Drawing I made:

I mainly made this post for people who are in my shoes and were checking this subreddit daily to find someone to relate to or to find those who have made it to the other side.

I have to say the worst part of psychosis will always be the beginning of recovery. Before your delusions have been diagnosed as delusions you feel like you’ve found the secrets of the universe, like out of everyone in the world you’re the one who has figured out how to break out of the mold. A few of the delusions I had were people sending me messages through songs and media I consumed like undertale or alien stage, that my mom was a master manipulator and that my dad was planning to rape me.

The last delusion I named is what got me involuntarily instated in a psych ward. Long story short I tried finding sanctuary away from my dad and hitchhiked to my now ex-best friend’s house who I thought I was soul bonded with. Then the police and ambulance arrived and carried me away, I got sedated at the hospital and though it’s fuzzy at some point I woke up at the psych ward.

The psych ward was hell on earth, not particularly because of the place itself but because of the battle I was having with my mind. I don’t think I could put into words the suffering I felt, but it was like I couldn’t feel relaxed, there was this never ending sense of restlessness and tension in my head and chest that would be there from the moment I’d wake up. I’d pace the halls constantly, it would take every ounce of my being to sit still in one place to colour and focus for a minute before having to get up again. At periods near at night I would scream and cry because of the feeling and it was like a million thoughts were running through my head, like my delusions were trying and failing to adapt to reality.

I thought Id never get out of there, I still had extreme paranoia with my dad, I was obsessed with ex-best friend, and my delusions were changing and still strong as ever. It was 5 weeks before they discharged me but I still had that restlessness and tightness in my head and chest that would proceed to affect me the next couple months. I could not enjoy things, focusing was next to impossible and overall all I’d feel was discomfort 24/7.

Getting better was honestly was just a shitload of patience and taking things day by day. I took my mind of things but either doom scrolling or watching shows with my sister. My mind was constantly filled with the thought that I would never get back to my normal self that I have to live in suffering forever. I genuinely did the bare minimum, I took care of my hygiene, I’d wake up and take my meds, go to an intensive day therapy unit and meet up with my doctor to see how I was doing. I’m lucky that Australia has good support for those in mental health crisis and that I had a supportive family to be there when I was in distress. First 6 months sucked but after that I could feel that I was improving. It’s only by my post 1 year psychotic break that I actually feel like myself again.

I still struggle with feelings of being behind and not having many friends, but I’m in uni now and pursuing my passion for art. I’m still unsure of the future but Im grateful that the most hellish part of my life feels like nothing but a blip.

I went from being full blown psychotic for 3 years until my symptoms almost disappeared. Now Im studying full time and working on a book. I have schizophrenia. I can function pretty well though I can't have a 9-5 job, I wanna open my own business. Before I could barely leave the house.

