As we say so often, “I’m losing it,” and “I don't know that I can take this any longer.”

I don't recall if I have posted anything here lately or not. I know that I have started notes with the intention of posted here and I think that there are tidbits of sentences that I may have posted here (or bits of phrases that I have meant to post) but I am having great problems with my memory and there's not much there from maybe September through the present.

I’m eating, grooming myself, etc., but my apartment is a mess and I won't allow my caregiver clean up anything but my bathroom and kitchen. My hypersexual mania is gone and my hypergraphia is fleeting. I feel the numb feeling. (No need to explain that, is there?) My audio hallucinations and delusions are soaring. I am having long conversations with my dad and am sometimes living with my father and stepmother and we have three puppies and a cat. I talk to the pets as well. The “reality” of these delusions usually only last for 20-30 seconds but I had one conversation with my dad that was real for almost 30 minutes. It was difficult coming out of that one, because it was bringing me so much pleasure.

I have an appointment with my doc on Monday but I’ve been unable to get in touch with my case manager to schedule a ride.

I’ve been back in therapy for seven months but I don't feel as if it’s helping. I feel like my “team” has been far, far too conservative in drug use. My case manager, I think, is beginning to think that I am no longer to care for myself and that frightens me.

I am beginning all of my sentences with “I”. That is common with the mentally ill, I have noticed. We are so anxious to describe to others exactly what's going on in our head that narcissistic communication becomes the only that we use. And while it's comforting to know that others have similar feelings, it's also… I can't think of the words. Okay, to me it sometimes feels as though I'm angry at others for letting their feelings overlap with mine. I'm also frightened no because I don't have a psychiatric term to describe what I feel. I’m not going to become a psychiatric hypochondriac, piecing together bits of symptoms to make a whole diagnosis. I am afraid of becoming perceived as such – it was depression and anxiety that brought me back to treatment for mental illness but, since that time, I have had “mini-symptoms” of so many other disorders.

We come here looking, first, for empathy, then help and, finally, just as a place where we can allow a kind of cheap confession. We can't (and I have either written or thought this many, many times) expect absolution. If there is forgiveness for mental illness, I guess that we have to forgive ourselves first. Just writing that makes me think of some kind of new age crap, some kind of CBT hogwash.

I am so frustrated that I have been unable to find any help. Everyone thinks that I should go into hospital for a month so that they can rapid-fire new meds, admitting that it can take six weeks or longer for a med to have any effect. You go in the mental ward, see a psychiatrist for 15-20 minutes (if you're fortunate) and spend the rest of the time in bed or participating in childish games to pass the time. Meal and med times are the high times of the day, because you sure as hell don't get a thing from the psych visits.

And if you go in for the long term? You lose your life again. I am too old to begin life over. I have it sweet right now, at 57. I don't have a year to spend inside and then another 12-13 years to construct another life, with a credit score of 892. I didn't know credit scores went that high but when I was negotiating my new AT&T contract, that was my score. And you get great deals with a good credit score.

I’m really anxious just now. I keep calling my case manager but get no return call, message or email.

The horror in this kind of situation is that there's nothing that I can do. I just tried the main office and just got her voicemail again. I think that the horror is multiplied by magnitudes when you're stuck inside your own head, stuck with no other stimuli outside of yourself.

This place is good in that it gives the illusion of talking to someone, even talking to a crowd.

My uncle, my last uncle, is going to be taken off of life support sometime today. My aunt, his sister, is supposed to let me know when it's over. His daughter, my cousin, has medical PoA and she said it's a lengthy progress. His son is a twit. He is three months older than me, 200 pounds heavier and looks as if he’s in his early 30’s. He is bright in ways that I am not and was the first cousin to hit a $100,000 salary. While his father is dying, he has spent the morning on Facebook reposting glib memes.

I need help but it seems that no matter how loud I scream no one can hear me.