I’m just going to put an out of order sticker on my forehead and call it a day.

Today has been the day from hell. I want to be with my husband and daughter and I can’t be plus everyone around me is sick and grumpy. I want this day to be over already. I am off tomorrow and when I get home I know there is going to be tension because my daughter has a project for school and any school work at all with her isn’t fun because she gets aggravated and starts to fuck it up on purpose. I just want to be done for the day and crawl back in my bed and go to sleep.

Stats for today:

100 ounces of water

No exercise

Mood is 😐 and 😦

Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those do matter don’t mind.- Dr. Seuss

I stayed up for New Years!! I got my kiss and followed the superstitions about not cleaning, spending money, washing, and eating greens, black eyed peas and ham for good luck. I love actually having a day off with my family especially a holiday those don’t happen very often but it also makes it harder to leave them because if I had my choice this would be my job and I would get to spend more time with them, but I need some miracles to happen for that. I am busting my ass trying to figure out the right formula to make this go viral. I realize that this itself is a job and everyday I am learning it more and more everyday the amount of time it takes to engage your readers, post, keep up with your social media. It can be a 5 or 6 hour day if you are behind like me. I need a manager to stay on me to get this where it needs to be. The last two weeks or so I’ve had a problem with peoples stupid opinions and critics of me and things I am doing wrong (according to them) and I can’t handle judgement very well so it bothers me and I don’t know how to fix it but good old Dr. Seuss reminded me to not let that shit get to me. So I am trying but it is hard to do.

Stats:

No workout

85 ounces of water

Mood: 😐 and 😦

Shoot for the moon even if you miss you will land among the stars.

I needed something uplifting after the day I had. I am so stressed out with everything happening around me. I haven’t had a chance to update everything the way I wanted to. I need a vacation from everything. I am trying to figure out how to manage everything and be there for people emotionally, mentally and physically but it is so hard. I can only be a good support system for so long before I collapse and need you more than you needed me. I am trying to do better drinking more water but it isn’t helping at all. I need guidance over this next year on exactly what I should do. I feel like I am lost completely.

🖤Day 31 🖤 Weird Quirk of Mine

First let me say I DID IT!!!! All 31 days it was challenging at times but I did learn something’s about myself in the process.

Ok…. weird quirks of mine. My illness does that count??

~ I bite my lip when I get anxious

– I hear voices and sounds all the time

– I hallucinate almost every night

– I can swallow multiple pills at once

– When my anxiety gets really bad and I start to hear the man I pace back and forth talking to myself

– I can’t take Ativan which is odd

– I am terrified of heights

– If you start to tickle me it turns into an anxiety attack

– I can’t hide in places because of anxiety

– I have crippling anxiety

– I don’t like to use the word hate it is a waste of an emotion

– I can’t stop swearing it is part of my everyday activity

That’s it unless you want me to go through everything with my illness

It’s been real 31 day challenge

🖤

I snorted Valium off a Bible. 2015- I have no idea how I’m not dead. (The months before the exorcism)

If you’ve read my exorcism story you will know that 2015 was just a complete and utter cluster fuck. Don’t worry the story about the Valium and the Bible will be included. I don’t believe in click bait. From January until December I was the definition of chaos.

January through February – I emotionally abused strangers on the internet. (The Xanax and Valium started here. That isn’t an excuse for what happened but is important to the timeline.) I cat fished people and it was for attention. I craved that attention so I joined a chat room and I saw all of these people pop on and the chat would be so excited to see them and they would give these long winded dramatic stories of “their life” I think we chat room full of catfish and the few true people there got more emotional baggage then they needed. I made the story so outrageous it was only logical in some outrageous fiction novel. I joined in with this group of people talking about drugs (that wasn’t completely a lie) overdosing (some truth there too) abusive partners, emergency surgeries. I just needed that attention and the more I got the bigger the lies became until I had to fake my own death (on at least 4 different occasions.) it was only after I completely broke someone’s heart that the attention I craved was given to me in another form. I was honest and even then so much damage was done. My hurt still hearts for her and I still have an enormous amount of guilt for what I did. If you are still here then you realize that I’m seriously not a horrible person.

