A lot has happened since the last time I checked in here. Man, that last post was weird. It was random, just had to post it cos I felt like I had to. Anyway…
I decided to get off the Risperidone. It had undesirable effects on my thought processes and thinking. “Undesirable” being an understatement. I felt like I was really losing my sanity. Like whatever grip I had to it was mere inches. It got bad. Really bad. Had to have a friend sleep over in case I do something stupid or lose my shit completely.
My body could handle the side-effects. My brain, however, could not. It wasn’t like the breakdowns I have had in the past months. It was something else. Something that scared me. It was like my brain was doing its own thing without my permission. My thoughts became not my own.
I had to pat myself on the back when I decided to stop taking it. The Risperidone might do me good in the long run, but this whole thing has been about survival and getting better. I won’t survive had I continued it. I won’t get better if I still take it.
I’m still in a fragile stage in my recovery. Last thing I want to do is to take something that would push me further over the edge. I likened the whole Risperidone experience to me walking on a tightrope towards mental health betterment, and the Risperidone was an earthquake. Definitely not good. Perhaps when I’m a hundred percent better, I can give it another try. My stuttering, as much as it has been a bane of my existence, isn’t my priority right now. Clinical depression (and anxiety) is. I have to focus on that for now.
I had another episode two nights ago. To cut a long story short, me and my girl was supposed to go to a music festival. I was a volunteer photographer, she pre-registered. We were supposed to be on our respective lists. We were not. Sounds petty for most, but that really got to me. We got in anyway. I got a pass from a friend, she paid the entrance fee.
No, it wasn’t about me having entitlement issues. I had high expectations for the night.
We had a great day, she and I. I photographed my favorite band for a magazine and she tagged along because I needed the moral support. We had lunch at a mall and walked around being a couple and talked about life and us and shit. It was perfect.
Then we get to the music festival’s venue and that happens. Ruined the momentum. Caused an anxiety attack that I couldn’t shake, even when she was doing her damn best to calm me down. It was supposed to be an important night. I’d introduce her to my music friends, we’d watch the bands and dance and get lost in the music. But I wasn’t feeling it anymore. The psychological damage had been done.
We ended up staying a bit to wait for an (online) friend of mine that I was dying to finally meet. The friend arrived, I introduced her to Osh, we talked for a bit, and then we hightailed it out of there. I apologized to Osh profusely. I was embarrassed for a lot of reasons. I wanted her to have a fun, you know, wanted her to have a great time. I didn’t want her to see me like that (even though she eventually will.) I wanted her to see my world (the music scene.)
She instead saw a glimpse of my other world. The one that I don’t want her to see. Wanted to spare her from that, but…I know I can’t. That world, the madness in my brain, is a part of me. She’s accepted that part of me, I know. I just…I don’t know.
The night ended on a rather high note, save for one instance. We ended up hanging out at a Starbucks where we talked and talked. I talked and talked, rather. She’s still a bit reserved when she’s around me. But she tries. And that means the world to me.
As for that one instance…well…it was a horrifying moment. I went to the restroom to wash my face. Looked up at the mirror and I saw the monster I used to see myself as. The look on his face…Jesus. It was frightening. He looked like he was pissed off because I’ve been trying to get rid of him. I shudder to think what it means.
To find yourself face to face with the monster inside you … God. Heavens help me. Heavens help everyone around me.