No you are not paranoid. I’m stalking you!
Actually it’s way more boring. I’m a night owl (don’t sleep easily…I just hang round here till I feel sleepy) but I love your posts, so watch out I’m right behind you. 
Oh yeah, that no life thing…ummmmmmm well it is 2:30 am!
Sorry for the hijack Astro.
One time, 2 or 3 years ago, I was taking a shower and I looked down at my hands and all my skin had worn away except for a very light layer that showed the beautiful, convulted spiderweb of my veins. My brain told me that all my skin was being washed away and that if I didn’t get out of the shower Right Now, then my body would fall to pieces. I closed my eyes, argued against that part and when I opened my eyes again, my hands were fine.
Luckily, I have not seen anything of that sort since.
Sorry for the hijack but when I was a little kid, I could never figure out what the hell that noise was. I thought they were running pile drivers on my street or something every night after I went to bed. It really freaked me out.
I suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and I usually compare it to being chased by monsters, or demons. There’s this fear, or worry that’s hounding me, clouding my thinking, and no matter how silly it is, even if I KNOW it’s totally ridiculous, it doesn’t make it go away.
Nothing does. At my worst point, I was lying on the floor of a moving car, just howling like a banshee, it was so bad. I just wanted it to stop.
And when people tell me that it’s something I’ve made up, that psychology is bull, that I just need to change my way of thinking, my diet, my hairdo, get right with JAYZUS, etc, it makes me so mad I can hardly see straight. Because it’s so freaking IGNORANT, and even though some of them mean well, it pisses me off. The stigma against mental illness is so pervasive in our culture and people don’t want to change their beliefs about it. They want to blame the victim, or say that psychiatric meds make people “zombies”, which is so not true.
If it weren’t for those meds and that therapy, I wouldn’t be here today. I’d be lying in the ground, rotting away.
I was diagnosed as being depressed as a teenager, then re-diagnosed as having anxiety/panic disorder. Truthfully, I don’t feel that I fit either one of those molds. I take 20mg of prozac every day, and it helps, but not as much as the 40mg I used to take. Anyway, without my medication, I am unpredictable, cruel, hurtful and violent. If someone’s cough irritates me, I’ll gladly tell them to shut up. Without medication, I hate all authority figures and rules. I’ve been in physical fights and verbal fights. I have no regard for my life or the lives of others and have been known to drive recklessly and take enough drugs to kill a horse.
With meds, I’m quiet, caring, empathetic and thoughtful. I don’t want to hurt people mentally or physically, and I take great care to drive like a civilized person. Sometimes with meds, my inner self will flare up and impulses become very strong. My meds give me a choice in my behavior, and I thank god for that.
I’m like 2 people. One of me is mean, scary and dangerous; the other me is kind and caring. It’s like there’s a line down the center of me that can’t merge into one person. There’s just me medicated and me unmedicated. 
Hereis a thread where Dopers shared stories on depression, perfectionism and how/why they got professional help for it, in the end.
I got this kind of thing too. Usually at night when I was trying to sleep, or after I woke up if I didn’t get out of bed right away. It would usually happen several times every week. I don’t remember having it happen again after I started taking medication for the depression.
I also have generalized anxiety and social anxiety. Living with the generalized anxiety was like living my whole life while the higher-ups at work were in a long meeting about who they were going to fire, or like waiting to hear back from the doctor about whether the lump is cancerous or not. All this when there was no reason whatsoever to worry that I was about to be fired or that anything was wrong with me. When I was in school, I was always scared to get my report cards, because I was sure I was screwing up in some class or other and didn’t know it.
The social anxiety mostly manifested as a fear of criticism- anyone looking at me funny is doing it because I’m doing something weird or wrong, if someone criticizes me that means they hate me and think I’m totally incompetent at everything. (of course, being depressed, I did think I was totally incompetent at everything)
Having depression sucks.
Despite having spent 12 years at University getting Science and Law degrees, I’m too sick to work and live on a government disability pension. This in turn makes me ashamed of myself, and I feel worse.
Most of the last 2 years I don’t remember because I was given electro-convulsive therapy (ECT). Here are some highlights though:
I’ve been in and out of hospital about 6 times in the last year. One stay lasted 2 months.
In that 2 months, the medication made me put on 20kg.
Before that, my husband of 5 years kicked me out of the house and demanded a divorce because he didn’t like me lying in bed all day. My heart is broken - I thought he was the love of my life.
