My Crazy

I'm different. Not just quirky, not just funny, but severely different. The kind of different that would get me called crazy if I weren't on meds. I'm diagnosed with delusionoid schizophrenia, erotomania, agitative depression, uneven serotonin levels, borderline personality disorder. I agree on the borderline, the depression, and the uneven serotonin, but I disagree on the schizophrenia and erotomania. If I have erotomania, then every girl that's sexting does too. I know the ones I yell at aren't there. They're in my past and I regret what I didn't get to say to them.

The pain that led to my crazy was rape, a miscarriage, emotional abuse, and physical abuse (one event led to the miscarriage).

My birth brother raped me when he was 14 and I was 11. It was for Christmas. It was the day after. He looked like a male version of me. For years, I hated my looks.

I miscarried when I was 21. My mother had punched me in the jaw. She was drunk on vodka. I would've had the child with my then boyfriend. I actually wanted his child. I saw the blood and tissue in the toilet the next time I went to the bathroom. I wasn't on my period. It didn't even smell like period.

My father was always very critical of me, particularly when I started gaining weight. He once tried to say the miscarriage was a good thing, but I cut him off. I once overheard him saying to my then life coach, "What man will look at her?" about my weight. He once predicted I'd end up a bag lady. A bag lady is a woman who has to carry all her stuff in a bag 'cause she's homeless. I have a job and am not homeless.

My mother physically abused me even before I was 18. She shoved me twice. I didn't realize she was drunk both times. I thought it was water.

I don't think these things are an excuse to stay stuck in the past. They're things to get over that happened to me.

I'm not a perfect adult. One time, when my mother pushed me, I pushed her back and she fell on the floor. I hadn't realized she'd fall. Another time, my father was pissing me off so much that I held a sharp letter opener to him. Yet another time, he pissed me off so much that I pushed him into a nearby desk chair. I'm not proud of any of these. I wish I'd always control myself, that I'd never let my anger get the best of me.

One time; I was still in high school; I threw a sharp pair of scissors at a boy. He wouldn't stop bothering me no-matter how much I asked him to. I started quiet, got to the point of yelling, then cracked and threw the scissors at him. He would've ended up in the hospital had he not ducked. Not proud of that either. He was obnoxious too.

I still have yelling bouts now. They're like explosions of my anger and resentment. I need anger management that'll stick. That's in addition to my medications.

I'm on Lexapro and Latuda. I take them daily and religiously. I don't want to mess up anymore and they help me not do so. I refuse to drink alcohol since mixing alcohol and psychotropic medication has bad side-effects.

I have gotten over two addictions: gaming and emotional eating. I now put life before gaming even when I do game. I no longer conflate mental hunger with physical hunger. I know a portion is about a quarter of an average-sized plate. I've gone from 250 pounds to 205 pounds by walking pretty much daily. I was also able to get my triglycerides to a healthy level via diet.

I do think accepting oneself at any weight is emotionally healthy. I don't think losing weight for the sake of vanity is healthy. I think losing weight for health is good.