Crazy Crazy Crazy

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Ever wonder what it’s like to be nuts? Well, hopefully I can get some other varieties in here to describe their afflictions and then you won’t need to wonder so much any more. Personally I’d be interested to hear from a bipolar or a full on psychopath–just to see if I could get a first hand account of what they think about/like during an episode.

I’ll chum the water first with my variety of paranoid schizophrenia. My symptoms are normally pretty benign and I can usually get through the day by simply ignoring them. Most of the time all I have are auditory hallucinations. Odd sounds like cracking knuckles, wind, motors–all as background noise I would describe as “deluxe tinnitus.” About twice a week I get visual hallucinations that stay with me pretty much all day. The most common of these is an image of a female. Sometimes still, like a photograh, sometimes beckoning to me, but always looking at me. If I were to describe it I would say to imagine someone actually being there in front of you, except they are about 90% transparent and do not respond to obstacles. It’s very much like when your TV has a ghost image due to poor reception or maybe another signal bleeding in to your main program. If I pull my eyes away from the woman and fix on something in a different location she gradually floats back into the same position in my field of vision. Sometimes though, the vision is different: A real person’s face will form a somewhat less transparent “ghost” which invariably turns into an evil and menacing monstosity. Should that person put a hand near my face during these times the hand will have a ghost as well which looks a hell of a lot like a shrivelled claw of an ancient hand. These are pretty scary because I’m usually delusional as well when I’m getting these types of images. The worst visual is one I haven’t seen in about 20 years, and it happens all by itself, comes & goes as it pleases and followed none of the patterns my current ones are courteous enough to adhere to. I don’t care if it never comes back. It’s a monster. For perspective, I would categorize the majority of my visualizations as “visual tinnitus.” Annoying sometimes, but I’ve lived with them for so long I just unconsciously work around them.

The paranoia is part of my delusional set. I’ve never been worried about aliens or the government (although lately I find it difficult to have an opinion about the government that I don’t want to dismiss as delusion). It’s almost exclusively limited to a conviction that everyone I’m associated with is in more or less non-malevolent cahoots with one another and that I’m excluded from understanding the motive behind any such organization. Alternatively, I might get the idea that I’m being lied to or cheated on, which is one reason my wife’s recent antics completely blew my mind. It was so problematic because it totaly blurred what I though was my beseline for normality. See, no one can get far in life if they truly believe their paranoid delusions so I, and presumably other folks, measure my feelings against something I consider a constant “known.”

Overall I don’t think many people of my aquaintance know anything is wrong with me apart from the fact that I’m pretty moody, easily distracted, and can think about several complex issues at once. This is a coping mechanism by the way. When the delusions become bothersome I shift my mental focus to something else, and then to something else, and then to something else yet. I don’t like to talk about it because I view my symptoms with the same self-loathing and embarassment as a bed-wetter might. Sure, it’s all illness and so none of this is my fault, but the label and people’s understanding of what exactly it is that’s wrong with me is so far removed from the truth… I can joke and talk about it here because I’ll probably never meet any of you in real life. This is a safe place.

My little posting faux pas last November (the suicide note) was a direct result of too much stress, a peak in intensity of audio and visual hallucinations that had been wearing on me for a number of weeks, and some of the worst delusional & depression activity I’ve ever had. Basically I melted down. So anyways, thanks for reading this trite and self-indulgent drivel. And if nothing else, please remember: for every one person sick, scared or curious enough to be diagnosed with schizophrenia, there are probably dozens of others who “just deal with it” and go unknown and untreated. Multiple Personality Disorder is completely unrelated, and not all of us talk to rocks and wear foil hats.

2

This past thread may also be of some interest

What’s it like being seriously nuts?

3

Wow, Inigo. Thanks for describing your stuff with such honesty and clarity. I found your story incredibly interesting. I have one question, and it may seem uneducated, and that’s because it is. What’s the difference between someone like you and someone who talks to rocks and lives on the street or in an institution? Is it luck, meds, self-awareness, degree of the condition? Thanks in advance.

Me, I’m your average major depressive with PTSD and long time drug and alcohol abuse in the mix. I control my depression with lots of meds, my PTSD with lots of therapy, and the other stuff with AA. I’m happy to answer any questions, but my shit is pretty minor league in comparison.

My father in law suffered mightily with bipolar issues most of his adult life. At one point, in the fifties, he ran the risk of being kept in the funny farm indefinitely unless he could get a sponsor. No one in his family would do it. His best bud in the joint asked his own dad to sponsor him, or who knows how long he would have stayed.