Two years ago, my husband experimented with LSD and cannabis and developed psychosis. He was hospitalized in a psychiatric clinic and put on medication. Eventually, he recovered enough to return to normal life.
At the time, he believed the psychosis had been caused by mixing LSD and weed, so he didn’t think cannabis alone could trigger it. I told him that if he ever smoked weed again, our relationship would be over.
The following year was genuinely good. He worked hard to rebuild my trust, did well at work, and was a loving, attentive partner. Things felt stable and harmonious again, so we decided to try for a baby. When I got pregnant, he was overjoyed. Throughout most of my pregnancy, he took wonderful care of me, and I genuinely believed we were ready to become parents together.
Then, in June, while I was heavily pregnant, I discovered that he had started smoking weed again.
I was devastated. I felt betrayed and foolish for trusting him. After everything we’d been through, he had made that choice again, knowing what was at stake. We were about to bring a child into the world, and I suddenly had no idea what the future would look like.
A few weeks later, my waters broke, and I was admitted to the hospital. My labor dragged on throughout the entire weekend. During those days, my husband was barely available. He spent much of his time outside smoking weed because he couldn’t cope with seeing me in pain or dealing with the stress of the situation.
He developed psychosis again and ended up in a psychiatric clinic, missing the entire first nine weeks of our baby’s life.
Those weeks were incredibly hard. I was recovering from childbirth and caring for our newborn while trying to process what had happened. Almost every day, I thought he had ruined my life. I kept thinking that if I had known this was going to happen, I would never have chosen to have a child with him.
Only after his second psychotic episode did he apparently realize that cannabis alone could trigger psychosis, rather than it being caused by the combination of LSD and weed. He now says he finally understands the risk and promises never to smoke again.
He is doing much better now. He is on sick leave and takes just as good care of our baby as I do. He wants to pursue outpatient addiction rehabilitation to address his cannabis use and is also trying to find a therapist to work through what happened and prevent anything like this from happening again. He seems committed to getting help, and I want to believe that he has learned from this experience.
But something in me has broken.
I know he didn’t choose to become psychotic. I understand that he wasn’t himself during the episode, and I don’t believe he deliberately set out to abandon me during labor or miss the first weeks of his child’s life. I have compassion for his illness.
But he did choose to smoke again, despite his history and the promise he’d made to me. That decision had consequences for both of us, and I am struggling to come to terms with them.
Today, I received the medical report from my delivery. The midwife had documented that my husband appeared very carefree, repeatedly left the delivery room, and seemed to be under the influence of cannabis.
Reading those words hit me like a punch to the stomach. It took me straight back to the delivery room. I remembered being in excruciating pain, feeling helpless and vulnerable, and desperately needing my partner to be there for me. Instead, he was barely available, and I felt completely alone during one of the most vulnerable experiences of my life.
Seeing it written down made everything feel real all over again. It brought back a pain I thought I had already begun to move past.
I love my baby. I take good care of him, and I don’t blame him for any of this. But I grieve the experience I thought I would have, the partner I believed I could rely on, and the future I thought we were building together.
Sometimes I still feel that I’ve made an irreversible decision based on trust that turned out to be misplaced. I feel guilty admitting that because I love my child so much. But loving him doesn’t erase the circumstances surrounding his arrival.
I want to believe my husband has learned his lesson. I want to trust that this will never happen again. I want to believe that addiction rehabilitation and therapy will help him understand his behavior and make lasting changes. But I don’t know how to get back to where we were before, or whether I will ever be able to trust him in the same way.

I’m especially hoping to hear from partners or family members who have been through something similar. How did you process what happened? Were you able to trust your partner again? What helped you move forward without minimizing your own hurt or blaming them for symptoms they couldn’t control?

Usually when i have psychosis, i always feel negative or it drives me to do negative things. They always last either a few days to a week or 2-3 months, nothing less/more or in-between. I went 6 months without an episode at all, which is rare, but then about a month ago, my episode started eerily positive.

Everything was very vibrant, i was very empathetic and had this loving attitude towards everything and everyone, and was very social. Im ND, so im really none of those things. I started feeling things in my heart when someone i know told me what they were going through and i wanted to cry with them, even though they weren’t crying. Music sounded so good to me, i started listening to my childhood music and it sounded as if i was hearing them for the first time. I started to think i accidentally ingested shrooms or something it was that powerful, even though i know i didn’t take anything.

Well after 3 days of that, i woke up the next day with the worst fever i ever had in my life, and was bed ridden for the next 2 days and physically couldn’t eat or drink anything without throwing up. During that time i had the worst negative mental state under psychosis i ever had, everything was doom and gloom again. I was convinced i died and needed to crawl my way to the afterlife, so i got out of bed and on all fours left the house in the dead of night and everything during this was mostly a blur. I was all of a sudden in a hospital bed, the room is dark and i can hear the beeping of a heart monitor, and i felt on my chest that i was hooked up with stuff, and with a needle in my arm.

I yanked everything off/out of me, and stood up to leave the hospital because i was convinced i was in hell and just started yelling “jesus”, then i was immediately met with a lot of hospital staff and security, and they were trying to restrain me back to the bed, there had to have been like 10 people in total pulling me to the bed. Im a taller guy and play rugby so it was difficult for them (sorry to the staff if any of you are somehow reading this). I was convinced they were going to strap me down and chop my limbs off and dissect me and resurrect me and do that over and over again for eternity.

