Truth be scanned, please

by annex50

I just have to put it out there whether or not anyone reads this,

it is really hard to live this way, not in some figurative sense.

I turn my head and I get a brain “zap”

I sleep at night and dream of all of my fears it seems: tornadoes, plane crashes or near-misses, demons, my mom but not in a positive light, even rudimentary things.

I really get confused now if something has happened before if I dreamed it.  I don’t know who I talked to, if I really saw that crash, police car, that person, that scene.  It’s all muddy.

I have anxiety.  I am depressed.

I take effexor which is supposed to help with both.  I now also take mirtazapine for depression since effexor wasn’t helping enough with that.  Yet, my anxiety has heightened in the last month or so.  I have these nightmares and yet keep going back to sleep, almost purposely.  I find it hard to find a reason to wake up.  I am haunted by my dreams but find it an interesting place to be.  So I go back.  So weird last night too.  I saw my mom.  I felt some sense of control in this dream b/c I felt that I wanted to see her since I had already dreamed of demons and crazy spirit stuff so she appeared.  What I could not control, so I felt, was her reaction to me.  She saw me and looked down and shook her head.  It seemed as if she was disappointed in me.  Gosh, I felt that I could control the rest because I felt like I was dead and in this realm where I could see all of my family members.  I saw them all and modified all of their faces to be a younger, happier version of themselves.  I even thought once about my living grandmother and “heard” myself say that she wasn’t dead yet so she must not be here.

Kept seeing this poster.  I could read words though it seemed to take such focus.  I woke up and fell back asleep three times and kept seeing this damn poster.  I seemed to have written it as a child.  All three time I could remember the words except for some scribble on top.  Yet, funny, I cannot remember all those words now.  I slept too long after the dreams.  But, after a while, I remember that the words on top were not all that eventful and then I kept hearing the names of “demons”.  Heard like three names.  Blah, blah, I ended up in an old house.  These demons were there.  I could not shake them away.  So dark.

This is all so uncomfortable.  I don’t know if who I am is beyond my brain.  I never have really known that.  My brain is directing itself or me to places that I cannot know if what I think or who I am or if I am anything that it all is too much.  It’s like the antidepressants make me less prone to kill myself but at the expense of psychosis.  This is truth.  I am not in a drunken blurb.  It’s what keeps happening.

As I said in a previous blog (poem) whatever, it seems that I believe in this cause of sustenance.  Just keep on.  But, I am not who I was.  Not in a poetic sense or understanding of individual evolution.  I think the only was for me is when I was getting away from some oppressive force.  I am used to being belittled and pushing back and proving something.  Now, I am GENERALLY nicer in that regard, to a point.  I am flat on my face.  My brain is a mishmash when it comes to daily life (still functions well when concentrated), and I am not really an I anymore.  It’s like the first time that I’ve realized that my brain is taking over.  I am in a new web and it’s being packed with drugs.  Oh, and alcohol, but for another day.

If you have mental issues, why can’t you get a brain scan?  Why are we playing this game of words, where I might be telling the truth and where the doctor is trying to pigeonhole me into a category of the DSM?  It’s silly really.  Isn’t there some sort of physical science involved?  Is it all word play?  Life and money, it’s all that is at stake.

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