Lithium had little effect for him. It wasn’t until the mid-80s and the combo of lithium and tegratol that his symptoms became controllable. By that time, he had done himself and his family irreparable harm. Poor old dude.

4

I’m going to guess it’s a combination of luck, that the affliction isn’t more intense more of the time; and self-awareness. The latter because when I am aware that what I’m experiencing isn’t “real” it gives me firmer conviction to ignore it, and it is also a signal for me to watch my stress level. At some point rocks & trees offer the most intelligent source of advice available so I wouldn’t rule out talking to them about certain things, but should they offer any replies I would regard these with some suspicion. I’m avoiding the meds because I’d rather feel “odd” than feel nothing at all. I keep some valium on hand as a kind of “fire extinguisher” should symptoms & circumstances converge on me again.

5

Very interesting, Inigo. I just suffer from generalized anxiety disorder. Pretty garden variety, that.

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Thanks for the link, by the way. I had forgotten about this thread.

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I was diagnosed with Dysthymia after a suicide attempt around Easter, 1990. I also have bouts of Major Depression about every 4½ years, starting with my first suicide attempt in '86 or '87. I wrote a note, put a rope around my neck, then realized our ceilings are too low. I spent two weeks of the summer of '94 in a psych ward. My stay in the hospital was my first time on meds; they put me on Prozac for the duration of my stay and for a month or two afterwards. I haven’t needed any since then.

I find I always need to keep my brain occupied with something or else I get very bored. Whenever I can’t find anything better to do, I’ll simply fall asleep. That’s why I’m at the SDMB, it keeps me from getting too bored at work.

8

I have social anxiety disorder, which is quite common.

I hate parties: I am afraid that I am in someone’s way, breaking into someone’s conversation, boring someone, or not cool enough for the other people. I stand in a corner and try not to take up space. Solution: two glasses of wine, and I begin to feel much better.

I have a classic sympathetic response to criticism: I flush, get sweaty and shaky, and my heart pounds. Any criticism confirms that I am a fraud, a charlatan, just pretending that I know things.

In restaurants, I have to sit with my back to the wall. I have to be able to see everyone who can see me. Often, I feel that the server is persecuting me. If asked a question (would you like some more water?) I will stonily stare into my food, and wait for my date to answer the question for me. If left alone at the table while my date is in the restroom etc., I am afraid that the server might bother me. I am very angry.

My biggest problem is being in crowded places. City streets and stores are the most common situations. It feels like everyone is staring, listening, snickering, rolling eyes, jostling me, following me, or trying to steal my purse. The store’s employees systematically confront me at every turn. At the very worst, I stop seeing the world around me. I might catch a person’s eye, or acutely feel the presence of someone behind me, but I am basically so overwhelmed with fear and resentment that I stop processing my environment. If I am alone and this happens, I leave the store and head for the closest private place. If I am with someone when this happens, the someone becomes my worst enemy–a loathsome anchor, stopping me from leaving the dangerous situation, and even worse trying to talk to me and interact with me, which can only attract more negative attention.

I do not mind sitting in a lecture or discussion group where no one notices me. I do not mind being in a position of authority–giving talks and teaching is not a problem (unless someone starts to criticize). I do not mind interacting with people one-on-one, especially if I am on my own turf.

I have not sought treatment for my problems; I really don’t think that it is bad enough to warrant the therapy trap.

9

A couple years ago, there was a Pit thread: “What’s Next, Tri-Polar?” which started off pretty snarky, but then turned into a pretty interesting and ignorance-fighting discussion.

In that thread, I described what a standard hypomanic-to-mixed episode was like for me.

My bipolar episodes are primarily controlled using Cognitive Behaviour Therapy, but if I ever find myself having substantial difficulties again, I will be switching over to a medication regimen of mood stabilizers – won’t have much of a choice, actually.

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Wow Eats_Crayons! Your description of a hypomanic-to-mixed episode was really interesting and gave me more of a clue as to what it must be like to have those kinds of feelings racing around your head.

Last year my brother’s wife was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after going through a pretty scary meltdown. I stayed with them for a short time and tried to provide emotional and practical support, as well as attempting to give my brother a helping hand in navigating the public mental health system in Australia. The lack of funding allocated to mental health services dealing with acute need was probably the scariest discovery of all :frowning:

Although I did the best I could, I found it really hard to know what to do a lot of the time as my sister-in-law would go from frenzied periods of manic cleaning and talking EXACTLY as you described, and the next hour be in bed, refusing to talk to anyone, look at anyone etc.

