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La Mariposa

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About La Mariposa

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  • Birthday 02/27/1997

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    Male
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    Canada
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    Writing, Art, Music, Cooking, Baking, Gaming.

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  1. This is honestly just going to be all over the place. A rant. I'm honestly fed-up. My family thinks they're helping. They act like they care, but all they do is betray me while my back is turned. They talk behind me. About me. They don't know the first thing about me, so it invites them to do things like snoop through my computer, read all of my facebook messages, try to learn all of my dirty little secrets just because they want and 'need' to know about me. I don't trust them. Not a single one. My mother, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins- they've all betrayed me in some form. Done unforgivable things. Told me to **** myself. Started drama. Demeaned and bullied me. Treated me like less than a dog. And now that I'm grown they think we can be the best of friends and it's all sugar and rainbows. They never once apologized for anything they'd done. Don't get me wrong, I don't want an apology anymore. It would be hollow and pointless because they didn't feel sorry. They did it because I brought it up. They're all self-serving egotists who think they're grand, superior beings. When in actuality, they're all ants and insignificant insects just waiting to leech off of you. I've severed my ties with the majority of them. I'm 20 now. And honestly? I can't take care of myself. I'm dependent and it sucks. People tell me to: 'Get a job' (not so much a big deal, I miss working so much), 'Move out' (again, not a big deal. I WANT to move out). But the problem with those two is that I cannot leave my house. I have severe anxiety/depression that gets in the way. I have panic attacks from going outside, from even thinking of going outside. It's debilitating and I start breathing like I have asthma and losing myself in the chaos. My thoughts get really erratic and 'cloudy' and I shut down. I even have to start mumbling to myself to try and keep my focus. No one believes I have agoraphobia, anxiety, depression. (I have concerns of BPD but they won't listen) and they'll say things like "Me too". No. Having anxious feelings every once in a while doesn't mean you have anxiety. Anxiety is seeing every variable when you think of doing an action. Sitting there for hours on end staring at nothing and conceiving preposterous, yet seemingly inevitable scenarios of what's to come. Being afraid to be in crowds, near people, places, large spaces you can't escape from, small spaces you can't escape from, getting in lines, doing anything with people and being so uncomfortable to the point that you can only go out at night (when I can. I can't leave my house for months. And honestly? I haven't been properly able to in about 6 months.). I want to be alone. But honestly I just know I'll **** myself the moment I move out. And it's not for missing anyone, it's just that my only reason for holding back and not doing it in this house is because I don't want to be a cry for attention. I'm not going to the hospital. Not being revived. Not talking to a doctor/psychiatrist who'll dismiss me again and say something along the lines of it all being in my head or me being difficult or wanting attention. If I wanted attention all of this would be going on Facebook. Or I'd tell family members about it. I'm tired. Tired of hallucinating. Tired of being tired every day. Being unable to do things normal people can. Hallucinating. Getting tactile and auditory hallucinations. Hearing voices. Feeling breathing on the nape of my neck, in my ear, hearing people not there talk to me. Being told it's 'ghosts' or 'spirits' and being led to believe by my family that I'm 'psychic' or some stupid nonsense. This place doesn't feel real. It's a prison. Compared to the other worlds I've seen/been to, and feeling like this is nothing more than a movie, or an inconvenience that I'm stuck in, I want out. I wanted help. I wanted professional help. But all I got were discount psychiatrists who couldn't give less of a damn about me. And now? Now I'm alone. In my house. Sitting here, typing this. And there's no reason to hold back. But there's also nothing here to help me get an attempt. I have several exit strategies, but I'd have to go outside to get/attempt them. I'm seeing my Nurse on the 13th. Going to tell her I quit. I'm done seeking help. Because I haven't been helped. And that I am going to **** myself one day. It's inevitable. I wasn't seeking help for magic pills to make my life better. To prolong my suffering here. To be a martyr for my family because they want to die ahead of me and leave me here, rotting in this hell hole. I don't want to be here. And I don't mean this town, city, province or country- I