How do you know what is paranoia and what is totally normal concerns? Surely everyone is worried about a terrorist attack? World War three? Donald trump winning presidency? I cannot be alone in thinking that everyone is starring at me in every public situation, or that every song contains my name in it somewhere, surely it is indicative of some sort of mystical sign. Am I? How about the fact I have finally accepted maybe my Schitzotypal scores are a confirmation that I am gifted and have decided to become a clairvoyant? Granted not everyone is gifted but to those of you that are…
I am trying to break down when my mind slips from something rational into irrational and paranoid and possibly at times verging on psychosis. It always seems to be the war issue that I become obsessed with, fluke? I think not. I like to think it is a sign,that I get some sort of warning. I am adamant that Starbucks in the Oracle of my home town is going to be a target, I can no longer sit and enjoy my skinny latte in the heat whilst making up background stories for other coffee drinkers. Instead I look for bags that look suspect, or bags that look like they are carrying a gun,or people who look shifty and fit into the stereotype of someone about to blow their torso into an espresso. Or my torso. It is all too much. It has always been there this niggle, but it grew into a little annoying voice which would ask me ” where can you hide? What can you do? Have you enough knowledge yet to escape this situation? Would you save that child with chocolate around its face or use its body to hide under?” to what is now the kind of voice you imgaine screaming at you in fat camp ” leave. Evacuate the premises. DO NOT draw attention to yourself or make eye contact. BLEND IN! Go go go” and go I now do. Dragging friends along who seem happy to appease my emergency drill behaviour.
It is not just my self I have to think of. I have children. What was I thinking? How can I save a tribe? Okay. So without them knowing I drip useful information to them. Little tiny possible survival tips. I know the eldest is obedient, the little one will do as he is told also, but the middle child… Will have us all killed. He cannot stay quiet, he is disobedient, thinks of himself as immortal, possibly would love all the action.. Holy mother, he will die and have us all sentenced to the torso espresso. Is it wrong to gag your own child? I would just like to throw my premonition out there now, more for my clairvoyance future reputation, the Oracle will go down and I am sure as sure the security there will make a fabulous inside job, there will be torso espressos all round and you will find me lying, playing dead on my children possibly with one child having a sock stuffed in his mouth.
Every night I read the news, not because I care overly much about the world but because there are useful tips to be gained and I am going to need them. It helps with building a picture and assists me to understand the signs I may be missing. The documentaries that inform us all of what may happen and how to prevent such things act like a how to guide to the terrorist. So what ever it says.. Do the opposite. I could go on to where I am fleeing to in the case of a war break out but I cannot risk you all flocking and ruining my plan. This is just the water around the ice berg. It is coming people and I strongly suggest you prepare.
So this is normal mother concerns?
Okay so what about the bits of daily life non war related. I hate eye contact. I hate people staring at me.. Why? Is it my hair? I hate people talking to me because I have not got the energy to analyse what they are actually on about. I hate supermarkets, headphones are the saving grace to this situation, the noise! Can everyone hear every one? Every trolley wheel? A million items in the isle hitting the baskets? that twerp pushing a crate around determined to become part of a claim? Oh and it’s so bright and the colours, I think I squint. Asda should be funding my much required bottox. I hate people really is the crunks of it. I hate people and I hate seeing. This is a day to day matter.
This day to day matter is getting worse. Now everything is bright, permanent squint. No bottox claims to God allowed. Everything is so loud and I cannot for the life of me care to figure out what it is I hear. I can’t hear even if I did try to. My Duck speaks and I hear quack quack quack. My children speak and I know I am replying but how do we speak this foreign language I do not translate? What was that child? Ting gang gooly pow dow ? Ok. Lata da hum. You see?
Therapy are noticing something is wrong and my brain won’t tell my mouth what. Or the bit of my brain willing to hear the other. Is it working? Helloooo brain. They keep asking what I thought of a situation and I have not got a scooby what they are on about. Five minutes ago you say? Was I present? I have no thoughts that I can make out and definitely not a feeling in the world. Not one. I do have a ton of seeing and hearing, lights and clatter.
The one thing I am able to do is feel and see something I can only describe as mystical. I have had periods in my life like this before. I have had a ghost take up permanent residence twice in my life. One that looked like me in fifty years and I suspect was a domestic abuse victim, she would play with my music night and day and stroke my hair whilst I slept. The other was not as nice, he was a man that looked suspiciously like a farmer. He wasn’t I could tell but I think he had delusions. He successfully managed to screw with every electrical appliance I owned, by the time he got to my hair dryer and I was too broke to replace it (after replacing a washing machine, a cooker, a hoover) I had had enough and called in the local vicar to perform an exorcism. It did remove him from my home but I still always catch him in my front garden now and then.
What ever these things are or where ever they come from I am now sure of one thing. During these mystical times I am the most sure of life than I am ever. I feel able to deal with what ever comes my way and not care. I will tackle anything and everyone. I become confident in my judgements and have little room in my head to bother with anyone. The world can do one and I shall listen to my gut and any other messages I receive.
The thing that bothers me is that these “gifts” are also a sign of paranoia and psychosis. Casting my wand back to periods in my life when actual things appeared, it is wise to acknowledge I was beyond overwhelmed. Too much had been happening that resulted in me stopping to respond to it, I can question the conclusion that I was having a delayed reaction that verged on seriously ill. No one noticed because I am a golden globe actress at hiding myself. Is this what is happening now?
I have alienated myself from people. Family, friends, therapy, duck, even my children. Seemingly present but actually I am on some island somewhere and I am unsure of who is orchestrating my speech. I don’t want to be spoken to, looked at, touched, because I do not believe I am here. I see everything and nothing and hear everything and nothing. I definitely feel nothing. The only thing I have is my powers and take comfort in knowing I am not alone and I am being comforted by mystical beings.
Paranoia, scitzotypal and psychosis. Can you have one singular? I am pretty sure they all go together. But how do I know what is actually real and what isn’t?Because the real seems unreal and the unreal seems scarily real by “normal” peoples text books. So what do I do? I am assuming I keep going and hope it all makes sense but I worry that I am actually beginning to show signs I need some bloody good medication and maybe some respite in a lovely hospital.
What annoys me amongst this is the way my communication is down and no one is capable of noticing until it is up and running. So I cannot get any validation to it or to the fact I am actually here.. Helloooo can you really see me?