Dec 12, 2018

I’ve got so much to tell

Guest Author: Sean

This content contains explicit and sensitive information that may not be suitable for all ages.

My life changed forever when my mom died — I became very depressed.

I was in a dark place in my mind.

I was only 22 and still very much a mama’s boy. I fell into a depression. I started going to clubs and partying all weekend, plus I was getting into a lot of fights. I was in a dark place in my mind. To ease the pain, I fought or slept with women to take away the pain. I wasn’t on any meds at that point. I just smoked weed a lot of weed. But there was no numbing any feeling. I struggled daily with loss for years. Any holiday sucked. My birthday and Christmas just made me feel down and like something was missing.

I still, to this day, go to my parents grave to say ‘hello’ and tell them what’s going on in my life. It’s a way I use to vent. It weighs on me heavily that my mom passed from Lupus complications. She passed away on July 17, 2000. And so did a part of my heart. Like I said before, forever is a myth.

Like I said before, forever is a myth.

The psychosis, I guess, started in September 2008.

It started with me talking to myself and not noticing that it was not thoughts but a voice in my head. They got louder and louder and it told me my friends will suffer, everyone I know will suffer.

At that time, I honestly thought it wasn’t in my head and people were actually trying to hurt me, my friends, and family. I listened to the same cds over and over again — some songs still cause me anxiety. I wasn’t sleeping. If I did, I had bad dreams the kind that feel real too. During this time, my body was vibrating like a power box. I was having thoughts of suicide all the time. The voices would tell me to jump and not worry whether someone will stop you or not.

Looking at it now. Who was going to help me? I almost jumped a few times. It was a scary time in my life. I don’t think I slept, really, for months. I should be dead. But I survived that. Going through hell on my own saw me getting distant from everyone. I lost it. I didn’t want to be around anyone friends family anyone. My son was my only friend. I was a SAHD then too. Going through hell made it hard to manage my meds and I began abusing them and going to my doctor early. He’s a good man to me. He’s just a busy guy. He goes out of his way for me and has since I was a teenager with girl trouble.

My son’s smile meant the world to me.

My spouse ended up calling CAS on me. They came into our life and a few months went by, but I was doing my job as a parent. No matter how bad it was for me, my son’s smile meant the world to me. There’s no way I wanna hurt his smile. Even when I was hallucinating, I was still able to take care of my son. I would see things in the sky and play at the park. I can honestly say it was like what the movies make bad acid trip look like. So can you imagine a bad acid trip that lasted four years. It was absolutely terrifying, I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I started getting very paranoid and I was putting screws into the windows. I changed the locks. I put on a deadbolt.

My spouse and I at the time were fighting so much I think she actually began to hate me. But there was nothing I could do about that. My mind wasn’t right. One night, as I tried to screw in a window, I got stabbed in the hand with the screwdriver. I guess I was just very upset, I don’t know. Since I already had depression and anxiety, it was a thousand times amplified during that time and that’s an understatement. I couldn’t look up. I couldn’t look down. I couldn’t look anywhere without my eyes playing tricks on me, or my ears would play tricks on me inside the house and outside of the house which made going outside very difficult.

Everything came to a head and I ended up moving out and lived with my dad. I went into the hospital in April 2009 and I got out the beginning of May 2009. After I left I still suffered from psychosis and ended up overdosing  — I should be dead. By the grace of God, I’m still here. I’ve got so much to tell. I just wanna talk about it. Writing for me isn’t easy. I get my thoughts confused. It’s my ADD acting up.