Falling apples

When can we choose psychosis over medical intervention? While it’s scary and bizarre, sometimes it’s better than the reality that you’re broken.

To heal you first need to acknowledge that you’re fucked up. Then you must accept that you’re fucked up. Only then can you ask for help. Getting help and going through with treatment is hard. It’s hard because not everyone has the strength to get through their battle. Many lose their battle because they quit. They punch their ticket and leave a mess behind. That rings through generations as an echo of pain.

It’s really hard sometimes. It’s even harder to see where someone lost that battle. It reminds you that it’s not a one time battle. It’s a battle you have to choose to fight every day.

I spend a lot of time getting by. I’m not complaining here. I’m just saying that some days are really hard. I don’t know how many times lately I have drove out into the middle of nowhere and just screamed out my pain. Yelled at the rocks. Cursed to the sky. Threw stones at invisible giants. All of this to just have moments of feeling like I can feel normal around others. Lately I’ve been struggling with it more. We have added medication to make me seem more calm around others, but while some things are starting to calm, the autism is presenting more. While I struggle to hide my sensitivity to things around me, I deal with the fact that I’m noticing it more myself and now worry if everyone else will see through the mask I wore for years.

Tonight is hard. I’m dealing with so much that my mind is doing things that I need to address. I can’t dismiss visual or auditory hallucinations. Are they hallucinations? Lights flashing in the corners of my vision. The reality is I just want to ignore it and accept the psychosis, because the alternative is scary.

Now it hits. The scene of things hanging off the branches. Shoes against a blue sky. The times I saw things I wished I hadn’t. That thing that left a stain. empathy is overwhelming sometimes because trying to figure out why leads to what, and finding the what leads to the pain of understanding. That they felt so much pain, loss, misery, that it was better to them to leave. Seeing the reality of there being nothing left but an empty shell and a spent soul. Seeing things like that wears you down.

So while I sit fighting my demons and feel overwhelmed and stressed beyond measure, I don’t want to ever make that choice. Instead I take time for therapy and self care. I work on what I can control. I learn from the choices made by others and take that knowledge with me to fight another day.

Published by Snowy Owl

There was a lot more written here before. Then I saw it was irrelevant. I am just another person with an autoimmune disease and spectrum ”disorder” who is highly sensitive to their environment. I thought I would write a few things down, so here you go. Swim at your own risk!

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