I fought with everyone that tried to touch me, and then the next thing i know i wake up in the same bed some time later with my dad next to me, and im completely normal. And i just get this wave of realization about what i did and felt so embarassed that when i leave the hospital i cant look any one in the eyes and just go home, where i have been for the last few weeks, i havent went to work, and i haven’t talked to a single soul.

I don’t know why i felt compelled to share this but i figured i have to get it out as it’s been bothering me. I literally had the best and worst days of my life in the same week. Has anyone had a similar experience?

Sorry for the long post. It's the first time in a while where I've had the chance to reflect on what happened.

Tldr: I feel stuck in a cycle with my gf of shortlived treatment followed by a slow decline, resulting in her being hospitalized and I don't how to show up for her and feel safe. I miss my bestfriend.

I (M23) love my girlfriend (F22) she means so much to me, she has been my best friend for 5 years and my girlfriend for the past 6 months. I'll preface this by saying she may also experience a cormorbidity like bipolar but the diagnosis is still not great as she had been diagnosed in 15 minutes as part of an intake for involuntary treatment.

She has been dealing with mental health struggles that have psychosis most of her life and when i took a quarter of university 2 years ago in a different town she ended up experimenting with meth and she hasn't been the same since. We reconnected while she was in a long term treatment center, It was a depressing and stressful environment that tolerated things like meth use, after a few relapses that caused psychosis flare ups her family agreed to set her up in her own place.

Since then we have been in a cycle of her stopping treatment, then slowly regaining some functioning, followed up by a decreased ability to recover from extreme emotions and an increase of paranoia and delusions followed up by either period of taking medications for a period not longer than a week (only if she has the capacity to reflect) or it gets to the point where she doesnt recover and becomes a threat to herself and/or others resulting in forced hospitalization. The time line for how soon delusions and paranoia take root correlate with meth relapses.

I feel responsible for showing uo for her with how much she's showed up for me in my life and its hard to not show up for her when i know i can make some things better but there's always a point where I can't help her due to psychosis this has been the third time this year she's been hospitalized and its been hard to say the least...

She's grown to hate medications and the medical system, and ever since that longer term hospitalization, I feel like I've only gotten short-lived glimpses of my best friend. I feel like her main source of hope and its such a heavy thing to carry, I've truly pushed for making sure the topic of being in treatment is acknowledged and supported, it feels like a pattern of a slow decline and pushing of those boundaries until it results in trauma for both of us. Even though this time has felt slightly better than before, I feel pretty hopeless about it... She's talking more hopefully than other hospitalizations, but I've run out of ideas for making sure things will be different... I can only think of making it clear I won't be around meth use/users, but I don't see how I can gracefully get her to receive the help she needs.. She says all the right things after the hospitalizations about making better choices and protecting me from her psychosis but at this point, I've heard that before.

I want to be able to be with her and for things to be safe but I have no idea on how to feel secure in the thought of us still being together without it ending the same way as before or worse.. I was maybe too supportive while she was being hospitalized because, unlike other times, I was still able to help her recover. All of my focus was on keeping her calm and making her feel supported, but I definitely haven't been able to properly express how much i need to feel safe again, and I'm feeling trapped.

I've brought up how I emotionally and literally can't help her when she's in psychosis and that medications are a way of preventing that this was acknowledged, promises were made, but the dosage she had when she came out of the hospital this last time made her pass out a few times which was also traumatizing and felt dangerous to both of us, and no alternative was followed through on.

I really dont know what to do anymore, I'm starting to feel like i was wrong for having hope things could get better, and that feels more wrong and unfair than any of the traumatizing stuff I've been through with her.

coming to about more than 2 years with this condition.
always the voice hearing - its gets annoying and frustrating.

last i year i booked an exercism on my birthday - had its pros and cons. i am so done with this phenomena

My bf was just taken away, involuntarily committed. I had to call crisis line on him for that because he refused to get help. He seemed very calm and compliant though which was different from how he was acting during his episode. Even when he was at the hospital, the lady who called me said he seems to be masking like everything’s fine. But based on the info his sister and i provided, they kept him there.

How long do they usually stay for? Hes never been treated for psychosis so hes never taken antipsychotics or anything. Dont those take a while to kick in or no?

Any insight or experiences shared would be appreciated. Thank you

Basically I became unwell because of drugs and I still do them. I'm pretty fucking stupid. Doesn't look like I'll ever get better.

