Wednesday, April 27, 2011

My brand of crazy.

In my first entry of this piece of crap, I went into detail about how my disorder came to surface. However, I never explicitly said what disorder I have.

When I was around 15, I was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. When I tell people this, they often jump to the conclusion that I am schizophrenic...and in a way they are correct in that assumption. Most people have never even heard of this disorder, I know I didn't until I had been diagnosed.

I tend to believe in things like fate and burning sage to heal ailments. One of my most commonly used phrases is "I lost my train of thought." I'm nowhere near introverted, so I kind of dodged a bullet there, but I do have the tendency to become extremely paranoid about others' intentions (something that is very much associated with my disorder). I think that everyone whose ever met me can agree I fit into the last one.

Most of my symptoms aren't bad at all. I've found a nice balance between batshit crazy and having a social life. The general public still thinks I'm weird but these days more and more people seem to think I'm "quirky" or "eccentric"...and that's pretty cool. Having schizotypal disorder sometimes means the concept of matching clothes is lost on me, but dressing vaguely punk or hipsterish means people don't really notice or alternatively comment on how "fun" I always look.

I've embraced a lot of the facets of my disorder in the past couple years. Doing so reminds me that people don't necessarily think the way I do and I need to look at things from different angles if I want to truly understand and connect with them. I actually, for the most part, love having this disorder. It's kind of become my excuse to "not give a fuck" and I'm over 9000 times happier.

The only part I really, absolutely cannot stand is having an "episode". Maybe someone says something a little off-kilter, maybe someone does something strange, maybe I simply have a random thought...whatever the case, there are a few things that can trigger said episodes. What typically happens is I withdraw from the normal world because I am convinced it's not real and neither am I. I'll run on auto-pilot if I'm in a situation where I really can't escape but most of the time I'll just spend a lot of time alone trying to snap myself back to reality.

 It is the worst thing I have ever felt. You're not angry, sad, hungry, happy, anything like that. You're just scared. Scared and numb. On some occasions I'll become convinced I'm really a ghost haunting my own memories. The last big episode I had lasted about a week, I was literally afraid it was going to last forever. It was one of the only times I've seriously contemplated killing myself.

It should be noted that I rarely have significant episodes like that. I've never needed medication and if I force myself to talk about it when I feel a trigger it gives me perspective and I can easily calm down. It's really only bad during times of stress/depression and as I left my home, loved ones, and general "safety net" behind only 2 months ago, one could imagine how that may have held a large impact on my emotional stability. But hey, I pushed through it with the mindset that things would get better. And they did. I may have embraced some of these "quirks" but my disorder does not define me. I don't let anyone or anything hinder my potential as a human being, this is no different.

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