Psychosis, an insider's guide by phyrexfirestorm < Submission

Keywords male 1116456, human 100684, reference 14327, self 913, trip 669, help 652, insane 492, overdose 45, psychosis 9, self-help 6, self help 6

Psychosis, an insider's guide

Hello there. My name is Phyrex, and today, I am going to take you on a little stroll through a series of events tonight. First, though, you may require a little back-story for things to make sense.

I will start with my current medical situation. As of December 17, 2010, I became officially diagnosed with severe depression. This diagnosis was later changed to Anger Issues that had not only been aggravated by my enlistment into the U.S. Navy, but were further aggravated by my sudden discharge on the date stated earlier. Upon the time of my discharge, I was given a small prescription of medication and informed that I should get in touch with my city's Department of Veteran's Affairs, and have them get my medication requirements tended to.

Now I love my country, but when it comes to caring for those who fought for it? We are absolutely pathetic.

You see, my prescription ran dry a month after my discharge, and I had been unable to get the V.A. off their asses to get the meds I needed. I'd been run through a giant circle since 2011, and nobody seemed to know just who it was I was supposed to see, and what I was supposed to do when I found them. At least, until recently.

On August 27, 2012, I was called and notified that I could go down to my local pharmacy to pick up my meds. I'd thought to myself Fuckin' finally!, and retrieved the meds around 5pm, taking them at 10pm when I used to take them.

After my meds, I decided to fire up my monolith of a PS3 and play Skyrim, since there really isn't much for a person to do in Klamath Falls, even if you DO have some spare cash. As soon as my file had loaded, and my goal for the night had been set, I headed off to Halted Stream Camp to get a neat little spell for the ease of increasing both my monetary sum, and my skills in both smithing and speechcraft. Things went pretty good, as far as my end of the slaughter went, and I eventually located the spell tome on a bench. After snagging the tome, a bandit I had somehow overlooked had snuck up behind me, and proceeded to unleash a flurry of vicious, though ultimately useless, attacks against my turned back. I calmly entered into my favorites menu to decide how I should obliterate the little prick, and began scrolling through the listed things. After I had passed the third item (frost breath in this case), I noticed that the world was kinda fuzzy, aside from the direct spot in which I was staring. Concerned, I ordered myself to go outside to smoke (several times, to be honest), but every time the thought entered my head, my mind would blank out, and I would forget about it until I happened to look at my lighter again, when I would then remember that I needed to get up and go smoke. The cycle would then repeat. About three minutes later, I realized that I could not move my eyes, fingers, hands, or any other part of my body, regardless of how badly I wanted to move them. I couldn't even focus correctly! Then came the fun, and the reason for my writing of this document.

To clarify, please allow me to branch off for a second (I will be right back, I promise).

My medication is actually Citalopram, and my regular dose is 20mg once a day every day, roughly 3 hours before I go to bed. The pills I received are still Citalopram, but in 200mg doses. With even a double-dose (40mg), the severity and/or chance of ill side-effects increases greatly*, so you can only dream of what would happen at 200, right? Wrong, because I'm going to let you know.

Shortly after discovering that I could no longer move anything, my first thought was that I needed to inform my mother (who lives with me) that something bad was happening, and that I needed serious help. Unfortunately, I couldn't talk since I couldn’t move anything (which is abso-fucking-lutely terrifying, believe me), and so it was that I essentially "took a trip" through my  innermost mind, despite my attempts to remain grounded in the present. There are no words to describe what exactly happened to me on this adventure, but I will do my best to give you an idea.

All I could see was black, but it was lit at the same time, kinda like a solid black TV screen is, and I felt nothing except what I would suspect television static would feel like. That sensation was all over my body, and was compounded by the feeling of my body floating away while some unknown force pressed upon me from every conceivable angle. I believe that what I was actually feeling was the friction of clothing against my skin, as well as gravity keeping my skinny ass on the flippin planet, but I have no proof, so I can't prove anything. Anyways, while floating in this darkness, I calmly watched as a small, gray path appeared by me, leading off into the darkness. With nothing better to do, I decided to follow the path in hopes of leading myself free from my mind. As soon as I touched the path, my world came back, but wrong. Things were distorted, and though I could recognize each item. Everything was hyper-focused, so that whatever I looked at became ultra-clear and defined, but whenever I saw something, I would hear a small voice say "Yes, but can you prove it is real?"