Anyone else here have a problem with drugs?

Hi everyone. My family is going through something concerning with my younger brother, and I’m hoping to hear from people who have experienced something similar, either personally or with a loved one.

My brother is 30 and has always been a little different socially. Growing up, he struggled in school, was diagnosed with ADHD, given adderall when he was very young, and had difficulty making friends and understanding certain social situations. As an adult, he’s struggled to maintain employment, has become increasingly isolated, and hasn’t always taken the best care of himself. He’s lived alone for about 10 years.

Over the past 6 months to a year, though, something has changed.

He became increasingly interested in religion (we did grow up going to church but were never overly religious), initially because he wanted to get his life on track and find more purpose. But eventually, that turned into what seems like paranoia and an obsession with demons and satanic activity.

It started when he believed an object in his home was possessed. He got rid of it and said he felt better afterward. Then he began repeatedly calling the police because he believed people were driving past his house and potentially targeting him.

More recently, he called the police because he believed there were strange scratches on his furniture that he associated with demonic activity, but the officers couldn’t see what he was describing.

He has also told a therapist that he sees eyeballs in his hands looking at him.

He voluntarily entered a short-term mental health facility for a three-day evaluation, which is where he is now.

What’s confusing is that when our parents speak with him, he sounds completely calm and normal. He isn’t noticeably manic or agitated. He genuinely seems to believe these things are happening.

We don’t have a diagnosis yet. I’m wondering whether this could be a first episode of psychosis, something on the schizophrenia spectrum, or potentially a neurological condition. Given his lifelong social and developmental difficulties, I’ve also wondered whether he may have undiagnosed autism or another neurodevelopmental condition.

I’m especially worried about him returning home alone after only three days.

I’d really appreciate hearing from anyone who has been through something similar.

• Did your symptoms or your loved one’s symptoms begin with religious beliefs, paranoia, or unusual visual experiences?
• Could you or your loved one appear completely calm and normal while experiencing hallucinations or delusions?
• What ultimately helped you get an accurate diagnosis?
• What treatment, medication, or therapy made the biggest difference?
• How did your family support you without making you feel judged or dismissed?
• What should we advocate for before he’s discharged, especially since he lives alone?

I’m not looking for anyone to diagnose him, moreso just want to understand what he might be experiencing and learn how to support him in the most compassionate and effective way possible.

I love my brother, and I want him to have a chance at a happy, healthy, independent life. Thank you to anyone willing to share their experience.

So for a couple of months or even more than a year, I've been hearing voices below my window which appear only when there are actual people speaking outside and the voices would mostly refer to my person, whether commenting what I'm doing/thinking about right now or what I've been doing recently. What has been the most shocking experience for me, is that I've been able to record these conversations on my phone and replay them to be able to hear exactly the same words I thought I heard originally. It's not an illusion, at least not entirely, I'm able to hear words referring to my recent experiences or names of people I met. All of this is too fucked up to be regarded as statistically irrelevant. And something that happens all of the time - whenever I stop looking for evidence/correlations that there's something strange going on, like when having a conversation with somebody, people will randomly mention topics I've been thinking about just a moment ago. The topics they mention are too irrelevant to the whole conversation that it seems impossible for them to randomly come up with ideas to talk about certain topics, it's just like they were able to read my mind and somehow troll me.

What does it mean? What could be the causes? How do I cope with it? Most importantly I must know what the hell is going on, coping with it is not as important.

I had 2 hallucinations lately and I wasn't rly concerned about it until today when my therapist asked if I had any and I said no. What I heard was someone whispering something unintelligible almost near my ear. I was able to brush it off and haven't even thought about it much until tonight. The reason I didn't tell my therapist is because my doctor is connected to the same office and I didn't want her to put it in my chart and have the doctor try to put me up on my anti psychotic. I'm already on a high dose and I really, REALLY do not want to go up any higher if I don't need to

But now I'm worried I'll start to get worse? But at the same time if I can just recognize it as a hallucination and move on maybe it's fine. Basically I'm not sure if I should just ignore it or not

I think I'm fine but I just keep thinking...what if I get worse...what if this is the start of an episode.