mean the whole planet and around humans. People don't know my thought process. I'm homicidal about 99.9% of the time. Even if it sounds cruel, (I'm fairly certain/have suspicions of being a sociopath) I want the world to burn. In an ocean of fire, and every last human to fall with it. But I'll settle for leaving it. I'm tired of being around lesser beings all the time. I don't feel like/never have felt I was a human or belonged. This world never once felt worthy of me. I just wanted my family to know that I had something wrong before I take my leave from here. This isn't a cry for attention. Some of them believe I'm 'making up' my symptoms, and half the time it feels like I am, too. And I wish I was. I wish they were just something I could make go away. But I can't. Hatred kept me going for so long. The disdain for the mortals who ruined my life. They killed my soul, my sense of family, my innocence, my reason to live and love and dared to ask me why I hate them. I set about getting even for a few years. Doing everything I could to spite them and get even. And once that was done, when the final and biggest abuser was gone, I felt empty. Nothing. Absolutely no hatred, anger, sadness, joy- nothing. My purpose was fulfilled years ago. And now I have to enter oblivion. I've been sexually assaulted by my step-brother when I was six. Repressed it until sixteen. My step-dad who was his father said: "You're a ****ing liar". My mom covered it up. He attacked me (same year). Shoved me into a corner. Choked me. I punched his glasses off, and kept hitting him until he let go. My mother wouldn't let me go to school. He attacked me while back turned. And my brother said I attacked him. He lied for him. My older brother has always called me 'gay', told me to '**** myself', that 'no one likes you, or would miss you', treated me like absolute for over 2 decades and now suddenly thinks we can be the best of friends. I've even had to call the cops on him because he's that unstable. I can't deal with these people, anymore. They've all royally screwed me and I'm over it. I don't have mercy, compassion or forgiveness. Only contempt and disdain for the people I've had to endure through. And like I said before; I don't feel like a human. An AI sometimes, even a God. Which I've read is a part of Bipolar. And I suspect (and a few friends who are in psychiatry/psychology agree with me) but I'll never know. It's not going to be diagnosed because I'm over it. I give up. Thanks, for reading. Especially if you stuck through all of this. -Mariposa
  2. My 'Psychiatrist' I had been to see who dismissed me, my psychotic/BPD symptoms, Agoraphobic, SAD, GAD turned out not to be a psychiatrist. She was a CONSULTANT 'Temporary' "Psychiatrist". I don't know what to do right now but it honestly feels like a manic episode or maybe even a psychotic break. I'm shaking. Everything is funny. I'm having a laughing fit ever since I found out just moments ago that she wasn't the licensed professional I had been led to believe her to be. My head's getting hazy/fuzzy. I feel like I might do something reckless that I ordinarily wouldn't. I don't know what's happening because I'm being misdiagnosed, mistreated by doctors/nurses/psychiatrists and even psychiatric *temporary* consultants. I'm spiraling down into darkness and don't know what's left to do. -Mariposa
  3. I've been off my medication for about 2, almost three weeks. I was on Zoloft 100 mg and now nothing. I'm being tormented by these hallucinations that are getting exceedingly worse. Usually hallucinations are grouped in these formats; A) Fleeting glimpses of things. Like maybe you see a white dog in the corner of your eye following you around or moving and when you look it's gone. (One of my simpler ones.) B) Ones that don't go away. Shadowy guys who are there when I wake up at night and in the mornings. One hangs out on my ceiling and stares down at me, another towers over me, and I saw one standing over my sister at one point while she was sleeping. C) Random things. Shirts. Hands. Objects. I saw a pan in the middle of the floor that I managed to 'trip' on. It wasn't there. Tactile: Top-tier, absolute WORST possible outcome for hallucinations. You don't ever want to get these, as they are kind of the beginning of the end for all normalcy in your life. My first one that I can recall that was really a doozey was four years ago. I heard a man breathing really coarsely in my ear for an hour and a half. It didn't stop, there was no interruptions. Before that I'd hear little things, like family members, voices I recognized or others talking to me, saying things, and generally doing random things. ((These are more 'Auditory hallucinations'.)) Two years ago I saw something on a late-night walk. I thought it was a person, maybe an animal. It was dark, and seemed black-ish and the place was lit fairly okay. I walked forward and it seemed to take more shape as time went on and began to move. It seemed less human and more something else at that point. It grabbed my calve and I could physically feel it. At that point I started to stride away (but not run