My friends have dumped me, or at least complained how hard it is to support me because I never get any better.
I haven’t been able to look after my daughter all year -she lives at boarding school even though she’s only 11.
Last year I lost my first and only job after 3 months because I couldn’t concentrate. I doubt I will ever be able to work. After 12 years at University.
When I discharged myself from hospital, they sent the police to braing me back. Because I resisted, I’m on bail for assault and had to go to jail overnight. I may still get a prison sentence as I’m awaiting trial.
I’ve attempted suicide.
In answer to the OP, bad depression is a nightmare. You wish you were dead. You hate yourself. You have no hope for the future. You can’t eat or sleep. You can’t concentrate - even to the point of not understanding what people are saying becuase your brain can’t take in whole sentences.
You feel like you’ve been stolen from yourself.
Am I the only truly batshit person on SD? Everyone else seems to have depression, anxiety and OCD. Traumatic disorders one and all (I suffer from depression & anxiety but am using drugs and psycotherapy to get past them), but damn. Someone has got to be nuttier than I am. Maybe if that person exists we can start a band together.
I wish you would say which musician you thought was King Arthur.
This is me too. These uncontrolled thoughts are a part of OCD, which I have. Violent images are not uncommon. Mine started when I was a teen and I used to suddenly see flashes of myself grabbing a butcher knife and stabbing myself in the stomach with it. I never told anyone because it’s crazy, right? Well, no it isn’t actually. And it has nothing to do with what you want, or intend to do. Ever. I’ve come to think of it as a sort of neural broadcasting glitch, sort of like when our tv used to pick up C.B. signals from truckers on the highway when I was a kid. I ignore it anymore, no bother.
I also spent a good chunk of my life hiding in my own house, terrified to go out because there were other people out there. What I thought was agoraphobia later was diagnosed as social anxiety disorder. It really needs a scarier name than that because it sucks mightily and divides you from humanity mostly. Very lonely too.
I could go on and on but I’m running short on time so I’ll just say this.
The idea of medications, therapy, other people knowing something was wrong with me, all that stuff scared me a lot. I was afraid medications would change me and I was afraid they wouldn’t. I couldn’t see anything that a therapist could tell me that would help. But that was part of it, I couldn’t see. And eventually I was more scared of the way I was feeling than anything else so I took a chance and went to the professionals. And that action has kept me from being a prisoner of my fears forever.
It won’t turn your life into something perfect but it can help a hell of a lot.
LMAO. nope, I don’t really want that to happen in the off chance someone associated with the band sees it and takes out a public restraining order. Its embarassing enough talking about this on a largely anonymous message board.
Well, I have been told what I have are panic attacks but they seem different from other people’s.
I get the light headedness, sweaty, sped up heartbeat, etc. But here is where it gets weird. I see like almost a different world when these are happening. It feels like deja vu to a dream or some such thing. But I have never had dreams with these people or situations that I see. It is hard to explain.
And the reason they scare me so bad is that I am afraid one day I’ll never pop out of it. It makes me feels crazy when I know I am not.
Sorry this is so confusing. I can’t explain them well. At one point a few months ago I had close to 20 of these in one day. Scary!
But see the real problem is that even if I were somehow able to get over the anxiety my life would not change in any appreciable way since I don’t really have any connections with other people in real life. Agoraphobia leaves you with a pretty tiny social network. Maybe I could go outside without freaking but that doesn’t mean there’d be anything for me there. I’m not really sure where I’m going with this actually. I think I need to gather my thoughts awhile before I come back to this thread.
WC: maybe some people are too hesitant (or embarrassed) to post about certain things. Even on a semi-anonymous message board.
Well, since I spent a good chunk of my life as a phobic, my social network is only my immediate family. But while I don’t have anyone I’d call a real friend I do have many more acquaintances than I used to and have done things I’d never thought of before.
I hope I’m not coming across as pushy. I just wanted to put this out there for consideration is all.
dwyr, I can relate to that. For me, I’ll have flashes like, hurting someone I care about, or hurting one of my cats-which REALLY disturbs the shit out of me.
I KNOW it’s not what I’d do, and I KNOW it’s OCD…but it’s still very upsetting.
My 16-yr old son recently asked if he could go see the family psychiatrist. At first they diagnosed him as bipolar. I took a DEEP breath because my sister has been so crippled with bipolar. After two or three visits they say he suffers from depression instead.