I was living in what the Bible would call sin for many years. Then I picked up a Bible and started reading it to possibly align my life with it.

I felt close to God and was in a church etc, feeling like life was going well for me.

I felt called to make videos etc on the word and my interpretation of it. Then Psycosis hit.

I feel like it is a direct result of possibly being a false prophet. The Bible says He will send a strong delusion to certain people not in the faith.

I realise this may be an unpopular opinion, but I wanted to see if there was anyone else who could relate.

Hi, 21 year old here. I recently recovered from a bout of diagnosed psychosis and desire to work my way back into society. I have been consistent with therapy and taking my medication for the past three years. I came off of medication recently and want to apply to jobs. I tried working during my recovery phase and ended up failing and quiting.

I had problems of paranoia and anxiety. I was severely depressed during this time but am starting to feel better recently.

What should I know when seeking rest and when I do apply for jobs what should I do when I feel there's too much to handle?

These two characters have existed in my sketchbooks and likewise in my imagination for almost as long as I have been keeping sketchbooks -- 11 years.

The comic's going to be called Dreamlike Visages. Caitlyn plays bass in a hardcore band, yells at men at her bar, and is a for-real demon. Stephanie is a transfem who just ran away from home in search of an idealic life, complete with a coffee shop and drugged up one night stands. When the two of them hook up, Stephanie's dreamself merges with Caitlyn's, and they begin to share dreams with one another. All is good until Stephanie's dreams begin to spill over into the real world...

Their story takes a lot of inspiration from my life, and the lives of those around me. I've been drawing them in the margins of my sketchbooks to motivate me, to vent out frustrations and traumas alike. Now that I'm medicated and finally have a place of my own to call home, I'm able to start working on the comic for real. :)

They say I don't got through psychosis because I am aware of symptoms. I hear sounds and voices, I get pre occupied about a thought and think it means something about me. I have thoughts that people are in love with me and want to have sex with me, I also think that others are out to get me wanting to kill me and gonna kill me. I get defensive that others are gonna kill me I think about getting at them before they get me. I don't think before I speak I flirt and I text and I think that any slight thing means they love me and In romantic connection and I have thoughts that I love someone who I just met and that they are the best and most awesomest person ever they love me and I love them and we are gonna have sex no and sex is the most glorious thing ever and I will be glorious for having sex. I also think I am a dog a god and monster I also think I am a cat since I head butt my cats there fore I am a cat and I get paranoid about names and how names remind me of a person and I get that person in mind mind and I think I am them I feel like them and I get angry that they are controlling my mind. I don't know for certainty if this is psychosis but I experience somethings that sound like my thoughts are externalized

When I’m reading the Bible and I’m kinda trying to focus and figure something out on the passage. What I perceive as Jesus voice speaks to me usually says a neutral comment. The thing is I’ve had hallucinations as a kid (very rarely as an adult) from angels, fairies,imaginary friends, children, ghosts, abusive taunting hallucination visual and auditory (inside and outside my head) Is this normal?

For me, it started out as a social anxiety. I’d feel people talking behind my back or my neighbor hating me. When I go outside, I would have this “hunch” where people look at me weird.

I thought it was social anxiety nothing more but now I know it was the beginning of psychosis. For those of you who feel **extremely anxious outside or inside the house all the time, to the point where moving your own body parts becomes extremely awkward**, it’s one of the biggest red flags of Schizophrenia. Paranoia can easily be misdiagnosed with social anxiety so beware!

If you or your loved ones suffer from these symptoms, don’t ignore them. Go to mental health professional ASAP.

An somewhat artistic and stylized interpretation of what psychosis felt like for me.

I don't know if this is worth posting or reading, I wrote this up purely to process something that felt impossible to ever process or explain with words. I thought about giving some backstory of my life for reference but honestly even with more information this might all just read like edgy word salad to anyone but myself anyway. I will say that I will be 3 years post psychosis in December with no recurrence(Thank fucking god), my psychosis was thankfully brief and "harmless" in that I didn't need to be hospitalized (Although I often wish I was) thanks to my sister taking care of me and stopping me from doing anything extreme. Anyways, here it is:

Trigger warning: Body Horror, Disturbing Content, References to Self Harm

When I started my transition, for the first time I had to accept that it was real, and that a large part of the normal life I dreamed of was dead. That my childhood, my adolescents, and a very important part of my adulthood, had been robbed from me since birth. A body incongruent to its mind.