because I was afraid it could run as well). I looked behind me, and it was definitely following. I moved faster, and so did it. Making my way along the path I usually take, I kept checking over my shoulder and eventually it was gone and I was able to calm down a little more. That was one of my more intense tactile hallucinations. Smaller ones tend to be things like spiders or insects on my skin crawling around. Breathing on the nape/back of my neck. People brushing against my shoulder, touching my hair, my back, or my arms. I've started to write down my symptoms, and I feel like I should catalog a few of them for others to read/hopefully respond to. Can't sleep. They're watching me. In my bedroom. Outside. In the house. In the darkness. There when I wake up. Wake up a few times at night because of them. They stare at me, won't go away. Have to sleep with the lights on as an extra precaution. Can't go outside, especially when it's dark. They'll get me. Have to constantly look over my shoulder, stay out of the dark as they get worse that way. Having severe panic attacks/breakdowns. Trying to listen to music by blaring it in my ears to calm down but it more or less just helps me to function to a simpler level than usual. (My hands start shaking, teeth start chattering, head gets cloudy, get so scared, feel like running, screaming, gripping onto my family in terror, trying to find someone, anyone to help me.) It takes a lot to not breakdown now. Scared of going outside- they wait for me out there. Not safe out there. Not safe in here. Don't know what to do. Constantly afraid. More terrified now than I ever have been in my entire life. Can't looks out windows nor have open doors. Hard time sleeping in my bedroom. Scared of being in rooms along. Getting exceedingly suicidal. Think of suicide near-constantly. I'm tired. This is all physically/mentally draining. Have to keep myself busy to try and keep my mind off thing/stop the hallucinations somewhat. I don't know what to do. My sanity is waning. -Mariposa
  4. I've been on a few different kinds of medications with varying degrees of minimal 'success' with either or. 75 mg of Venlafaxine. Seroqeul. Ativan. 100 mg of Zoloft. None of them really seemed to have the desired effect and seemed to only amplify my feelings of depression/irritability or suicidal feelings. Whenever opening up about that, doctors only seemed to sneer at me and say that the 'doseage was fine' or 'acceptable' or 'meeting requirements' for someone of my level. I haven't been diagnosed with my mental illnesses that I've been living with for quite some time as I refused to open up to people since they all in some form or another burned me. I have absolutely no trust when it comes to family anymore or complete strangers. I actually said that to a psychiatrist. She was so stupid and closed minded she told me: "You have to trust me." "It's not that easy." "I know it's not." How? How could you possibly know? Other than a superiority complex, a few glib, snide remarks and seeming holier than thou, you honestly don't seem to know mental disorders. My counselor even agreed I hadn't been given a fair psychiatric assessment from that doctor. So, that's how I ended up here- for the past week and a little over that I've been neglecting taking my medications. People tell me I've got 'colour' back in my face, that I 'seem like the old me' and that I seem 'better' this way. My depression has come back, my irritability, emotions that are so conflicting and everchanging I can't really ever make sense of them before they go, and my sociopathy. Not to mention my dissociation is at its very pique and that mixed with the vast amount of angers I can feel honestly makes it that much easier for me to be suicidal. A common thought of mine is that; If I were to die, wouldn't this world just cease to be? Regardless of if that were true or not, I'd still have my answer if one of my attempts were successful. My hallucinations and hearing voices also came back. And I'm tired of having to deal with auditory/tactile hallucinations and not truly knowing what's 'real' anymore. I also tend to lucid 'dream' and it kind of bleeds into the 'real' world with probable and possible scenarios that I honestly won't know happened or not. I don't know what to do- I have concerns of Bipolar 1 with psychotic traits, Seasonal Affective Disorder, Agoraphobia, Dissociation, Social Anxiety (covered in agoraphobia), Generalized Anxiety Disorder (also covered in agoraphobia). There's supposed to be a new, male psychiatrist here in April and I may be able to see him depending on whether or not he comes. I have a REALLY hard time articulating my problems and talking to people face to face. I seem 'normal' when I go to these things, and I honestly need a plan of 'attack' so that he knows I'm not faking or my symptoms aren't a placebo of my life or upbringing. I'm tired of being asked "Have you ever thought you're not bipolar?" Yes. When I thought I was a normal person, that all of my stress, anxiety, depression, psychotic symptoms, and everything was something encountered by a NORMAL person. So, no, I