Got it when I began to uncontrollably destroy objects around me, not just for the sake of sublimation of aggression, but in order to pierce someone's head with fragments of objects. When dreams stopped dreaming, and when they dreamed, it was always about murders with me as a murderer. When I stopped being able to be calm and sleep normally. When every minute thoughts began to visit in the spirit of "kill them all." When he stopped pitying even animals and anyone in general.
you sit in the office all day
at work you only burn
in the world of meanness and falsehood
you wander home tired
all overwhelmed with nerves
in the hopelessness of gray everyday life
you are tired of this life
so come on - change you!
become a homeless person and travel
from the bench to the entrance
from the entrance to the basement
so that life plays in you
to make life in you seethe
become a homeless improvise
do what you want
get high from poverty
Hallucination, depressive thoughts, thinking outside the box. Excessive irascibility and uncontrolled aggression, going to extremes, reaching violence. Indifference. Lack of empathy
When I realized that I am in a neurotic, unhealthy relationship, in which I suffer and feel pressure, but at the same time I miss my partner and emotionally depend on him. Addiction, in short, just like drug addicts)
Depression, although not such a serious ailment, but ...
I noticed that I began to sit for a long time in an armchair or lie on the couch and stare blankly at one point, opening my mouth. This could go on for up to five to six hours. I realized the seriousness of the situation only when I noticed that I was not bored . This means that depression has returned again.
At the same time, I was not quite sure that it was depression, because in the evenings I wanted to dance and throw food against the walls.
Now, after For two or three weeks, I felt much better: stupid thoughts lagged behind, an appetite appeared, my head no longer hurt, I became freer and more energetic, grandiose plans began to be built by themselves. And the decision to leave school was somehow very easy.
It would be necessary to learn how to somehow balance between these two states in order to always stay in the golden mean, but it just doesn't work out.
With the onset of panic disorder. Before that, depression, which has been progressing since high school, seemed to me just introversion. I did not feel much discomfort, I ignored how this was already affecting my physical health.
Three days before my nineteenth birthday, uncontrollable fear came. It got to the point that my father, with whom I do not communicate very well, had to pick me up from a meeting with good acquaintances to which I had just arrived. All night I could not sleep normally, tears were pouring down like hail, I asked to call an ambulance, there was a feeling that I would now take it and jump out the window from the tenth floor. In the morning I got used to it, went home, it was quieter in the subway, especially in a crowd of people (although I was suffocating). I didn't know anything about what was happening to me, so I bought Novopassit and drank it for four days in a row. Slept 23 hours. I got up at night, walked around and just did not understand what was happening. Dereal began. I saw a familiar environment, but did not feel that it was native. It's like I'm in a 2D world. Five days later, when I went to the mental hospital for examination, everything magically ended. These five days I did not relax, even in my sleep, watching nightmares.
Over time, I forgot, but it was not a good ending to the story.
After three months, everything started anew, though now I was not so scared in my life, I roughly knew what I was facing. I lived in this state for 1.5 months and eventually went back to the dispensary, and then to the day hospital. The medicines very quickly returned life and calmness to me, but the doctor did not help in any way. I was discharged, I finished taking the medication myself and never showed up at the dispensary (after the move, he was too far from me). Since then, I have lost several bad habits and fears, but my fear of medical institutions has increased (since childhood, I fell into such panic states in hospitals, now even polyclinics cause stupor). Over time, I realized that the lost interest in my favorite things and the inability to even go to wash my hands is not laziness, but depression, and indeed there are a lot of minor problems. The frustration was gone, but there were short flashes of panic and a tendency to introduce oneself into this panic.
Since there should be a conclusion, I would like to wish everyone who comes across a person suffering from mental illness to be more sensitive. Not compassionate, but empathetic. I think that if I were not alone and take those around me seriously, it would be easier for me to deal with all this.