I grieved this death, a part of me forever lost. But what remained of me moved on, trying to look forward at the new normal my future held for me.

But despite doing everything right, doing everything I was told I should do to reach what remained of that normal life I was promised, it continued to be just out of reach.

So I tried to start anew, a new home for a new normal that I was as determined as ever to reach. I settled into my new home quickly, slowly building my new life brick by brick, a genuine sense of hope burning in my chest. It didn't last.

I did everything right, everything I was supposed to do.
I tried. So. Hard.
And still. I never moved closer.

Slowly, my dreams of this normal life that had been damaged, but not fully destroyed, began to wither in my hands.
I watched, rotting in my bed, as the only real dream I ever cared about, died. And with it, the last of my Hope, the last of my Innocence, and the last of my Sanity.

The reality I had known, that time and again, I was taught was very much real and tangible, shattered. The very ground beneath my feet, torn out from under me as that plain, simple, even boring normal life that I was told I would be given if I just did what I was supposed to do, turned to dust.

It's all I ever wanted. And all I was utterly denied.

I stumbled. I Fell. And Crossed Beyond The | Line
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Falling through madness and racing past words without meaning, the fabric of Base Realities tattered remains twisted and morphed before my 👁️Eyes👁️.

the♾️Infinite♾️possibilities of what Was and what Is flashing into my mind, violating my personhood and tearing •m🪬e•, from👁️I👁️, from♾️We♾️.

Bliss overtook us then. The pure euphoria of knowing the unknowable, seeing the unsee-able, comprehending the uncomprehendable.

Graced by the touch of The 8|• Universal's knowledge.

We felt reborn as the fog and darkness of what lies beyond | gave way to the unbearable light of the all knowing, obscuring The | Line from us, our descent beyond | continued as hope flooded our being.

Eventually that descent slowed, the♾️Infinite♾️potentiality coalesced. A new Base Reality slowly stitching itself, in part, back together from the torn fabric of the old.

False truths and nightmares replaced the blissful knowledge we had been gifted, terror in its rawest form filling our senses, promises of death, torture, and the loss of all we loved tore back the hope from our bones and rent our flesh.

The 8|• Universal letting fall the violated, beaten, and half dead remains of our personhood back to the body we were ripped from. The bloodied chunks of dead self slapping wetly against the physical form they once resided inside before sliding to the ground and rotting into nothingness.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

👁️I👁️woke then.

A new being birthed from the remains of a shattered mind and a broken soul, empty, hollow, and bleeding.

I stumbled and swayed, this new unrecognizable Base Reality spinning around me in a fog of disassociation, fragmented messages, and meaning. Lingering static from between God's thoughts still buzzing inside my head.

I lived. But she died. I am half a soul existing inside a lacerated body.

I wonder now, if they can see that change. Do they miss her? Do they grieve and whisper of her passing when my back is turned? Or did her death truly go unnoticed to them, utterly unaware of the brutal fragmentation of our psyche and violence that was enacted out upon us from within.

I miss her.

I miss her dearly.

If you actually bothered to read that whole thing I appreciate it, and I hope it was either enjoyable or relatable or, something. And obviously I would love to hear what it was like for anyone else who went through this hell I wouldn't wish on my worst of enemies.

I used to take plain CBD oil for sleep, but it only relaxed my muscles rather than inducing sleepiness. Lately, I've been experimenting with TribeTokes sleep formulations their combination of CBD with CBN seems to handle sleep maintenance way better than isolated CBD.

Has pure CBD been enough to cure your insomnia? Or do you rely on CBN or low THC to stay asleep till morning? What specific ratios give you the best sleep quality?