Funny, I’m a lot more comfortable with that. And why is that? Because I too suffer from depression. Silly isn’t it, it’s more palatable because I know it. The other day he led off with a line (such as my Dad, who also suffers from depression) would say " such a nice day to … GO TO SLEEP AND NEVER WAKE UP". With a grin, saying that no, today wasn’t the day … But I turned around with a wink and said “Oh no! If I can’t go you can’t go either !!”.
We are fortuate that our illness isn’t as strong as others’, that we can keep some cognizance of what we’re about so that we dont’ go off the deep end.
But to answer the OP, "what’s it like being seriously nuts "?
well, I’m up too late and babbling as usual.
I just want to say that I really deeply appreciate everyone that has written in this thread. I know it is hard for you to share your experiences. I really hope all of you eventually find true peace and peace of mind in your life. Don’t let anyone tell you it’s “just in your head” or “just a matter of willpower.” Anyone out there that may be reading and finds themselves knowing these symptoms and problems personally should not be scared, embarrassed or shamed to seek help.
I thank everyone again and good health to you all.
I’m, what? Moderately nuts, maybe? There are voices in my head, they hate me and I hate them back, but I know they’re not real. Same for when I imagine stuff. For a while I was convinced that there was this nest of stringy red worms in the back of my brain, and they were looped down and around my spinal cord. I knew they couldn’t actually be real, but I could feel them inside me.
A few months ago I dropped out of university, and basically didn’t leave the flat for about three weeks. Didn’t turn my phone on, didn’t talk to my friends. Kept trying to work up the courage to kill myself, but only making shallow cuts and bleeding a lot. Now I have stupid obvious scars. Not the hit look of the summer.
I’m not like that now, but I’m not like I was before either. I took all the stress out of my life, but I seem to be in a permanent state of ‘meh’ where I don’t care about anything. It’s like wearing headphones all the time, or being really tired, or a little drunk. It’s not unwelcome, because I hated being so strung out and unhappy, but it’s frustrating sometimes. Except not, because I don’t really care. Arg.
I keep hoping this is some last post-adolescent crisis that will vanish when I turn twenty-one. I’m also thinking that’s unlikely.
I have ADD – primary inattentive, so it’s more the absent-minded-professor type than the bounding-off-walls type – and disthymia, which is mild clinical depression.
I feel the disconnection with the surrounding world that others here have expressed; I know it’s like a cliche, but for most of my life I’ve felt like I’ve been on the outside looking in, like an observer of the world rather than a perticipant, and that there seems to be different rules of engagement when it comes to the outside world and me. What works for normal people when it comes to dating, socialization, and even day-to-day tasks just don’t seem to apply to me. I can act normal, but I feel as if the rest of the world sees someone crazy when they look at me.
The ADD manifests itself in one form with non-stop chatter in my head; basically, my brain never feels rested. It’s always thinking hard, always churning away. It’s been great for my careeer as an urban planner, but for day-to-day life, it’s a nuisance. If I was depicted in cartoon form, there would probably be little illustrated stars and pops constantly over my head.
I also get vivid flashbacks, sometimes multiple flashbacks daily – of embarassing or awkward moments dating back to my early childhood. The flashbacks are constant reminders that I’m different, that I’m not quite all there.
A couple of years ago, I found out more information about my biological family (I’m adopted). There’s a hstory of mental illness in my bio-family on both sides, one my biological brothers is obsessive-compulsive and bipolar, and my biological sister also has disthymia. I don’t want to have children, because I don’t want to see my flawed gene pool continue; I don’t want my children to be burdened with the things I had to deal with.
I don’t know what causes this, but I’m a very picky eater. It’s not so much taste, but texture; if a food doesn’t look or feel quite right, the gag reflex kicks in, and I can’t swallow it. Don’t mind french fries, but can’t eat baked potato. I feel uncomfortable even touching a food that I normally won’t consume. There’s no logic to the pickiness; for instance, I’ll eat apples, but gag on apple pie. I get hard dry heaves by just watching someone eat a hard-boiled egg.
I feel bad for my adoptive parents, both of whom are “normal.” They didn’t knwo what theyw ere getting themselves into when they adopted me; a beautiful, healthy blue-eyed baby boy who was considered “gifted” when tested as a toddler. They thought it was going to be all good, but I just went downhill from there.