; that speaks to you of treacheries I haven’t committed and hatred I don’t, and can’t, feel. Had I stayed, I could have tried to quell them, to reassure you, to claim you with words and caresses. All I have now is a silence stretched out over the hours of the day extended infinitely in all directions. I tell myself you’re fine, you’re fine. I’ll hear from you tomorrow and it will be like nothing happened and all this worry will have been for nothing. There is no mantra that can save me from that place from which surfaces all the fear; the constant, endless, uncontrollable fear that makes me imagine every horrible thing that could have happened to make you disappear. I love you passionately, completely, profoundly. Please remember me. Need me and I’ll be here waiting. What else can I do? Remember me. 110504 what's it to you? who go blather from