Somehow, I managed not to exhaust myself.
As QB’s birthday approaches, I am becoming very sad.
Lately, also, I’ve been having a hard time grieving for Joe. I miss him and it sucks that he’s not around.
My neighbor was “taken out” (our little expression here in the building which means transported by ambulance) to the hospital over the weekend and now he’s having an operation. I just found this out yesterday. He is the only neighbor of mine who is a friend as well.
Those are the only reasons I can think of for why I had trouble last night.
I’m not sure what happened because my perspective is skewed, but I remember noticing my mother seemed very confused and unfit to travel to Greece. She is leaving this coming weekend on an Elderhostel trip. She is 81 years old. Mazel tov. I called my brothers. Then I was the one confused.
I started getting messages from the radio, all kinds of messages, some originating from certain people and some just from radioland. The DJ’s or interviewers would say something and it meant something just for me, a special message that had meaning for me, or instructions. Sometimes I listened very carefully to the radio and other times I wanted to block the sound out of my ears but was still very fascinated so I didn’t shut the radio off.
Then the voices started. The voices were at first instructional. They told me “Meet me in an hour,” things like that that I could ignore. When I got near my living room desk where I keep my pills, they told me, “Feed Puzzle (my dog) your pills, one after the other!” Thinking quickly (or as fast as I could in that state) I put her in her crate and shut the bedroom door, where she would be safe from any pills. I told the voice to fuck off.
The most horrible thing that the voices do is to tease me and mimic me. When I think something, they say it out loud immediately after. Only they say something that’s deep in my mind. It’s very embarrassing, because although I know nobody but me can hear the voices, I feel deeply shamed hearing my own thoughts. Or I worry needlessly that the neighbors can hear my inner thoughts. I am so shamed in fact that it is torture. It is like being ripped apart, having my head split open for birds to feed upon.
My therapist called me (on my request) and we talked for a bit. She denied sending me evil messages. I took some extra Thorazine with my bedtime meds and some extra Abilify this morning. I do feel better. In fact I feel totally back to normal.
Time to feed the dog. She just reminded me.