Probably, everyone had the feeling that when you walk past the company and they laugh, you get the feeling that they are laughing at you. Everyone imagined such a typical situation that at least once in their life, but everyone. Have you imagined it? once in 20 .. It all started in mid-2016. I started catching the glances of passers-by. At first, just catch. A little later, as I remember, I began to ponder, trying to understand why they looked at me that way (maybe I like Thoughts began to appear that people think badly of me, as if they know what kind of person I am (I don’t consider myself a good person), they know my views and what is on my mind. the person next to him pulls out his phone, he takes me on camera, or watches some video that was filmed earlier, with my participation. It seemed that when I was standing at a bus stop and the minibus stopped, all people were watching and discussing me. It seemed that all the companies laugh at me When I dealt with the military registration and enlistment office (accordingly, I went to hospitals a lot, etc.) people (l people, usually those who were sitting in lines or old ladies (they like to chat)) asked all sorts of questions about my affairs. It seemed to me that people somehow agree. And so about everything: work, study, health. the very question "How do you understand" - I realized when I started to develop depersonalization / derealization syndromes (as they explained to me later), it seemed to me that I was going crazy, I was a schizophrenic, that I was sleeping, and the whole reality was a dream. I just wake up. It seemed to me that sometimes I didn’t control myself. I first went to a psychotherapist. We talked with him for a long time, he sent me to different hospitals, and I drank a lot of different pills. It didn’t really help me, and now, literally this year, I dared to go to a psychiatrist, since the problem was not solved. Having told all my experiences like a stigma, I received the diagnosis "Sensitive idea of a relationship", as well as a prescription for risperidone, an antipsychotic drug, and some kind of antidepressant. this shit has quieted down and mentally I feel quite right dke, although sometimes it does cover, not without it. In general, some kind of story happened) I hope it was a good answer and an interesting story)
It all started at the age of 12-13, then I began to experience an inexplicable feeling of anxiety, every day I had very terrible and vivid dreams, I was afraid of every phone call, it seemed to me that someone from my environment would soon die. This state lasted six months, then stopped. Six months later, it happened again, but for only three months. I could not fit into the new teams, they did not understand me, they could not find common topics for conversation, people considered me strange.
From the age of 15 I started to have unbearable mood swings. I could not concentrate on anything, there was a quiet horror with my memory. I could cry for no reason, and in a minute I could enjoy life. It felt like I was behind glass and life was passing me by. There were thoughts of suicide, I literally felt that I was going crazy, but I could not understand what was happening. I complained to my mother, she said that I had to go in for sports and everything would go away by itself. Has taken up. It didn’t help.
Because of complexes about my nose (I have it big, with a hump), I sobbed all day, banged my head against the wall in the hope of breaking it. Then my mother signed me up to a psychiatrist, because psychologists did not help.
Mom until recently thought that I was just a teenage fixation on my shortcomings and the doctor would prescribe me sedatives. Everything turned out to be much more serious - the day before my 16th birthday I was diagnosed with "schizotypal personality disorder" or "sluggish schizophrenia." I was prescribed antidepressants, antipsychotics and antiepileptics (for concentration). Life after taking the pills has really changed for the better.
If you think that something is wrong with you, then do not be afraid to contact the specialists, they will definitely help you. And this applies not only to the psyche.
passed the tests on the Internet !!!!!
google the symptoms on the Internet, if something is wrong, go to the doctor. true, my friend went to the psychiatric hospital ... hundred-forty-forty-forty-forty-forty
I, like all schizophrenics, was blissfully ignorant to the last. Until the age of 14, they did not disclose the reason for why they take me to psychiatrists and psychotherapists. And our family secret that my grandmother had schizophrenia. I realized that I was sick only when I started taking antipsychotics, before that there was no criticism of my condition at all. The worst thing is that you will not notice how a relapse will happen to you, you will be fine.
I believe that this question was not asked out of idle curiosity and the answers may be quite useful to those who doubt.
Firstly, if you ask yourself such a question, then everything is already very good))
Secondly, to understand that something is wrong with your head, as the authors said above, is really very difficult. I managed to hold out my first depressive episode until the moment when I had not slept for the fifth day and had almost not eaten for the third day. Mentally returning to that time, I understand that this is "not so" I actually noticed very quickly, I just decided that "it will pass by itself." But it won't go away, it only gets worse. Never be afraid to go at least to a psychologist and discuss your condition if you feel that something is “wrong” with you, but you will definitely understand this, sooner or later.