don't believe I'm not bipolar anymore. I've done my own extensive research, found which trait(s) I have, and I have almost all of the ones presented and a few examples I could bring up. The doctors here don't really get that I'm not pulling a "oh my gosh, I can go from angry to happy and I must be bipolar" or "I searched my symptoms on webmd. Totally me." No. I can have severe what I can only call 'break downs'- I tend to not cry for varying lengths of time. Months, years, etc. And when I finally do, it's due to stressful environments. Like the adults in my home were drinking, and alcohol is one of my triggers- it drove me absolutely crazy. There's a baby in the house. Children. I had to stay with her to make sure she was safe. I have very incredibly high trust issues and I would NEVER leave her in the hands of people consuming drugs or alcohol. All that matters is her safety. And then my abusive ex-step-father came over and I had a breakdown in the dark room with the baby. I cried. Sobbed. My step-dad walked in (not the abusive one) and asked if I was okay. (I thought he'd heard me crying, but he didn't) and I said I was fine, and that I had something in my eyes. (I wear glasses, so it's not unlikely.) He nodded and accepted my words. I told him I was fine and that I could watch the baby. But I was so messed up that night I was having a severe panic attack. My hands started shaking, my heart was pounding in my ears, my legs were tensing up and starting to feel like bags of sand as opposed to body parts. I was trying SO hard to leave the house. But I didn't want to leave her with them. I was scared. Scared of what might happen. But I knew that I couldn't stay. I could feel it- my psychotic symptoms were also likely flaring up due to the anxiety/stress I was under. Being susceptible to hallucinations, and talking to a friend for about 20 minutes and trying to convince myself I COULD leave the house, (I have a REALLY hard time leaving) he finally succeeded in helping me. By then my breathing had resorted to basically hyperventilating and I made it, step by step to the waterfront and the swings in the darkness to comfort and calm myself down. People don't get that I'm still to this day scared of Danny. My step-dad is a very bad person. He attacked me several times when I was 16. Tried to choke me out in a corner. He only STOPPED because I punched him in the face and forced him off. I hit his glasses off his face, he cut my neck with his nail, and it all started over breakfast dishes. I had to go to school and couldn't do them. He attacked me over that. He also proceeded to do so when he threw me across the living room. They wouldn't let me go to school because they knew that I would have told someone. I would have pressed charges on him. My needs tend to come last, and everyone else's tend to outrank mine. My mother grounded me, saved his ass, told me to go to my room and that's where I began to blast vindictive music. "That's what you get" by Paramore and anything else I could belt out aloud to while cleaning my room I was now confined to. That was maybe about a month or two ago. More recently (about two weeks ago, I'm estimating) I had a very high amount of depression that turned into feeling 'nothing' but the compulsion for suicide. I walked to my waterfront with intent of losing my life. I could feel my cloudy head pounding, the hallucinations fighting to get through, hear the voices in my ear, talking over my music I blared in order to shush them but it doesn't always work. So there I was, at the water, staring at the crashing waves. Texting my friend, I told him what I was doing. He said; "You need to get back on your meds." (This was a day off my meds, mind you.) "No." We went back and forth and he conceded. I told him I felt like the 'old me' and that I was finished taking those medications. Getting my shoes at least wet, I wanted to go in the water. I wanted to lay flat on my back, and feeling the soothing caress of the waves as my body began to freeze and turn numb. That is, until the real pain set in and my nerves screamed for me to leave the water, but I'd stay until it was too late to fight back, and too late to change my mind. But things didn't exactly go my way as other people were there, and I didn't want an audience. They'd ruin it all. I contemplated going to the hospital but decided against it. I'm not that kind of person. If I have an attempt and succeed then so be it. But I'm not going to waste emergency personnel's time. I tend to say 'yes' compulsively to people and agree with them. So I'm told to go to the ER or the doctors office and I just agree and say I will but know that I'll never do it. Walking instead to the swings, I listened to music, laughed, cried, felt unfathomably 'good'. Instantly off my pills I felt manic. Full bursts of energy, I organized my entire kitchen, baked a variety of things until midnight, went outside whenever I wanted and wherever I wanted. Everything felt so 'funny' and I felt so 'giddy' but I could also out of nowhere start crying or feeling a delightful form of sadness/despair that in my state felt nice. I was back, and me. People don't really seem to get that we with mental illness tend to flock together or find comfort or home in one another because of the fact that WE all understand struggles. Though not the same, or similiar- we're a great support system. Technically speaking none of us are supposed to lean on each other, but 'normal' people don't get it. They say stupid things like 'me too' or 'same' or whatever they can to feed off our symptoms. It's Not The Same -Mariposa