Thanks for writing so frankly - it really helped me understand things a bit more.

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Eats_Crayons, I also appreciate your response. My mother was diagnosed as being bipolar several years ago, and while I understand what her particular set of symptoms is (which are really much more on the depressed side), it’s interesting to hear it all explained so succinctly.

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I suffer from panic disorder brought on by emetophobia. For anyone who doesn’t know what that is, it’s the fear of vomiting, seeing others vomit, and/or pretty much anything vomit-related. I’ve come a long way with it, but I still can’t actually be in the same room as a person who is throwing up. I’ve got it easy though. There are some people who can’t even say the words vomit, puke, etc!
For awhile, the phobia caused me to hide in my house whenever I could. Even driving a few blocks was an ordeal. Eventually, I got sick of that, and started making myself go places. It worked. I can finally go out! I still get a little nuts when I feel queasy, but it’s okay, because I’m finally in charge of my own issues.

My other problem is harder to shake. The best I can do is keep it inside, and not discuss it. I was diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder several years ago. At first, I thought that was ridiculous, but then after some serious thinking and research, I realized that it is most definitely true. Flat out, I feel that I am better than other people. Now, I know in my heart that this is not true. I’m just a regular person, but there is always a voice telling me that I’m special: more attractive, more intelligent, funnier, more talented, etc. I’ve learned to keep those feelings and thoughts to myself, but it’s hard to shake them sometimes. I’ll start thinking that I’m a different kind of person, and I don’t belong with the rest of the “normal” population. It’s hard to explain, but it’s definitely a step above plain-old vanity. :frowning:

13

Not t diminish your problem but if I had to hear one voice, this is what I’d want it to be saying.

Inigo Montoya , thanks for posting this. It’s just a sort of reminder that other people (well, everybody) in the world are fallible in some way or another. I appreciate when people can “out” themselves like that, even if it’s just on here because most of the time I’m just seeing what people want me to see (even on here).

Sattua ,
At one time or another I’ve experienced those very same things, except for the extreme sense of paranoia. I’ve pretty muched worked my way through all of it but parties were hard for a long time and sometimes I still avoid them if I have to go alone.
I too would have to leave a store while I was shopping. I’d get this feeling like I stand out among everyone else and I’d have to leave right away.

I awlways recognized that it was me though, and not the rest of the world. It does remind me of one time when I was drinking and began to accuse the people around me of conspiring against me. The alchohol had everything to do with it but it strikes me as a sub-surface issue that can come out given the right circumstances.

I haven’t had much of a problem lately though.

One thing that I never seem to get past is when I leave a store without purchasing anything. I feel especially self conscious of my movements as I exit the store!

14

I’m a “Md” bipolar (big manic, little depression) as opposed to “mD” (little manic big depression). I tend to get the hypomania/mania and mixed but rarely the depressive cycles and not often do I get full-blown manic. I tend to crash into that mixed phase (which suuuuuuucks) before hitting the major depression or all-out mania.

And I’ve only been delusional once while in a very bad mixed state. (A streetlight burnt out and I knew it was because the darkness of my mood was emanating and radiating blackness from me and snuffing out the light. Yeeaaah, right. Uh-huh. Oooooookay, then.)

I can’t describe a “standard” depressive cycle, I’m afraid because I’ve never really suffered through the bone-crushing, feels-like-you’re-breathing-cool-tar depression that a lot of bipolar people get. My depressive cycles manifest more as a complete shut down of emotions like I’m Spock. So I tend to be calm, reasonable, and rational.

One of the pesky aspects of that particular chemcial imbalance is that patients aren’t consistent – no two patients are alike. Some people go up, down, up, down, others just go up, up, up, UP UP UP, UPUPUPUP, and others suffer primarily the depressive cycles, still others will get REALLY manic then crash to an abysmal depression. Or, like me, they’ll bounce off the walls and then get “mixed” and mixed really, really sucks. So although biploar symptoms are the same, there is a pretty wide range of patterns. It’s not a predictable tide.

There can also be variation in any given individual. So although for a good 12 years I’ve never had a significant depressive cycle – surprise! – I may have one next year! Never can tell.

Glad the description was helpful though. It’s extremely hard to tell people in a way that they can “get”. Hypomania is not “happy” and “hyper” there a lot more to it (and it can be distressing). Same with clinical depression. It is not “the blues” or a standard level of “sad”. It’s an amplified state that is more than what the typical person experiences.