Third, mental there are not so many disorders and it is not so difficult to get acquainted with the main symptoms and conduct a minimal self-diagnosis. After all, if you are reading this, then you have the Internet;)
Medicine does not stand still and now there is every chance to lead an absolutely healthy full-fledged life if treated. I regret that I did not start earlier: those few years that I just do not remember, no one will return me, and life is so cool))
Everything is the same with me. But this question is not very good. Because if I have what is classified as a "mental disorder" in the International Classification of Diseases, it does not mean that something is "wrong with me". I don’t grow horns, I don’t throw myself at others, like people with whom everything is “so”, I do not always feel bad. The ideas of what is “so” and what is “wrong” are very subjective and highly dependent on the social context, don't you agree? I realized quite early that something was "wrong" with the world around me. I was forced to go to all sorts of incomprehensible places with various incomprehensible people, children who for some reason could not just play NORMALLY. They definitely needed to push or call each other somehow. I could not understand the meaning of this in any way. What fun is it? What's wrong with these kids? Children are generally awful. Usually I liked it more among adults, but adults did not take me seriously for some reason. What was wrong with people? At the age of 9 or 10, I tried to explain to my parents that in accordance with Article 57 of the Family Code of the Russian Federation, “a child has the right to express his opinion when solving any issue in the family that affects his interests ... the opinion of a child who has reached the age of ten is obligatory. " My parents, if my memory serves me, only laughed. What was wrong with them? I can list such examples for a long time. However, many people will still think that aggression in a team is “so”. And not to listen to the opinion of the child in the family is “so”. So what? Apart from such things, as if neutral, but mostly turned into social maladjustment for me, I also had specific difficulties. For example, I had a lot of fears. I was scared to be surrounded by strangers, so I went to preparatory courses for school ... with my grandfather. I was the only one. In general, of course, it is difficult to compare with other people, especially in preschool age, but I am sure that the level of anxiety and suspiciousness I have always been higher than others. From early childhood I had problems with perseverance and attentiveness. I constantly twisted something in my hands, and often it was something else and broke, I could not concentrate on any lesson for a long time. Of course, again, it is difficult to distinguish a child with mental disabilities from an ordinary jerk, but nevertheless, by some signs it is possible, I will not focus on this for a long time now. I had many desires that were inexplicable for me then. It’s like touching something with your left hand, if you touched it with your right. Or the desire to put the mug on the table in a certain way. In general, a periodic and frequent desire to do something right (!) And / or to be symmetrical. With age, this began to cover the sphere of thoughts, obsessive thoughts appeared that had to be repeated or thought somehow "correctly."eatory excitement. I could rush around the apartment, imagining that I was traveling in the Universe or trying to understand God. And sometimes I was overwhelmed by strong melancholy and longing. Although, the first one was actually very pleasant. They dragged me to the doctors a lot, they put some kind of suction cups on my head, that is, they did an electroencephalogram of the brain, but I no longer remember what the results were and what exactly they told my parents. Due to life circumstances, I cannot clarify this. As an adult, I learned that from childhood I, most likely, manifested what doctors would call "symptoms" of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), obsessively Compulsive disorder (OCD) and bipolar disorder (BAD) with concomitant, or medically speaking, comorbid problems with sleep and anxiety. All these phenomena are not considered now in modern psychiatry as "diseases", they are considered as "disorders", that is, deviations from the average ("norm"), which can sometimes bring suffering to a person. But this does not mean that there is something "wrong" with people like me. Sometimes with all these diagnoses, you can live happily and very richly and interestingly. And I would not even call the drug correction of such conditions - treatment, for me it is just a correction. What is much more difficult for me is post-traumatic stress syndrome (PTSD) and frequent panic attacks in the past. This is also a mental disorder, but it is caused not by the peculiarities of the functioning of the brain and nervous system, but by mental trauma. Mental trauma can be very different and generally not one: the death of a loved one, a situation of violence against a person or the experience of a severe physical illness, etc., etc. All this can lead to the development of PTSD, which is often accompanied by panic attacks. It’s somehow difficult for me to describe the manifestations of PTSD. This is a life with a constant sense of danger, this is a life when you have a poor understanding of who you are, where you are and what is happening in general (dissociation), these are nightmares, this is a suppressed mood up to suicidal thoughts, this is a fear of "triggers" - what reminds of traumatic event, this is a panic attack, when for no apparent reason it starts to seem to you that you are going to die now, your heart and pressure jump to 200, and the fear is as if you are under artillery fire. I would like to note that PSTD, unfortunately, is superimposed on the peculiarities of the psyche. What previously seemed to you to be just a feature or a trifle, grows to some gigantic proportions and looks like a disease-disease. For example, sometimes obsessive thoughts, which must have been "thought out", did not allow me in the literal sense of the word to move for several hours! This is how OCD flared up due to PTSD. The first time I went to a psychiatrist was 17 years old. I can't say that it somehow helped me. As I wrote above, my main problem was PTSD, and it is treated primarily with psychotherapy, talking therapy, and not just pills. But I'm at that age justdid not know. I didn't even know what PTSD was. When my mental problems were superimposed on some of my serious physical health problems, and this led to difficulties finding a job, I fell into a very serious condition and was hospitalized several times in 2011 and 2012, in 2013 I was at the day hospital in the PND. The need for hospitalization, I think, is quite an indicator that something is "wrong." But it was still caused by stress, and not by the peculiarities of my brain. Since then I have learned to work much better with the peculiarities of my psyche and the consequences of traumatization, I began to understand more about the features of drug and conversation therapy, and which ones. drugs and what types of therapy are suitable for me personally, which is largely the result of my self-education.