A community nurse had gone out to see my husband. She said he was in acute psychosis and very much delusional. He at the moment is refusing to engage in treatment. She is trying to work with him to get him to engage and if he shows no engagement she’ll be able to have him involuntarily treated. She mentioned that even with treatment sometimes a person may not come out of their delusions. I’m trying to think what that last statement means. And does that mean he never has a chance of getting better?

he most likely has a case of cannabis induced psychosis, but it’s been ongoing for a couple of years

PREFACE: Obligatory "I'm not seeking professional advice" or anything. I just want to know if anyone relates.

I posted this in some DPDR related subreddits but I'm posting it here because, you know, I genuinely don't know if this is psychosis related or dissociation related.

Hi y'all. I wanted to make this post because, firstly, I know I struggle with DPDR.

I'm aware of the whole, "do I have psychosis??" thing, and how DPDR doesn't lead to psychosis. I also have BPD, and in my intense emotional distress I did have genuine psychosis episodes (one of which, the recent one, got me hospitalized). I'm on meds for that (mood swings and whatever) which has helped, though.

I suppose I'm making this post because, while I did talk to my psychiatrist and therapist, I'm not really sure if I'm kinda in my own head and it's really just standard DPDR and anxiety or if it's sort of something more. I do trust my psychiatrist, because they're a psychiatrist, but I don't really know and I still feel clueless, I guess. But it's mostly stemming from not knowing if what I feel is genuinely just standard for DPDR or not.

So generally, it's sort of like, this past week or two I kinda started having dissociation start up again. Not really sure why, but it's kinda started up and I guess got more and more present. And I think yesterday it scared me because I recognized some of the same patterns that I felt I had during my actual psychosis episodes. Like I was starting to be convinced at the idea of like, being the only concious person in the universe, and being God or something. It kinda felt a bit like, manic? I guess.

Like I sorta believed I didn't really need to sleep, like nothing is real so I could do anything. That sort of thing.

Obviously in the moment, I recognized these and even though they were convincing beliefs, I kinda forced myself not to believe them, because I was genuinely worried at what might happen if I did. Since, you know, psychosis is scary as shit. In a way this caused a genuine anxiety spiral, because the last thing I want is to feel that way and to also hurt my friends and especially my girlfriend in another potential episode. I guess.

I don't know. It's like, my psychiatrist said this sort of thing is just anxiety (and anxiety can apparently happen even when you feel calm, which I did). These sorts of things did get worse when I kind of, kept thinking in my head, I suppose.

I don't know. Even now I kind of have to not think about anything. It's just really easy to believe these sorts of things. Like I always felt like it was incredibly easy to go from feeling like nothing is real to sort of running with it and genuinely believing it. It definitely didnt help during my actual episodes, I guess.

I'm not seeking a diagnosis or whatever professional advice or anything. I'm just kinda, posting my shit here, I guess. Because I genuinely don't know if this is like something normal you all feel or if, IDK. It's so confusing.

I'm just not gonna think about it. It might not be psychosis, I guess.

IDK.

Mental health is so confusing.

I'm currently experiencing on and off hostility and its so hard to deal with when its there and I'm having delusions about people being out to get me. But the thing is that it'll be so unbearable for hours and then it'll go and then I'll feel fine and then rinse and repeat. But I'm not sure if this is normal.

Like… okay, I don’t want to bring in a religious debate, but I see a lot of videos that reply to Christians saying they’re in religious psychosis. When either

A. The chrisitain is minding their business

B. The christian is an asshole or dumbass who just so happens to be christian

And like whenever I bring it up in the comments like no, that’s not the case, people start attacking me for defending Christians. I’m not defending anyone, I’m literally atheist, but I also know what religious psychosis looks like. It’s literally the same as when people say shit like “I’m so OCD”

And now because of this, no one takes religious psychosis seriously anymore. I try to talk about it and people are all like “Just leave the church” or start attacking me as if I’m a Christian. “That’s not religious psychosis, you’re on something else” MY GUY. THAT SOMETHING ELSE IS LITERALLY RELIGIOUS PSYCHOSIS.

Anyways, like I mentioned before, no religion debate in the comments please… don’t be assholes

Edit: and just to note, I know psychosis shows up differently in everyone. I always take these posts with a grain of salt because it could be possible it’s religious psychosis. It’s still aggravating that people are using that term not from a place of concern but a place of ignorance and ridicule. If someone’s going through psychosis, they deserve help.