15

Inigo Montoya Why don’t you seek medical help? You do realize that you have a problem, you acknowledge it, then why don’t you want to do something about it so that it goes away. Don’t you want to feel better? Do you have something against going for therapy or taking meds?

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I’ve never really done this, so it’s a step in a new direction.

Back in the seventies, I was married, and the marriage was bad enough that to this day, there is still a court action pending. (No more about that but consider the stress from it.) I was commuting 110 miles a day on back roads, working at least 10 hours of overtime, and attending school nights for 8 to 12 credits. I also used marijuana fairly constantly, and speed occasionally.

I was a mailman, and most of my workday involved walking my route, mostly alone, and mostly only using wrote memory to accomplish highly repetitive tasks. It gave me a lot of time to think. My thinking got into certain ruts, at first not serious, and not out of the ordinary. “that son of a b, he won’t ever let me change this route.” “no one is ever going to listen to my opinion” “I am trying to be more involved, and more responsive to her.” “I don’t want to talk about that any more, we always talk about it.”

A huge percentage of my day required little or no conscious thinking, and the pattern of internal patter got very strong. The eventual definition of reality became tiny steps in my internal dialogue with others, and eventually with myself. The real world had progressively less to do with how I felt, and what I wanted to do than the internal view of the world, and what I thought would change it. It was seductive, because I really couldn’t change much about the real facts, because I didn’t recognize that my own choices were being deferred by me to attempt to please others.

Still not crazy, though. Just depressed and angry. But the pattern was set, and had been set voluntarily. The drugs certainly played a part.

Three years later, I was homeless, jobless, and wandering the streets, working on a delusion of knives cutting me. Tactile delusions of extraordinary realism, consciously chosen and designed, as an attempt at suicide. Ever hear of Stigmata? Let’s try to take that to the limit, hmm? Work on it hard enough and I might be able to just slit my own throat by force of will. By the time I realized that I couldn’t stop doing it, I really didn’t want to stop.

I have no idea what I smelled like, looked like, or acted like to others. That wasn’t even in my reality. I don’t remember much except that hookers would bring me McDonalds food in return for advice on social services, and legal matters, banking, or other trivia. (very bizarre that I could still do that, and that they could not find a better source of help than an obvious train wreck like me.) They were nice to me, though. There were several challenges of a threatening nature during that time. My answers were always enough to change peoples mind, and send them away. I barely remember them.

Not having any answers for the “cop questions” was the part that got me off the street. “What are you doing? Where are you going? Do you have any identification?” They seemed like profound philosophical questions, like I was being arrested by Emmanuel Kant. I could not think of an answer to them. That got me put in the Psych hospital. In the modern world, I would have just been allowed to die.

I got better.

Tris

“We better get back, cause it’ll be dark soon, and they mostly come at night, mostly.” ~ Newt, Aliens ~

17

I have what may be described as a very minimal case of bipolar, just diagnosed two months ago at the age of 30. I have never had a psychotic episode, but I definitely have suffered hypomanic and manic episodes my whole life. I also have held the delusion that I am better than everyone else. I still kind of do, to be honest. I used and abused drugs for most of my life in an effort to self-medicate. I was extremely promiscuous as a teenager and throughout college and even after college for a while. Luckily I seem to have gotten that part of my life under control. I now take mood stabilizers and antidepressants. The reason I finally got diagnosed was because I was suffering from extreme punch-people-and-destroy-shit anger all the time, and I decided to see a therapist about it. She diagnosed depression, and sent me to a meds doctor who recognized the bipolar symptoms. I feel a sense of relief that I don’t have to suffer through my anger any more. The drugs don’t make me numb, they help me control myself. I’m still struggling with kicking the drugs I’ve used for most of my life but I am using less now than I have since I started at the age of 14. I consider myself very lucky to have made it this far without a complete breakdown.