Without exaggeration, I can inform you that this occurred with EVERY item I looked at, whether it was a chair, couch, or wall. Always, that little voice demanded that I prove those things actually existed. When I could not, I was pulled back into myself as if in punishment. For now, I can only explain that what I experienced was like sitting out in space while imagining the feeling of rough iron files against the inside of my teeth,  while brownish, yellow and red light shone on me from some apex I could never locate, but seemed to come at me from my right side (in front of me) and was aimed at my left side (also in front). Even though I couldn’t find the source of light, I feared it with all my heart. I suspect that what was shining the light was actually the doorway to my death, but I am not inclined to find out.

The light shone on me for a long time, draining out my conscious thoughts as well as my feelings, until I became something akin to a living shadow, and began to wander about like a toddler filled with curiosity. The next thing I remember, my sight is back again, but nothing makes sense at all. Everything I looked on only served to confuse me, and it all appeared to have been finger-painted by a two year old with Tourettes Syndrome. I kept staring at the front, bottom-left corner of the entertainment center, unable to move my eyes, but able to force myself to breathe, and all I could hear was a sound similar to "Ut", which was blaringly loud, and endlessly repetitive. However, my innermost thoughts remained untouched. I can remember thinking 'So this is what the universe was like before the big bang? Odd. The colors on my right are shaking, too. Huh. Hey, that puzzle-piece lookin thing reminds me of something. It almost looks like my- Oh fuck, those are my arms.'

As soon as I recognized that my arms were in front of me, holding my PS3 controller, most of my consciousness returned to my control, and I jerked like I'd been electrocuted. Later, I found out that I had been having a seizure, and the jerk I felt was actually the peak of that episode. Unfortunately, though my mental abilities were back, I still couldn’t control my body very well, and was still shaking uncontrollably. I remember telling my mom "Help me. You have to keep me here. I don’t care what you do, you MUST. KEEP. ME. HERE. I don't want to go back. If I do, I don’t think I will return."  My memory of immediately after that is completely gone, but it was explained to me that I began crying in an odd manner, and was screaming as loud as I could while I flailed around on the couch. Apparently, I was fighting whatever the fuck was going on in my mind, and the mental struggle translated to physical response and act. I do not, however, remember what the hell was going on at that time. After what seemed like a few decades (I can tell you with complete certainty that in the roughly hour-long span of this "trip", I had managed to live for centuries), I remember coming back to my senses in a manner not unlike a person wading through hip-deep mud. Something kept trying to pull me back again and again, and when it spoke, it was from my left side, in a voice that sounded like darkness. It kept telling me, in an increasingly agitated voice, that there was no way to win, and that I should come back with the voice. It's hard to describe what resisting that was like, but picture the one thing you want most in the world. The one thing you would go absolutely nuts for. Got it in mind? Okay. Now, that thing you want? It will kill you as soon as you get to it. THAT is what that voice was like, and it just kept repeating itself, over and over again, drilling the voice's will straight into my mind, and I was losing ground rapidly. The room was blurry as hell, except for one blue-patterned diamond on our living room rug. For some reason, that was perfectly clear, and I remember thinking 'That is real. I know what that is. That is the…don’t know. But it is real. I know it. I bought it while at the coast.'  To which the voice promptly said 'No, it is not real,' and I snapped.

For those who don’t know me, I will generally handle things with a calm, rational mind. To a point. When I reach that point, there is no gentle increase in temper, and no slide into pisstivity. I go from calm, to flat-out pissed, and there is nothing I can do to stop it (that is why I have the meds).Anyways, I snapped**.

I wound up yelling at myself in two separate voices***, neither of which were anything close to my normal voice. I have no memory of what was said, save near the end, when my mom said she wanted me to stay  there (in reality), where I replied "I have no intention of going back. It can try all it wants, and I will fight it with every fiber of my being.", which was said with a tone similar to both an unstable man, as well as a very livid individual. While this is normally something to be concerned with, the situation was made worse by the fact that I apparently had wild eyes, bared teeth, and proceeded to snarl at no visible object for a time. Eventually, I managed to bring myself back to relative control, and was instructed to strip to my underwear and climb into the tub. Upon my doing so, clarity returned, but I couldn’t stop speaking in a Proper English accent. Mom was freaking out and trying to have me show her how to use my smartphone. It was an act that failed miserably, since I kept talking like a friggin Macintosh computer, and would occasionally either annihilate the word I was trying to say, or would revert back to Naval terms. Eventually, she managed to get the neighbor to come in for assistance, since he knows a good deal more about things of this nature than any of us do, and he came into the bathroom to help talk with me and keep me rooted in reality. In time, I was deemed capable of holding a cup to drink from, and was later capable of drying off, changing clothes, and going out to smoke a cigarette to kill the rest of what was in my system. While outside, we discussed what had happened, wherein I was informed that I had beat the shit out of my mother (only on her arms and torso) when she tried to keep me still and prevent me from collapsing onto the floor. I was also informed  of what things had looked like from my mother's point of view, as well as the steps she had taken to assist me, which have been noted earlier and throughout this document.