I happily passed at the age of 16, not the head, but the autonomic system. I just vomited. from any food for about 2 years. The whole 9th 10th grade I spent either in the hospital or in an embrace with a basin. Research in the nutrition clinic, the Institute of Gastroenterology, and the Center for Mother and Child, where I was sent because of a year and a half of aminorrhea, gave nothing. The suspicion of leukemia was not justified. vegetative-vascular dystonia against the background of a nervous breakdown. Until now, with overstrain, spasms can form.
Awareness of illness is the most difficult thing for people with mental disorders. If a person has a joint or stomach ache, he feels pain and understands that something needs to be done to make it go away: go to a doctor or a pharmacy, buy and take medicines, get tested, and so on. If a person has depression, paranoia or hallucinations, then he does not experience pain and does not realize that he is sick with something, that he needs treatment, that he needs a doctor. Therefore, in the case of mental illness, people around them understand that “something is wrong” with a person than he does. But even if a person accidentally stumbles and falls on the street, you can hear laughter nearby, and if a person has mental disorders, then such laughter can be even stronger, at least stronger than the desire to provide some help.
I first realized that I was sick, in September 2000, when I was in a psychiatric hospital. Back then, I was a rather boring history teacher who was laughed at by students, and a full-time graduate student. Just in the fall of 2000, I had to submit my Ph.D. thesis to the department, but I had nothing to take. I spent three years of study, firstly, on earning money for my living (salaries and scholarships were then delayed for a period of two to three months to one year), and secondly, on writing no less boring works about the "class nature of the USSR" and the “Marxist analysis of Soviet society,” which I tried to propagate among a small circle of like-minded people.
The first to notice that “something was wrong with me” were my fellow teachers and the school administration. One day my mother informed me that the headmaster of the school called her and asked to watch me. Realizing that I would not be able to pass my dissertation this year, I decided to drastically correct my relationship with the students, whom I had previously instructed a lot of twos, which is why some high school students even called me at home with threats. The path that I chose - clowning - shocked both students and colleagues. The growing persecution mania combined with megalomania made my work at school impossible. At the insistent request of the administration, I wrote a letter of resignation. Mom tried to take me first to a neurologist, then to a mental dispensary, then she had to call an ambulance, which took me to a mental hospital.
A typical episode of the first day of my hospital stay. I, like everyone else, was first placed in the supervisory ward - next to the post of the nurse on duty. In front of the post in the corridor, a rather strong man is tied up on an iron bed. I ask the guys in the ward who it is. They answer me:
- Gypsy baron.
I go out into the corridor, quietly sit down next to him and say:
- Do you think we still have time ?
He looks at me in surprise and says:
- Of course.
- We are very lucky that we in Odessa, not in the city of Grozny. Someday there will be a gypsy state on Earth.
The man thought about it for a long time, then asks:
- BAtya, where is our homeland?
I don’t remember what I answered. But then they explained to me that he was not a gypsy, but a Ukrainian, and he served as a warrant officer of the internal troops.
The first two weeks of my stay in the mental hospital, I did not believe that I was sick. I thought that all this was some kind of mistake or accident, and the patients around me did not at all seem sick to me. In any case, most of them seemed to me to be quite normal people who happened to be here for some reason. I even made friends with some. For a while it seemed to me that everything around was some kind of performance or a joke, and tomorrow they would come to me and say: "Excuse me, Ivan Petrovich, we played a joke on you, go back to school to take your place as a teacher."