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After I had my fist child 5 years ago, I was having the scariest thoughts. I wouldn’t call it hallucinations, just thoughts so vivid I could see them like looking at a snapshot. Pictures of my darling daughter being sliced in half in a car accident and her innards spilling out. Pictures of my then husband with his head blown off and brains spilled down his shirt. I couldn’t get out of bed and walk to the bathroom ten steps away without having my my husband walk with me because I knew there was someone in the bathroom with a knife waiting to hack me to pieces. I couldn’t go out to the living room because I knew Satan was out there just waiting to grab me and drag me down to hell. I couldn’t drive my car because I knew that a semi filled with logs would have a chain snap and I would be crushed flat as a pancake. I thought I just had a vivid imagination and my husband didn’t really care enough to even form an opinion, until one day we were driving behind a truck filled with rebar and I turned to my husband and said, "Damn, it will suck when a piece of rebar comes hurtling off that truck, and impales my face, pinning me to my seat. I’ll be bleeding to death and I’ll want to turn my head to tell you and babykat goodbye, and I won’t be able to and I’ll die without ever seeing you again. " He told me I’m psycho and finally let me go to the doc. I was diagnosed with post partum/anxiety, and I’ve been on meds ever since. Had to go off my Effexor cold turkey two weeks ago because I got divorced and I’m off my insurance and can’t afford the meds every month. Whew, withdrawals are fun, but luckily, although the scary images are coming back, so far it’s nothing I can’t talk myself out of. Man, mental illness sucks!! :frowning: :mad:

19

I’ve received a decent and diverse collection of psychiatric diagnoses and, as most regular readers in here know, I have pretty much zero respect for the diagnostic acument of the profession, or for the validity of their diagnostic categories. I also don’t do psych drugs or have anything to do with the shrinky folks.

Mostly, by accepting that I have a Difference, whatever the heck it may consist of, that plus just age and experience have reduced my tendency to get upset about things and when I am not upset I don’t tend to upset others. I also do a lot of “diplomacy”, what pot smokers call “maintaining” and gay folks call “passing”, expressing myself in ways that are tailored to come across as coherent rational and so on.

But that doesn’t answer your question…

What it’s like: well, I’m constantly in situations where something happens that requires or evokes a response from people, e.g. a decision, and I watch as some large plurality of other folks in that environment go off and react in some incomprehensible way — not just not as I would react or am reacting, but where I can’t believe more than one person could be spontaneously coming up with the same nonsensical thing. My gut says they spoke about it or about something that somehow gets tied in with this, something I wasn’t there for. OK, you want to know what it feels like, it’s like they’re pulling off a hostile practical joke on me, I mean, they’ve come up with this impossibly nonsensical response and chose to act this way in concert, and they’re acting as if their behavior needs and requires no justification or explanation despite the fact that it makes no sense, i.e., they’re acting as if they have no consciousness of how weird it is. It’s creepy. Then, layered on top of that is the “voice of experience” that informs me that I’m Different, and that if I shared their mindset this response would not be nonsensical, and that the hostility is imagined (although if I’m vocal about my alternative view and the extent to which theirs seems weird to me, genuine hostility may result).

I do fine day to day, and far from most people thinking I’m batshit crazy or wondering if I need to be locked up, it’s more often the case that when I’m “out” about being a schiz or an activist against psychiatric forced treatment/incarceration etc., people say “Oh, I can’t believe you’re like that, you aren’t one of the real psychotics/schizophrenics/etc.”. But I’m also always sort of outside looking in and now and then I get his with waves of excruciating loneliness. I can participate in a social environment — this very board, for example —and see how some of the regular folks here become beloved (or behated) and personally known within the community, that folks have a sense of them as intriguing personalities and people of forceful opinions, I’m always marginal. I think I leave a funny “taste” in people’s heads, not quite like they strongly disklike me but people don’t often warm up to me, and no matter what group it might be or how long I’ve been in it, it’s always like I’m a newbie who doesn’t know anyone yet. That’s probably the worst of it.

There are things that I really want to do in my life, social-political change stuff. I have great visions and I think I have great courage and I feel a sense of responsibility and I want to participate, perhaps lead. But I perpetually feel unplugged, a spectator with no ability to affect my social environment, unable for the most part to even be a follower among followers and fit in and integrate my skills and energies. That’s at least second worst, maybe a tie for worst.

I have some concerns and doubts about doing prolonged one-on-one relationships. I’m not sure that’s much more true for me than for most folks, though, and I actually do OK at least for what I call “5-year stands” :slight_smile: My current active rel is approaching an unprecedented 8 years, in fact.

I don’t have visuals and rarely have auditories (when I do, I’m being cussed out angrily for some kind of shortcoming, usually for how I am unfriendly to people or hurt people, seems like a male voice, may be my own?). I should mention that on the occasions when I’ve dropped acid, I don’t get visuals or auditories then either, just vividly strong (and nonverbal) concepts and notions and explanatory models of things, that seems to be how my mind does abstract instead of as pix and movies and sounds and whatnot - ??

20

I don’t want to hijack this fascinating thread, but what is being done to control this? And how did you find it (if it did at all) adversely affecting your life?
I’m starting to suspect that my wife is suffering from narcissism, and it’s changing our lives - and not for the better.