March through July- I started walking because my psychiatrist said that exercising would improve my moods along with the weight loss. Then those damn Facebook ads started popping up (thanks big brother) with those weight loss tablets that are all natural and all you had to do is take them. They magically made your cellulite, carbs, water weight, freckles, credit all improve. (You get where I’m going with this) Well I started taking those and then decided they weren’t enough so I bought/stole diet pills from Wal-Mart and started taking them all day long. My hypomanic that started has now turned into a haze of pills and mania, but I got attention. It was extremely negative attention from the wrong people but it was attention.) When I would start shaking from all of the caffeine from the diet pills and Redbull I would take Xanax and Valium to calm myself down. In this period I’m randomly taking my antipsychotic and mood stabilizers.  I was itching one day bad and I grabbed the first thing I could find which was my Bible tore out a piece of the first page and snorted Valium. (I still question if God has forgiven me for this.) I got so obsessed with snorting that I would snort anything. I mixed Goodys headache powder with Valium to help with my headache and my high. Never snort Goodys it burns and I’m surprised my nose didn’t bleed excessively during the process. I was extremely angry during this period as well. There was a huge part of my past that I never talked about and it was triggered. I did everything I could to make go away. I hated my husband because he wasn’t there when it happened. He wasn’t present in that part of my life the way he should’ve been.) I was a mess and became an expert at lying to get my way and making sure I always had what I needed to make me forget. I pushed away my best friend who always tried to help. I made myself hate her because she didn’t understand and no matter how many times I tried to overdose or how high I got she was always there supporting and helping me. My husband was the same way. It was so much easier to hate them then for me to hurt because I was in so much agony over everything that was happening that had happened I wanted to be high I needed to be high to function. I wasn’t functioning though not the way I thought. I was drowning myself in pills. It is easy to feel sorry for yourself and use that as an excuse for every horrible thing you did to anyone especially yourself. When you hate yourself that much every bad decision feels like a good one. All of this leads up to the point where I try to kill myself which I document in the other post about my exorcism. As for the horrible thing that happened to me I’m sure you figured it out but that isn’t something yet I’m ready to discuss.

I can’t take back any of the things I did. I can only thank the people who stayed in my life that supported and loved me through this. If there are any doubts in my story or you think that they are in anyway not true please let me know I have receipts for all of it… trust me.

Fuck you 2015 you tried to kill me but I fucking survived.

10-13 – 72 hour psych hold – The story of a bipolar outcast. (This is a 4 part series.)

The story: My hubby and I went tubing the week before everything happened. There was a lot of rain so the water was rough, but we decided to go anyway. We were probably a quarter of the way down the river when I hit a rock that knocked me out of the tube and underwater. The tube fell on top of me and when I finally stood up my anxiety was bad I couldn’t breathe. The moments after this are kind of blurred except the fight with my husband (when it gets bad there is ALWAYS a fight with my husband.) The next days after that it kept getting worse and that feeling in my stomach wouldn’t go away. I left where I was that Friday and rushed myself to the ER convinced I was dying of something. (I tend to be a tad bit dramatic.) The dr in the ER told me I was just experiencing some mild anxiety and prescribed me Ativan (3). (We now know I can’t take Ativan because it makes me manic.) The entire weekend was just a blur. I know I wasn’t sleeping, then I was and then I tried to run out of the condo naked a few times and drive my car. (if you’ve read the exorcism post this should sound familiar.) I  got time confused and started texting and calling people at all hours of the night. When Monday finally came around I crashed then on Tuesday I had a doctors appointment and that is when it all happened.

I don’t trust general practitioners to this day because of this. It was Tuesday, July 16, 2013, I went in at 8:30 am for a dr. appointment and somewhere I scared the hell out of Nurse Practitioner with closing blinds, turning off a light and sitting in the dark (I’m sure other stuff happened I can’t remember.) I sat there for awhile and then the doctor came in and said we are taking you across the street to the hospital (Morgan Memorial), but when I said I would drive they said, “No the nurse will bring you.” I should’ve known something was up then. When we got to the hospital there were security guards and nurses around the check in desk and then I knew something was wrong. After I checked in they put me in a bed by the nurses station and every time I had to go to the bathroom they would follow me. (This should’ve been my clue.) between then and about 2:30 I had nurses and doctors in and out asking me questions taking my blood. I called my husband trying to keep him updated until he was able to get off work to sit with me. I kept asking when I was going to leave but no one would tell me anything and THEN finally that evil bitch walked in, the on staff psychologist. We played 20 questions and she pulled out a pile of papers and started playing 150 questions. I got irritated and asked if I could leave and she in this most condescending way possible says, “If you leave the sheriff will come and find you.” I still had no clue what the fuck was going on and she finally told me. “You were placed on a 10-13 (in the state of Ga) involuntary psych hold. So we are trying to find a bed for you at a psych hospital.” There was never anything comforting or further explanation besides, “You are bipolar, manic and a danger to yourself and others. We will come back when we have a bed for you.” That was it “a bed.” In the eyes of the state I am no longer a person, just “a bed.” I had become a number, a warm body to fill the bed and line the pockets of the insurance companies.

When my husband got there I told him the news. I was completely devastated and confused. We still weren’t completely sure of what was happening.  I tried to explain to him what was happening but it didn’t make any sense because NONE OF THIS MADE SENSE. The evil bitch finally came back when they had “a bed” and she could barely get the words out of her mouth before he got angry and started demanding answers. She explained everything to him and he said, “I want to take her there.” She said, “No she has to go by ambulance because she is in the care of the state.” I was “a bed” “in the care of the state.” I want you to think about how fucked up that is. They took my identity from me and made me a statistic, my illness at that point defined me. My husband talked her into letting him take me. He rushed home grabbed our daughter and some clothes. (If you aren’t familiar with psych hospitals; No shoelaces, no drawstrings, no belts, nothing sharp, nothing offensive, nothing triggering,) So he was able to run home grabbed some clothes and flip flops and my daughter. This still bothers some people because my daughter was there when I was dropped off.

