What Was It Like to be Psychotic
It’s hard to go back now and fully surrender to the time I would rather repress and forget, but I’ve been wanting to talk about it lately.
It was brutal and unrelentingly torturous to be psychotic, begging for help, and to be trapped into such an unforgiving period of life where I couldn’t escape highest ongoing trauma.
One thing I didn’t mention in the video was the uncomfortable feelings in my head that felt like a constant icky presence I tried not to think about. It felt like a portion of my brain was malfunctioning and even painful. I was in constant discomfort that was regional in my head—I could feel it and the types of actions that made that intensify. To do the things that were specifically traumatizing to that zone of my brain was something I eventually learned to just not do. Those were specifically related to looking for my own help by calling places that felt wickedly inhumane for help and have to communicate with people working there myself. It was as if the bureaucracy of modern America became an abusive force to my brain. Each place I called for help that didn’t lead toward solutions made me feel insane—and that was everywhere.
So in response I tried to seek freedom from the childish creativity space that felt of allowance toward healing despite the constant stress. I was trying to do therapy from the inside out by not using the damaged part of my traumatized psychotic mind while achieving the same goals. I knew it impossible, and that made me insane in response. So I joked, and cried, locked in a strangest pattern of survival mechanisms that burnt every bridge in my life and made me unapproachable by all; folks wanting me to get help from the places that traumatized me by myself. It was a “penrose staircase” of psychosis and impulse control breakdowns that I eventually leaned into as a therapeutic surrender because of how that was the only route to staying upright.
Sometimes psychotic people need human help that is kind, patient, gentle, and in-person that can lead them forward to getting the help people seem to think the police would get them to.
We need to do better for people asking for help. Folks losing their minds are trapped without communal response. And the only way forward is to hit rock bottom when you are someone burning out of having financial means.
It taught me of a duality that is hard to understand: sometimes people need to apologize for themselves to feel better and begin atoning for their mistakes, even when it’s not something they should ultimately feel sorry for. Because I’m sorry to everyone for what psychosis brought out of me, but I shouldn’t have to be as well. It comes from living in a civilization that is inhumane to everyone.
