I came home from school last December in a psychotic state (no one seems to be able to pinpoint why; there seem to be so many factors but at first they were thinking it was just excessive pot intake.) My memory of that time is relatively clear and among the delusions I was entertaining were that I was in purgatory, that I had done something evil and the world was now paying for my sin, that machines were somehow in control of our destiny, that I was a prophet, that I had cast a black magic spell, and a lot of other ones that don't really make sense when you stack them together. My parents didn't know quite what to do and the psychiatrist didn't seem to know what was going on either so I was given some clonazepam (which I thought was funny because I had abused it in the past); 1 in the morning and one at night. For a month and a few weeks I seemed to be getting better but I guess I was just suppressing the delusions. It was sometime during this period that I started abusing the clonazepam. I was chronically depressed about my condition and it made me feel normal. Then on a night when I was feeling some instinct of self-preservation I flushed it all down the toilet. A few nights later I was hit with a flash of panic as though my body was shutting down and I would die, it felt so intense and so real. Since then my memory has been ****ed (not that it was good before that) and I haven't been able to complete what little schoolwork I have. What little energy I have has been devoted to trying not to give my parents a heart attack (they are both in their 60s and have had to deal on top of this with the simultaneous death of two close friends and putting my grandmother in assisted living for alzheimer's) but I'm not doing that very well either. I feel like every thought I have or every muscle I move is under the microscope of "is this okay, is this how I would normally do this" or else "is this going to have this effect on this person?"

Reading some of you guys' posts it seems to me like you all at least have the comfort of giving a name to your condition. I'm sure it doesn't seem easy at all but I don't even know what the **** is happening to me! Including the final week of school in which I was psychotic, since this began I have experienced hallucinations, anxiety, depression, and my condition only seems to be able to explain itself in terms of itself. I would kill to just have a diagnosis. Typing in this box has made me feel normal (or maybe just distracted) for a little bit, but every-time I am left alone I just get some manifestation of my condition and I don't know how much longer I can take this.