  5. As civil servants these people should know better. If you're not going to have decent bed side manner or listen then you can honestly just get out of that profession. Nobody made you go into it and honestly if you're going to act this way, when/if we **** ourselves or have a suicide attempt you rightfully should be sued and have your license revoked. It's unacceptable. "Professionals" like them give the others bad rep.
  6. That was part of the reason I went back-- closure. But she also gave me false hope/entrapment to come back. "Next time we may try to diagnose you." She's nothing but a liar and I hope she loses her license. for me, well, in my case I'm a borderline sociopath stacked on top of my other mental illnesses and it honestly makes me go right for the throat when angered or set off by someone like her. Glad to know someone else gives them a taste of their own medicine.
  7. I actually just did that yesterday! Lmao. I couldn't find any conclusive or credible evidence anyone liked her in the slightest so I decided to give her first review with quite a few choice words and a 'would not recommend to anyone'. It sucks dealing with people like this. It took a lot of frustration/anger/anxiety for me to blow up like I did. One of my symptoms was brain fog and this ***** wouldn't listen to me no matter how many times I told her I couldn't remember SPECIFIC details of when/where I see things. I'm more interested in escaping them when they come. Honestly though it may be odd but the monsters can offer more comfort than the people.
  8. Yeah, I'm definitely done with people who try to make me feel 'less than'. Doctors where I live are required to be fluent in English and this one absolutely was not. She shouldn't even have a credible psychiatry license if she's going to be this arrogant. She's lucky I didn't **** myself. She would have gotten quite the lucrative law suit from my family. I'm glad you stood up for yourself, too. I saw her twice in two months. The first time was terrible. This time? I only made it half an hour into the appointment though she kept saying things to put me down. Nope. Won't fly with this one. -Mariposa
  9. So, I've been to see the psychiatrist I was previously discouraged from seeing again. And I honestly can say that I've never had such displeasure before in my entire life, including meeting her for the first time. She was absolutely the most belittling, arrogant, self-righteous, lying, underhanded 'professional' I have ever met. First of all, I caught her in several lies throughout the course of our meetings. Me: I have tactile and auditory hallucinations. Good for nothing psychiatrist: Okay, *sighs*, again, most people use those terms differently (no, they don't), you have to tell me what you mean. (Who doesn't know what hallucinations are? I mean come on, really? You're SUPPOSED to be a psychiatrist? Pfft.) Me: (About to start crying, but holding myself together. Another of my concerns: I'm fairly certain I'm Bipolar 1.) I see things, like people who aren't really there, insects, spiders, monsters, things that stalk me, talk to me and aren't really there. I've had things touch me that weren't really there but I felt it. Her: I need a specific time line on this. Me: (I answered prior that I couldn't remember but they happened in the past month.) I don't have one. (I gave up, since she kept repeating herself and being a twat while not listening to me.) Her: Okay. (Moves onto next irrelevant, boring topic.) Her: Do you know what a psychiatrist is, what I do, as opposed to a counselor? Me: *Pauses, thinking, concentrating* A Psychiatrist diagnoses mental health issues and prescribes medications accordingly. A counselor hears all of your problems from your point of view and helps you from there. Her: You could go to your MD for that. (FOR MENTAL HEALTH DIAGNOSIS? Thanks, genius.) At this point^^ she lost all credibility for me. An example would be: "Why did you come here to see me, if you don't want to listen to my diagnosis?" (She didn't diagnose me with anything, she actually refused to listen to my symptoms, refused to hear me out, and formulated her own opinion and said: You're not ___, not ____, not ____ and put words into my mouth.) Me: And I said: Because you told me to. (Terrible Psychiatrist:) "No, I OFFERED to see you again." Me: "No, you didn't! You told me to comeback for a follow-up appointment! I DIDN'T WANT to see you again." (Terrible psychiatrist): "You made no attempts to see your counselor, correct me if I'm wrong." Me: That's not true at all. And I have difficulty leaving the house.