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Just as I think I'm on the path to getting well, it smacks me back in the face. It’s as if something comes from somewhere else. Something or someone else is putting thoughts into my head. Something or someone else is telling me how to act or react. I’m just the puppet. Of an unseen puppeteer.
For someone to tell me to get control of my thoughts is just laughable. If I could, I would. But I can’t, so I don’t. It’s as simple as that. My hands are sweaty. My thoughts collide into each other. So many thoughts, visions, images that I end up thinking about nothing at all. Someone else must have put all those thoughts into my head, those were not of my own creation.
The paranoia creeps in, reminding me that I'm still sick. I'm not well yet and I wonder if I will ever be well. I want it all to be over. I need something to believe in. I need to believe I did the right thing and that my friends are still my friends. This all consuming, blinding paranoia is eating me alive.
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.age: 34 female .bipolar I .psychosis .panic/anxiety disorder
Seroquel XR 100mg
Labetalol for high blood pressure
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