"So Many Directions I Don't Which Way to Go."

"I'm  so busy doing nothing, I've got nothing to show"

 

- Middle Class Rut - "New Low"

 

This site has hit the nail on the head for me. 

I always knew something wasn't right, 

but couldn't figure exactly what was wrong.

And now I understand why.

It gets to that point where I am so accustomed to these 'day dreams' 

that I'm hardly aware that they exist, they are what I've always

considered to be normal.

 

At first I didn't know what my problem  could be, a slew of things I was guessing.

Schizoid Personality Disorder, Hyper-Sensitivity.

I did know for a fact that there was some serious anxiety going on but not the kind listed for anxiety disorders.

I recall only having a single panic attack in my life, so I wouldn't consider my anxiety to be that sort of anxiety.

 

Mine was more like this.

I am terrified to walk out to my car in front of the neighbors during the day. Pretty much everywhere actually now that I think about it, I don't even park in front of Express Tire anymore when I go to work because it got so bad. I feel like I am walking funny, or just don't know how to walk period, maybe this stems from the constant ridicule and humiliation I received Utah's fabulous staff. Carlie,  stopping a unit with 60 girls on it, to point out how stiff and robotic I looked when I walked. As soon as she got a good 20 of them to laugh, she then proceeded to ask if anyone on the unit would help show me how to walk normal. 

I had  heard maybe one or two people, say the same thing about how I would move around,

but never kept it in mind.

I was standing there totally confused, and embarrassed, unable to make any sense of why they were doing this to me. 

I COULDN'T SEE WHAT THEY SAW.

I couldn't see what they were seeing me do, when I was on the highest amount of Abilify that could be prescribed to a person, (30mg) and I was 14 at the time. Abilifys cheap lab rat, before they actually put the stuff on the market and later made it illegal to prescribe to minors.

However I did notice sometimes  when I'd catch my self drooling on the book I was reading.

So hopped up on anti-psychotics I didn't need, as well as the good 95% of who I lived and suffered with didn't need.

5 years later still trying to rebuild my life since that place, and off the meds, I walk fine supposedly now.

But still feel like I don't. 

One of the permanent side effects Abilify  winds up leaving you with after your done is 'Ataxia'

Always gotta be doing something, constant movement from all of your limbs. Oh and usually diabetes too.

 

 

ANYWAYS I hate walking to my car with a passion. It feels to out in the open. I always assume I'm being judged. I would give anything to be like a normal person, to just walk anywhere and not even think about these stupid little things. This constant worrying has really kept me from living my life the way I'd like too.

Everywhere I was ever placed growing up, I lived my life walking on eggshells. Paranoid over what the next hour would bring. Some girl you thought was your closest friend, could make something up to tell a staff, and the next thing you know you are spending the next 6 hours facing a wall forced to sit up straight, and try to come up with something to put down on your statement of facts. It isn't until the 7th hour Angie realizes I have no clue what I did and finally tells me Sarah set me up. Great! 7 hours of my life I can never get back.

 

I don't know. Two years of living that way. Really f***ed things up. 

And going straight to another step-down facility for a year right after that instead of going home?

Really, really, effed with my head. 

You never really know when your going home the day you end up in those places. It's not like jail where you have a set time and you get phone calls. You get nothing. You don't hear music for years. You don't get to speak to your friends that you never even got to say goodbye to.

31/2 years earlier when you were woken up in the dead of night on st. pattys day

You never really think that that is going to be the last time you see the bedroom you grew up in. The last time you ever see your family living together. The last time you ever see your parents married, or all the pictures, drawing, and possessions in your room.

It's that moment right there where I was taken in my sleep and flown to another state where I was able to sit down and really digest what freedom was. What freedom I had, and now lost. I blame myself for all of it. But I would wait and wait year after year wondering if they would send me home.

Unfortunately since I wasn't on insurance and I was paid for by the state my likelyhood of going home in 7 months, turns into years, but really no one knows when. They just say "It all depends on you."

*pukes*

 

I remember the week I finally got my discharge papers. Still then I didn't believe I was leaving.  It wasn't until the morning of when I received my flight itinerary I believed I was actually leaving this nightmare.

In the last year I had actually begun to think my previous life never existed. When you have no contact with anyone or see things, the usual things from that life, you slowly begin to doubt it's existence. And that is sad. There is no hope left in you AND by that point and why should there be? You're still not going home after you leave this place. I knew that. And there was nothing I could do about that. Didn't have the slightest clue when I'd be leaving the next place. And at the point, I really didn't care, as long as it was better than the one I just left.

 

 

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Comment by glorybemine on July 26, 2011 at 10:51pm
Hey, your story is quite sad. Not pitying you here, just able to relate to that helpless feeling. I was always very concious of how people viewed me and thought of me. Where is your home/family? Is there anyone who can support you financially? Have you tried therapy? I hope things get better for you soon. Hang in there!xx

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