(I have concerns I'm agoraphobic, that she wouldn't listen to at all) I didn't get her texts until a day later and we were unable to meet. I am fed up, and p***** off. I'm tired of being talked down to by healthcare 'professionals'! (I start to get angry, and this is about where the yelling kicked in, the above happened sometime in-between and I'm sorry if this seems confusing as I don't remember entirely the order of things.) Her: Okay- Me: "You made me SUICIDAL! I almost killed myself on my birthday because of you! Would it matter if I killed myself tomorrow? I'm done with you. I won't be doing this again." (Storms out of room) I'm sick of bad psychiatrists and seeing ones who were just so inept, rude and full of themselves. I'm going to try and see one from a place that has credible psychiatrists, and doesn't seem to be bottom of the barrel garbage. -Mariposa
  10. @Epictetus: Thank you for replying to me. It helps. @Diego_Sebastian: That's honestly what I try to do. Distancing myself from them seems about the best I can do. @womanofthelight: They tend to hide behind laziness to excuse themselves from not doing anything and I to make themselves feel better about the situation. It's not per se that they're depressed, they just have no motivation to do anything. We live in a fairly small community and the people here can be particularly draining as they're not the brightest crayons in the box. I'm 19. I have plenty of other relatives, but we're not on speaking terms and likely won't be for the rest of my life as they're emotionally manipulative, back-stabbing self-serving narcissists that only come when they have a want for something. Legitimately when my little sister was born this August they came to see her, and took attention-seeking pictures with my cousins baby, my aunt and our grandmother. "Three generations in one picture :)))". That 'visit' was entirely about them, and not only that-- they called my little sister ugly which turned into a very large scale falling out. ((They told that to my siblings, and I told my mother about it.)) I've tried the whole 'moving out' thing and it didn't work for me. I was still caked in despair and unable to cope with a lot of things. Currently my only option to move out would be with my older brother and he and I can clash very often as we both definitely do have mental health issues. And I'm not using the term here lightly: But I think we're both bipolar as uncommon as that seems. My mother's side as A LOT of mental health issues, and my father's does as well. My aunt appears to be bipolar (different from the above mention) and lots of/if not all of this has been undocumented/diagnosed because the vast majority of my family refuse to see psychiatrists or health care professionals about themselves. So there is plenty of abuse, depression, unresolved issues, etc. I actually do write, but it's not only on forums and such, I do Admin other forums, and even write fictional works for people to enjoy. The trouble is I tend to 'lose' a lot of my talents due to my depression. Such as art, writing, music, cooking, baking, etc. Thank you all so much for taking the time to read/review my concerns. It helps more than you know, and I'll never be able to properly return the favor. -Mariposa
  11. I can't even make it outside of the house anymore and I live in a household of lazy people who don't even bother to venture out 99.9% of the time. They make promises that we'll go do this, or do that and break them so I'm left disappointed/depressed for ever thinking they'd follow through when they almost never do. When I voice my concerns/anger about them being lazy, or sleeping all day or not leaving the house, I'm 'dramatic', and naturally just 'being difficult'. Naturally. It's not as if I was disappointed/angry/bitter because none of you factually gave enough of a damn to go out with me when I need someone. I can't say this clear enough at home, so I'll put it here: I. Can't. Go. Out. Alone. I feel like I honestly don't have a voice at home. Everything I say is categorized as 'dramatic' because it's what people DON'T want to hear from me. So I'm done talking. I'm not going to be vocal anymore. I've decided, you people aren't worth my words. Least of all my breakdowns/depression/what have you. -Mariposa
  12. The two I've seen dismissed me without second thought. Hallucinations are still hallucinations- regardless of how severe. Despite what she said, anyone who's worth salt knows that an individual with hallucinations is definitely not 'normal'. I'm seeing her again on March 1st and I hope my symptoms come back so that I can properly and accurately portray myself in the way that most people don't see me. The anti-psychotics I've been on didn't help. I still hallucinated and honestly I'm tired of being talked down to by 'professionals' who can barely speak English. I don't think I had a fair chance due to the fact that they were German/East Indian respectively and spoke to me in fairly broken English. Having me repeat/explain things and even putting words into my mouth. I'm not really sure what to do either. But I appreciate your response. Hopefully you find the help you need.
