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an initial monologue, based on true events.

Jun 05, 2010 - 0 comments













psychotropic meds


mental breakdown


Anti-psychotic meds

i'm an insignificant speck on earth, there would be no ripple effect when i'm gone, if i died today it would be like i hadn't lived at all. i've made no impact on anything or anybody, i've made no progress in my life. i'm never going to get married because i'm too overweight and ugly to even find a significant other. i don't put myself 'out there' because what's the point?  that's always the bottom line, what's the point... nothing good will come from me. i can't make others happy, and nobody can make me happy. so what's the point. i'm invisible, i blend right into the walls.

i've tried in the past to make myself feel better, but at the expense of others. i've lost a good hand-full of friends because of my depression/anxiety. i can make friends, but apparently i can't keep them anymore. i can't go to parties, clubs, or any kind of social gathering because of my agoraphobia. i only go out if i absolutely have to for work or if i have to go to the store, i have three cats, that's all i have. i'll go out for them.

i tried so hard when i was a teenager to keep my depression/anxiety a secret (lest i be called selfish or childish, or for a 'friend' to roll his/her eyes at me, thus making me feel worse). at 19 i gave up trying to hide, i didn't give up; i let the issue build and build, i let it get bigger and bigger, until it burst.

many things happened since then. because of my behavior i haven't seen or spoken to that hand-full of 'friends' (you know, the ones that are supposed to be there and care for you the most?) in 4 years. my behavior has effected my job and college life. i probably won't go back to school because of this damn phobia.  i've also been given several types of medication, trial and error, permanant, what have you. some anti-psychotics, some psychotropic. i hate having to be controlled through chemicals...but they're working.

mental health problems run heavily in my family. it would've helped to know this before i had my little psychotic break, which some people thought i was faking....nobody taught me how to lose control, nobody told me how to hang on to your sanity literally by a string (that wasn't meant to sound emo or anything. i'm a pretty literal speaker when i'm serious), and nobody told me how to involuntarily blank out for 10-20 seconds where i hear everything around me but can't comprehend any of it. also, nobody taught me how derealization/depersonalization worked. i've been living in a dream for the past 10 years! i'm having a hard time believing i'm even typing this out!

i had a list of things i'd brought up to my parents (mom and stepdad for most of my life), but they'd say 'you're too young for that' or 'go run around the house a few times, that'll calm you down' or this little lie 'we can't afford that' INSURANCE! I HAD INSURANCE!! so yes they could have. i was included in the best insurance policy that i'm aware of. copays were 5 dollars.....they'll pay major bucks to pay for a dying dog, but it's ok if i'm set aside with a possible ruptured disc, or a head injury, or a sickness so bad i couldn't move, blink, eat, or even drink...when finally i'm taken to my pediatrician who says nothing's wrong with me...bull....****. or the fact that my gall bladder was going the right way to exploding...oh, hello, cepsis.  radiology finds no evidence/proof of gall bladder attacks, so insurance won't pay. then years later one morning i woke up to the worst pain i'd ever felt (besides gall bladder), not knowing what it was i called my mother into my room...there i am sobbing in such intense comes mom 'what's the problem?'  'mom...something is's swollen...and i can't move it'  'there you go again, making a mountain out of a mole hill'  'what?? i'm in legitimate pain and you're mocking me?'  'i'm not mocking you, i'm trying to tell you to stop complaining about your ailments'...that's all i remember before not being able to get back to sleep.  it was something that could've been easily remedied...nope, no time, you're just gonna have to crawl to the bathroom while your parents mock you 'oh it's not that bad', let me take this ice-pick and drive it into the ball of your foot, would that be acceptable?   so i walked on it for 3 years.  i finally get insurance through work, i see pediatrist, oop! turns out i broke a bone...sesmoiditis, a stress fracture, something that could've easily been fixed. last time i knew, bone-breaking requires immediate medical care. not for me, i'm just not as important...i'm a speck. i'm not real.  

also turns out i've repressed memories of abuse in the past from that same stepfather. mom was completely unaware.  (had she BEEN aware of anything he'd done, she would've kicked him to the curb with all his junk)...i've put everything out in the open, besides the details of my stepdad's abuse. i can't even tell my therapist that yet.   mum is more understanding and we're close now thanks to hours of chit chat, sharing our stories, which have turned out to be quite similar.  her father was physically abusive, my father was an addict and an alcoholic, and my stepfather was an abusive sociopath (i sympathize for sociopaths, but not when it's personal...let's get real).  he tried to kill me on several occasions.

to turn the lights back up after a lengthy performance, it's true that you don't realize that someone has been abusive until it's over, or if someone else sheds light on it. trauma will mess one up if he/she doesn't get the right treatment at the right time. don't assume that someone's complaint is not genuine, their appendix might really be in need of emergency surgery, if someone says 'hey i can't move, my back hurts too bad'  'what'd you do yesterday?' 'i fell and i heard a crack in my spine'  'did you tell someone?'  'yea but nobody took me seriously'...i smell paralysis.  or in my case, a head injury, cepsis, broken bones AND unexplained bloody noses AND my mind slipping away like molasses in July, only held together by the urge to keep grabbing on to the chunks that drip from the pail...also with no insurance to be taken to the ER then to a safe psych ward somewhere, anywhere, away from the toxic environment i grew up in.  i know some places/neighborhoods are worse, but that was my personal hell.  the only friend who showed concern over how i looked and acted was a friend named Mike...he thought i had two black eyes, and he was worried that i was being mistreated at home. i assured him that i was ok, that i was just tired....and that was a fact, both his concerns and my response..  i went days without sleeping because of my anxiety, waiting for something bad to happen when my stepdad came around...i had to be on high alert all the time...everytime i heard his voice, or even felt his presence. hyper-vigilance is not always a good thing, nor is stress, it'll drain you, make you sick, make you break out, you'll get boils on your butt (that never happened to me, but i've heard of it happening), you'll lash out in anger, you'll act strangely around your friends...they'll see it but they won't tell you until you've really f--ked up somehow, ending the relationship eventually, and indefinitely.

so how do i end this? 'nobody cares'? 'i hate my life/my life *****'?

perhaps 'i'm finally getting the help i need, and slowly but surely, the pieces of my mental jigsaw puzzle will be put back in place. and i may forgive, but i'll never forget'.

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