I have never been diagnosed with anything, mostly because I've been too poor to have insurance or too scared/uncomfortable with the concept of a therapist/psychologist. So, instead of talking about labels, I'm just going to talk about where I've been, where I am now, and where I hope to be one day.
I've never understood other people's emotions all that well. I know my own, as one who lives on the shore learns to know the signs of an oncoming tidal wave that could destroy all they care about. I have spent so long in my own mind, traversing the mazes within to find the keys to my own stability. And I did find some, so it hasn't been for naught. But.. I was terrible. I accept that. I know that. I still feel... bad doesn't cover it. I feel terrible about it, but terrible is just a word people lump on things to make it easier to explain.
Whatever was going on in my head those years ago, it manifested as different things, different emotions and behaviors. All contorted out of context, and reality into something far more disturbing and dangerous. In a way I'm GLAD that in 2007-2008 no one really knew me in person. The only person was Glenn, and that relationship has been damaged by that. There will always be a gap between us now.
I'm glad because had I been more social, it's very possible I would have been locked up. I'm glad because no one deserves the backlash, the cruelty I casually dispersed when I was so blind with rage at whatever was on my mind at the time. I'm glad because no one else was hurt... Only online. Only through the screen of the web could I lash out and attempt to infect others with my so called righteous fury. Only through the veneer of reality of the internet could anyone see the psychosis I experienced, up until whatever it was that happened that fateful day in April.
Only online could people see the real me that existed then. To anyone in person I must have just seemed dark, weird and angry. I spent all my time in my room, unhealthily so- And I mean that literally. All I consumed were pastas, and rockstars. Up to 4 of the huge ones a day. At one point there were 3 types of mold in my room because I was so mentally unhealthy, trying to battle the rage in my mind (which is quite possibly what led to the events of 4/14/2008) that I didn't. even. notice.
I was not in a good place, at all. Though sometimes still I say I want the world to burn, back then it was more than just a minor haunting shadow behind my head, remarking when I saw terrible news, or cruelty. It was a yearning, a terrible, consuming wish that the world and everything on it would burn, metaphorically and actually. Honestly, I am amazed I came out of that on my own. It built up and built up and built up, consuming every waking moment of my life, between that and bouts of almost narcissism. With a twist, of course, because my human life is so boring....
That's where my creativity came in. Amazing stories of strong, awesome characters filled my head to the brim, just appearing on their own, and at the time, I thought I was experiencing past life memories. Who knows, maybe I was. My mind constructed reasons for all my angry thoughts.
Anyway... Trying to stop myself from being angry was like trying to chain down a dragon by diving on it and trying to put a regular necklace on it. While the dragon is thrashing around and throwing you against boulders etc.
Then, one day... Well, one morning after I'd stayed up all night on some stupid whim, my brain cracked, and colors came out. And yes, I mean I literally hallucinated. I had gotten out of the shower, and pulled the hoodie on over my head, and bam. My center of balance was ... just gone. I could see crystal clearly without my glasses for a moment, and then everything came crashing down. The bathroom was yellow/green. The hallway magenta.
My room was lavendar and underwater. NOTE: I physically SAW these things. I felt my brain pulsating inside my skull and thought I was having a "brain attack". My legs gave out when I made it into the room- It was as if they served to deliver me to my room and then were turned off by remote control. BAM. I landed on my stomach facing the window/wall, my back to the closet. I could feel my icy cold hair on my back, and I thought I would freeze to death. My heart was pounding in my chest and I thought I was going to die from that. I closed my eyes and rode it out for about 10 minutes, before finally making myself get up and find my glasses.
Ever since then? I haven't had such bouts of rage with no reason anymore. I still have the rage, though it's shrunk a lot now. But whereas then I felt consumed by it and it had no direct reason, now it's an instantaneous overreaction I can calm down from. I can feel OTHER THINGS. It's amazing.
However... I still don't like it. Having no real control over what angers me. I know that it's not really something anyone can help that much, no matter how perfect they want to pretend they are. But I really dislike the idea of being consumed by fleeting feelings, and I still am. My default now is happiness, but the rage easily pops through to say hello when something angers me. I mean, it's more than someone in a car cutting me off in the crosswalk, though. I really have regained a lot of control without medication or any therapy besides my own haphazard, half-interested creativity. I wake up in the morning and have a smile on my face, happy to be alive. It fades throughout the day, but I don't just go into that unhealthy state anymore.