  13. Hello, everyone who reads this. I have something to say: I've been having tactile hallucinations for quite some time. Seeing 'things' that weren't there, hearing things as well. My family was kind of superstitious so most of these matters were chalked up to me seeing 'ghosts' or 'higher beings'. I saw an 'angel' when I was 3 while my grandfather was in the hospital. I don't remember much about that, so I'm sorry I can't elaborate further. But ever since i can remember I've felt 'bugs' on my skin from time-to-time. Such as spiders, or what have you running across my skin. When I was 6 years old, I saw 'ghosts' in my room: A woman and a man who were both dead, the woman had a noose around her neck and was laughing at me while the man pointed but didn't speak. I also saw a little girl who was black and white in old-fashioned clothing walk into my room. I heard a man's heavy breathing in my ear for an hour and a half when I was 13. Heard whistling downstairs when no one was down there for a few hours at the same age. Things advanced more and more and I've seen/heard and experienced more and more terrifying/haunting displays. I've seen 'shadow' beings on my walks, following me, or just monstrosities in general. Such as when I was six I saw something on all fours run across a room. I've also seen 'humanoid' monsters that didn't possess eyes, had pale skin and stalked me. I swing often at night, as it's the only time I can really get out of the house due to my anxiety, seasonal affective disorder and troubles due to agoraphobia. Often times I'll see 'people' who aren't really there walking toward me. Large, pale 'humans' who don't possess a face following me to my destination. I hallucinated my mother's boyfriend having a full conversation with me, only to have the real one come over and try to strike up a different conversation that resulted in my confusion. I've heard people who were family, or video game characters call out to me. Like my mother, step-dad, etc over my head phones. And even Sheva Alomar from RE5. I try to tune it out often with Violin or any sort of music, but sometimes they're so persistent that I can't. Walking outside, I saw what appeared to be a person or animal needing help. I walked up to it and it grabbed my left leg. I felt it and felt like running but didn't do so as it was stalking me and likely would have followed at the same pace. It followed me for quite some time until it eventually faded away, whatever the four-legged monster was. I've also had a hallucination M***** my other ones that got in my way. Which I suppose can be seen as a 'mixed-blessing' due to the fact that she was doing crowd control and seemed to be 'friendly'. It was a Wendigo creature, and followed me from rooftop to rooftop, scurrying and jumping to catch up to me and chickening some of the creatures/monsters in my path, often looking to me after doing so and screeching. I don't know what to do, I honestly don't. These are some of the more prime examples I can think of, but definitely not all- and my psychiatrists brushed them off entirely. They won't listen to me, and honestly put me into more of a suicidal state as I don't feel like I'm being believed/helped. If anyone would like to reply, I'd be grateful. Thank you, -Mariposa
  14. I've honestly experience all of this, but have no idea how to articulate for you in order to solve the problem-- I'm still going through it myself. Sorry about that.
  15. Is there anything you enjoy doing? For me, I try to go out for walks at night as I have nyctophylia. But I can't always makes it out as my depression/anxiety gets in the way. Sometimes, even listening to your favorite music will help.
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