Psychosis - How It Looks Like

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Psychosis - How It Looks Like

 

You feel pressure from all directions.  You donít understand from where it has come.  You complain to anyone who is willing to listen, but nobody offers helpful advice. You become listless and restless.  Your eyes won't stop moving, following everything that is going on around you.  Suddenly, while interacting with those around you, your train of thought is derailed.  You are sure they're talking amongst themselves, perhaps they are talking to you, or maybe not.  Your head pivots from one to another, but you can't figure out what it is they are talking about.  Everything sounds like gibberish to you, words without meaning. 

You are trying to figure out what's going on, what's wrong.  You don't realize that something is wrong with you.  Those around you are whispering.  They have noticed something is not right with you.  They ask why you are staring and why you look so confused.

Time goes by, minute by minute, second by second. Your head spins faster and faster jumbled with thoughts, the voices spewing from the television mix with them.  Suddenly you have this feeling that people are talking about you and to you, but you have no idea what they are saying.  Neither do you understand why they are talking about you.  The worst is yet to come.  At some point, all you want is to go to the living room and watch television.  You stare at the screen, only to find out the Dow Jones Index crashed.  Then, you realize that since your earnings in your bank account are fixed by the Dow Jones rate, those reports must have something to do with them. 

You surf to the National Geographic channel.  The lion looks more ferocious than ever.  You wonder if you were bullying it more than usual during that last visit at the zoo.

Every channel you watch, every word uttered, is about you.  The fear keeps bubbling, but you can't locate its source.  From time to time, you will input a word about what you have been going through.  Your loved ones seemed more concerned by the moment.  

Itís night; time for bed.  You go to the bedroom, wider awake than ever.  You toss and turn.  Hours go by, and you are still unable to fall asleep; thoughts are racing inside your head and drive you up the wall. 

You are daydreaming of clouds, of birds twittering in the background.  You can swear the clouds are in fact angels.  The biggest one assumes the image of God.  It must be a revelation. 

Your wife wakes you up, asking you to lie down on the living room couch.  Once there, she gives you a sleeping pill.  You are, of course, refusing to take the pill and canít understand what she is fussing about.  She is begging you to take the medication, but in her pleas are in vain.  Then, she decides to call your psychologist.  She prattles on for a few minutes, describing the case.  After that, she hands you the receiver.  The voice on the other end of the line sounds familiar and soothing.  Sheís trying to talk you into taking the pill, promising that it will not hurt you.  Your voice sounds shaky as you explain to her how scared you are.  She tries calming you down again.  Finally, you give in and take the pill.  Apparently that doesnít help either, and you keep tossing and turning in bed.

The night crawls ever so slowly.  The horrible thoughts keep on racing inside your head; twittering of birds, childrenís whistles, which must be coming from under the bedroom window.  You start thinking that perhaps the woman lying next to you is no longer your wife, since her sisterís soul replaced hers overnight.

The morning comes; you are ordered around, much like soldiers given direction by their superior officers. But in this case, family members are giving the orders. You obey without really understanding what they want, but you still brush your teeth, wash your face and get dressed. Your wife packs a small bag, and youíre off to the hospital.

Writen by Ronen David ©

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