We are getting to the good stuff…..

If Emily Rose was a doped up schizophrenic it would look like this.

Before I start this I need to say the following: The only person I will mention in this blog is my husband. The names of other person involved will be listed as person 1. I want to thank person 1 for everything they did during the time it was happening and I’m sorry for everything I did and ruining the friendship we had. I was overly medicated, selfish, a bitch and reflected symptoms of a sociopath. (Don’t do drugs kids) which in no way can make up for the pain I caused, but it was my fault and I’m sorry.

So let’s start on August 27, 2015, we just got back from vacation and I was not on my meds. I laid in the bathtub and took excessive amounts of lamictal, Fanapt, Xanax and Valium. I know this much for a fact. (Do you see a trend here?) I took Lamictal whenever I wanted to and I would skip it for 7 or more days and then take 8 or 9 at a time. I stopped taking my antipsychotic which at the time was Fanapt except when I felt like it and then I took 6 or 7 at the time. What I did not stop taking was Xanax. Xanax and I have a long extremely unhealthy history. I also need to mention that at this time I was also mixing Xanax with Valium and a bunch of diet pills. So after that I asked person 1 for help. (They are in no way affiliated with a church) They were “counseling” me (it is hard for counsel someone who is so high all the time but I thank them for their efforts) One day (I think it was the end of September beginning of October) I told them that I was having memory lapses and it felt like someone else was in my body talking for me like I was possessed this is where it gets interesting. The person possessing me was Legion. (if you don’t know who he is- Legion” is the name given to a demon or group of demons, particularly those in two of three versions of the exorcism of the Gerasene demoniac, an account in the New Testament of an incident in which Jesus performs an exorcism- google.) I apparently had quite a few conversations where “Legion” talked to them and texted them. (I have yet to figure that part out.)  and then we decided to try and solve the problem and do an exorcism on me. I want to remind you again that person 1 is in no way affiliated with a church so none of this was a good idea.

The first time in October. I couldn’t tell you what I looked liked but I’m sure it was a high manic psychotic person. They did the Bible verses (https://www.catholic.org/prayers/prayer.php?p=682 and I think that is where they came from) and the frankincense and myrrh anointed on my head. I shook and jerked around speaking in “tongues” (it was just swearing excessively cursing everyone including God.) I tried to choke myself with a cable and when that didn’t work I climbed up a flight of stairs screaming incoherent sentences mixed with the constant verbiage of fuck damn and shit. In my head I swore I summoned serpents and talked to Legion.)  I came to on the staircase completely confused of what was going on with me. When that was over I sat on the couch completely just fucked up. I didn’t know what was going on I was hearing things and I was so confused so I took Xanax and not a little Xanax 12, 1 mg Xanax and I had to be somewhere at 5:30 and about 45 minutes after I did it I said oh shit and tried to counteract the Xanax with Redbull. (There is proof of all of this.) I drank 3, 20 ounce Redbulls because in my head one will fix the other. (Again don’t do drugs kids) so when I got there and I’m so mixed up between emotions, medicine and just complete manic denial. I just left and went to the ER. For whatever reason God decided to have mercy on me and they did not take my blood. I drove completely fucked up and to this day have no way to tell you how I made it anywhere safely. (I have big regrets about that now.)

Now the memory lapses are back and worse than before and “Legion” is getting stronger, so I thought, this entire time I’m just steady popping pills. So we decided to do this a second time and my husband was there. Person 1 was talking to me and I went blank then I took off running and my husband clotheslines me to get me to stop and I popped back up like nothing happened. They held me down again reciting bible verses trying to get me to stop and eventually I got exhausted and stopped. I always call my psychiatrist whenever anything is happening and I had to go in and see him and he threatened me with inpatient if I didn’t stop. He also cut off my Xanax and Valium and I lost all privileges to do anything so no more diet pills. No more refills so when I ran out I was out.

The last time was at my house. It was like 1 in the morning and I was on my usual routine of popping pills, my husband is up with me trying to take care of everything that was happening (God bless that man) when I flipped my shit again. I ran to the kitchen and got a knife and we fought as I tried to stab him then dropped the knife and went running through the yard screaming (thank God my daughter saw none of this) he again had to clothesline me which accomplished nothing. I tried to stab him again and then proceed to grab my keys and try to get in my car to leave. He fought me the best he could pulling me out of the car. I kept screaming and running I fell down repeatedly in the process and I’m pretty sure I ran into a tree, but I was doing everything “Legion” told me to do.

By early November I was out of everything covered in cuts and bruises and then withdrawals. I hate withdrawals and withdrawing from everything I was on felt like death, but by the time it was over with the damage was done. Relationships ended the truth and what was a lie is still obscured  some to me. What I did learn from this is were people possessed schizophrenic? Was I actually possessed or was it the medication and schizophrenia that got me? I will never know the answers to those questions. I sit here 3 years later writing this and I realized how fucking stupid this sounds. I had to leave some out for other reasons but this was the worst of it. So yeah there was a time I had exorcisms performed on me. It was one of the highlights of my mental health timeline.