The past couple of weeks have been hell. I’ve been under a constant barrage of flashbacks, hallucinations, voices, paranoia, breakdowns, and angry outbursts. EVERYTHING has been triggering me. I came home from the Post Office the other day bawling because I had meant to send a doll out, but when I placed her in the box, saw that her fangs had fallen out somewhere.
Needless to say, it didn’t help that I’d been off my Testosterone for over a month so my estrogen was coming back and disrupting my hormonal balance. What also aided in worsening things was that I had allowed a deadline to creep up on me and felt pressured to get things done perfectly and soon. We already know that I can’t hold a job for multiple reasons: a huge part being that schedules and routines overwhelm me.
And I was extremely overwhelmed these last few days. I had moments where I literally froze and would just sit and do nothing for many minutes or even hours. Like a computer trying to process too much so it just stops altogether. I have no doubt something or someone would be dead if it weren’t for my amazingly supportive and patient wife.
She is the only thing that held me together and I am beyond grateful. There is nothing I could ever do to repay her and the thing is…this isn’t the first time she has done this for me. I doubt it will be the last too. She has always been there for me; to protect me from even myself. She is so perfect and I have no idea what I ever did to get so lucky that she would love me.
I don’t think anyone really knows just how much she does for me. You all see me when I’m put together, collected. She’s with me at every moment: the ones where my anger overcomes me and I throw things or try hurting myself or others, the ones where I curl up and beg that she won’t hurt me because I’m having a flashback and think she’s someone else, when she holds me and tries to logically explain away my paranoia or delusion, and let’s not forget the ones where I argue and get angry at her just for my brain to realize a couple hours later that once again, I wasn’t processing correctly and misjudged the situation.
And they’re not always such grandly terrible moments. There’s also the day-to-day instances of me constantly leaving food out, dropping or breaking things, or putting myself in danger because I couldn’t remember to turn the gas or fire on the stove off or put something in the microwave that shouldn’t be there.
Schizoaffective is not a pretty disorder; neither is PTSD. My brain creates things that aren’t there; things that frighten me and keep me on edge. Sometimes, it just decides to keep me from remembering even the smallest of things and no matter how many times I’m reminded not to do something, I’ll forget you even said anything and continue doing it.
I look nice and collected. I don’t look like that I’ll be set off with one wrong word or maybe even for no reason at all. I don’t blog because I think I’m interesting. I share these things to teach about mental illness, fight for awareness and proper research and treatment for those of us who suffer. I also hope that my recollections can offer hope to others in similar situations.
You’re not alone.
~Sahreth ‘Baphy’ Bowden