Before I go, there are bound to be some of you out there that are asking why I would write something like this. The only answer I have for you is "How could I not?" By sharing this information, someone may be able to identify something that is happening to them, and be able to counter the effects of whatever may have them.

In these situations, what you can do for the victim is as follows:

Keep speaking to them. I don’t care if you are reading a goddamned encyclopedia on gnat anatomy, you do NOT stop talking to them. A familiar voice will help ground that person.

Get them into a cool bath. DO NOT use a shower, unless you have  no other option. In that case, situate the victim so that the spray hits their feet/legs, and cools them off. Also, do not use very cold water. room-temperature water is fine, but if the water is too cold, they may go into hypothermia before reality returns to them, and then you have another crisis on your hands.

Unless the person is in danger of injury, or they become a threat to something/someone, DO NOT TOUCH THEM! There is a popular theory that moving anybody "on a trip" will cause them to lose their way back. I don’t know if it is true or not, and I am not going to test it for you. I advise you not to touch them, though, because the less physical input they receive, the better off they are. Touching them, or trying to contain them by force may actually trigger aggressive tendencies (like mine), and the situation may become violent. If the situation has already become violent, you may be forced to incapacitate said victim. DO NOT strike their head. This isn't a movie, and you may concuss or kill the person. Instead, you could try applying a sudden force to the back of the victims knees (suck as a kick to the back of the knee), and using as much force as possible to keep the victim on the ground, and unharmed. If you have little space for things like that, try to get the victim onto a chair or couch, and then keep them there until you can put them in a cold bath.

If the victim is a smoker, and they can hold conversation with you (they are at least halfway back to reality), GIVE THEM A CIGARETTE. Not a pipe, not a big cigar, just a cigarette (or one of those cigarettes that says "cigars" on the container, such as Dean's, Captain Black, Winchester, Santa Fe, etc.) Stay with the person, and monitor them closely. Maintain a conversation about simple things, like weather and such. If necessary, you may have to hold the smokeable for them, as they are not steady enough to do so, or lack the capability of coordinating such a feat. The nicotine in the cigarette/mini-cigar usually helps flush  things out of their system. Also, have the victim take nice, deep breaths at a relaxed pace. This gets air into their bloodstream, but not at a rate that would induce light-headedness. When they show signs of improvement, you will be able to relax, since they should be fine from that point forward.

Lastly, if the victim has showed signs or indications of a seizure or trembling fit, give them something sweet as soon as possible. Their body will latch onto the source of sweetness like a babe to a teat, and it will assist in beating back the effects of whatever they are going through.

So that, my friends, is what it is like to go through psychosis. It's not a pretty thing, for sure, and this document will likely not make any sense whatsoever, but I did my best to describe it as accurately as I could. And if someone benefits from the knowledge I have shared here, then I know that this has done its job.

As always, thank you for taking the time to read this. After all, fate has no quota for suffering, and it could easily be you who is being treated for something like this.

Much love,

-Phyrex-

_____________________________________________________________________________________

* The list of side effects is viewable at http://allsideeffects.net/citalopram-side-effects/ Specifically, the effects I encountered the most are vivid dreams, schizophrenia, psychosis, trembling, seizure, vision changes, eye pain, aggressiveness, paroniria, manic episodes, apnea (not breathing),  hallucinations, and damned near death.

**  During this time, I was also informed to "move my arms and slap myself". My mother's intent was for me to slap my torso, but not hard enough to hurt. My understanding of her words lead me to slap my face as hard as possible. She corrected me after my second slap.

*** For reference, see Gollum, from The Lord of the Rings. By my understanding, The Voice (I assume it's my dark side) was holding a serious diatribe with my normal self, and I was split-personality pissed. The tone of my voice was similar to any other human who has been pushed into a very dark corner, and is fighting with all of their very soul to get back to what they had before.

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