Lukas Allen
This was written back when I was still new to having schizophrenia.
My heart beats like a drum. My skin feels tight. What is it? Am I approaching my end looking for a beginning? I feel paranoid, manic, have shortness of breath.
All of these are side effects of a medication I am taking, an antidepressant. These side effects are accentuated when drinking alcohol, which I relapsed on yesterday. I have to wonder if the pluses are worth the negatives. Perhaps I am simply getting happier, more comfortable and at ease, and am getting the desired effect? Perhaps I am living life more fully, more openly than when I did before?
The drumming in my chest is distracting.
I wrestle with a monster, a monster named paranoia. It is a subtle beast, playing on my fears and doubts. My insecurities and my own self perceived flaws. Are they out to get me? Are you out to get me? To destroy me and my life completely and utterly, as soon as I let my guard down? Despite appearances, I am improving against it, as now I have the ability to wrestle it, rather than let it control and dominate my life. There was no fight before, it pressed down on me like a heavy fog, no matter what I did to try to see the rays of hope and goodness. At least now I have a fighting chance.
The mania is the worst, I believe. You feel so terribly happy, but not in a good way. You feel like your dreams have come true, despite doing nothing to achieve them. You feel so terribly and utterly alone, when you are so manic.
And when I feel these feelings, I just lay on the bed, letting my blood pulse through my body, at my overworking heart.
I believe I don’t always do the right thing when trying to get better. I blatantly hinder myself and take risks. Drinking is a risk I should never take, I drink too much coffee, increasing my paranoia at times, I smoke tobacco, even though the antidepressant is supposed to be for smoking cessation. I am not always the best person to be in charge of my health.
But perhaps the joy of it is worth it? The gradual fading of the fog? The ability, the wish, to live life to the fullest again? I have been feeling heavy of late, heavy in feelings. I wish to let those feelings fly away, or let them drop to the earth and let me fly instead. So I’ve been writing.
Tapping to the rhythm, bump bump bump, and the beating of the heart keeps going, delivering the drug throughout my system.
Perhaps the feeling is synthetic, or perhaps I’ve discovered something new. I’ll figure it out eventually.
Thump thump, like a knocking on my door.
drugsjailandschizophrenia 