This year has been interesting to say the least. Early on in February, I admitted myself to the hospital into the psychiatric ward. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on with me, but I figured I would find some answers there.
For the couple weeks leading up to my visit at the hospital, I began experiencing psychological distress which led up to a full psychotic break with reality, or existential crisis. I was having an extremely difficult time concentrating, often repeating myself or tasks. I experienced manic depressive-like episodes and was unable to control my emotions, tearing up and crying for what appeared to be no reason. I began having paranoid thoughts about others, and myself.
It was the night before I admitted myself that things got really bad and started to feel like I was losing control. For the first time, I was having an extremely difficult time distinguishing what was real and what was only part of my mind. At this point my thinking had become almost entirely delusional.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt fine, a little tired but otherwise normal as if nothing had happened. I went off to work like any ordinary day. Then something happened again. I entered a manic like state of elation and the delusional thoughts started all over again. I thought I could see the future. I thought I was creating some elaborate plan that would propel me into the future, into a new world.
I left that night, leaving a note for my boss and not just any note – crazy talk to say the least. Looking back and reading it, I was clearly not of sound mind. That night, I got home and was completely deluded with elation. I thought my plan was set in motion. I started dancing with my dog. I believed I could teach him to speak, and walk on his back legs like a human. I started to believe I was going to go to sleep and wake up in a new world.
It wasn’t until I started to come down from this high that I realized how alone I was, and the paranoia crept back in. I could feel the fabric of my reality ripping away around me. I could feel the spirits whirling through the air. I told myself I knew this moment would come, and they were here for me now. I believed someone was coming for me, and that they were in my house.
This is the night I called the paramedics and admitted myself into the hospital. During the ride to the hospital, my elated mood returned. I believed I had a message for the world, and these paramedics were going to help me deliver it. Everything was set in motion.
Once I arrived at the hospital, the paranoia and delusional thinking returned full force. I believed this was some sort of game and everyone was in on it but me. I thought this was some type of cruel joke, as I sat in this crappy, run down hospital room. My emotions got the best of me. I broke down in tears multiple times, and could hear the voices of my parents. I experienced delusion after delusion as if fear had taken over my mind as to what would happen to me.
The swirling chaos in my mind was almost too much to handle. When the nurse came in to ask me some questions, I started to believe that I had done something horrible and blocked it from my memory. Did I hurt someone? I questioned myself, and persecuted myself for a multitude of unreal scenarios conjured by my mind. “I’m a psychopath aren’t I and I have done something really bad” is what I thought to myself.