This is when the shit hits the fan. Anxiety induced dreams

So I don’t know if I was asleep or awake last night, but all I saw was a sea of people with purple faces until they ripped their faces off and held me down in the water trying to get me to deny Jesus. Then everything went quite and the man beside my bed whispered, “I’m back.”

The next thing I know I’m in a tornado trying to grab on to anything that comes in my path but everything just slips my grip as I’m pelted over and over again, but their are no cuts and bruises just gaping holes across my chest and feet. I tried to catch my breath but each time I did I was drowning in a sea blood until the bitter blackness sweeps me away and my mouth becomes a desert that I can’t escape gasping for water until a waterfall falls on me and I can’t breathe again my hand raised above my head again grasping for anything trying to hold my head above water but being sucked down by a hurricane into a black hole and then the man beside my bed whispered, “Are you having fun yet?”

Finally my eyes opened and I couldn’t breathe my chest pounding too scared to get out of bed because what if this is part of his plan and I was dreaming? What is a dream and a reality becomes a 20 question game in my mind. My lip and cheek will start to bleed soon I’m biting for comfort and hope that I’m in reality and the tornado that has just started won’t come around again and start all over. That today I can concentrate at work with visions of ripped off faces in my head. when I tell people I’m not well they don’t understand what this means. This means that I was okay but now I’m not, this means calling the doctor and praying he doesn’t put me back in but instead adjusts my antipsychotic again. This means hoping that the darkness he has created around me doesn’t convince me to slit my wrist, OD on pills, sadly this is my reality until it passes again.


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