But time passed, and it became clearer and clearer that the road back to school was closed to me forever. I was expelled from graduate school while I was in the hospital for not following the curriculum. When, after leaving the hospital, I went to my scientific advisor, the venerable lady professor, she told me that I was expelled, and she no longer had anything to do with me. Since I was on good terms with the dean, I, on his advice, petitioned to extend my postgraduate studies by two and a half months, which I was in the hospital, having provided a sick leave. The application was granted and even paid me a scholarship for these two and a half months, but, naturally, I could not complete my dissertation. The former supervisor did not want to have any further business with me, but I never found a new one. When I asked to get a job at the university at least as a laboratory assistant, I was refused. After spending another two months without work, I went to work as a landscaping worker at Gorzelentrest, where my mother had worked for over 30 years.
Depressive states have happened to me from 13-14 years old, with different duration, intensity and frequency. I suspected that this was not normal, but I preferred to think that it was just my peculiarity, and nothing could be done about it. Although sometimes it was really bad, I turned to psychotherapists for a solution to the problem, I was prescribed antidepressants - and I disappeared until a new exacerbation. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder quite recently and by accident, I was just lucky with a doctor who saw something that others did not see. One consultation was enough to understand that all my ups and downs have a very specific reason.
Yes, I didn't understand. Study, triplets, study, excellent. won regional chemistry Olympiad. and completely overwhelmed technical subjects (I studied to be a chemical technologist, my brother is a chief engineer and wanted me to follow in his footsteps). failed my exam in colloidal chemistry and thought it was the finish line. I stole 57 grams of a poisonous aromatic amine (which is more poisonous) from the laboratory, made a suspension in tea and drank it. Silly, I don't argue).
I don’t remember exactly at what moment it dawned on me that what was happening to me was abnormal. I only remember that it was before the first psychiatrist visited.
Until 11-12 years old I believed that the “interlocutors” in my head are just an internal dialogue that everyone has, until at some point I learned that it turns out that other people have an internal dialogue is completely different.
I was 21 then. I studied in the 5th year of the institute. Well, how to say I studied. I somehow finished my studies until the 5th year, and in the fifth year I quit going to classes. Once I was reading Fromm's Anatomy of Human Destructiveness and began to hate myself. I decided to commit suicide and drank 50 phenozepam tablets. I was taken to toxicology, and the next day I arrived home. In the evening the whole family had dinner, and I yelled at my mother for no reason. Dad was very upset and told me that he would send me to a psychiatric hospital. I was put in a psychiatric hospital, diagnosed with schizophrenia and given some kind of medicine. Then I realized that I am a mentally unhealthy person.
I went to a psychiatrist to treat my depression, but soon after it was over, I started to have mild manic symptoms. For some time I lived with the doctor's formulation “slight tendency to cyclothymia,” but then I got my diagnosis, because hypomania began. In general, as far as I know, this is a frequent history in patients with bipolar disorder or cyclothymia - only depression can be diagnosed, because even in mania, or even more so in hypomania, few go to the doctor: this state can be perceived as not devoid of pleasantness (so much energy, desires, life is in full swing!), and I heard that in the US, psychiatrists / psychotherapists are going to redefine the standards of working with those who are diagnosed with depression (to test them for bipolar disorder).
And after the doctor finally was able to say what this was happening to me, I remembered several episodes of hypomania in my life, the first occurred at the age of 15. I then kept a diary, and suddenly entries from an informative and calm lydybra changed their character and found themselves in a completely different register - they had overwhelming emotions, accompanied by reflections on the meaning of life and sounding very painful. Then, and many years later, it seemed to me that this is typical of adolescence. Now I think that with all the perturbations that every teenager goes through, not everyone constantly experiences emotions that are off scale to the level of affect.
Many, I know, are upset upon learning the diagnosis, and they need a certain time to accept new knowledge about yourself. On the contrary, the diagnosis encouraged me. First, it was important for me to get an objective recognition of my suffering (and not “you make it up”, “this will pass” and “Sarah, everyone is bad”); and secondly, I was finally able to start taking the pills I needed. You are not suffering from a diagnosis, but from depression, mania or mixed phases. However, it took me a week to cope with the confusion - it turns out that some part of my personality, character was not my personality at all, but just symptoms of the disease? Then what am I? And am I outside of this?