I had a dream containing elements of my past hallucinations. Thanks to sleep paralysis and sheer terror, I couldn’t wake up. When I finally did, I awoke in a controlled panic, scanning the room and hallway for evidence that I was truly awake and my hallucination wasn’t sharing any part of my reality.
Fucking paranoia. I find there’s one thing that’s happened in my recovery and that’s my mania has almost taken a back seat to my need for control and full blown anxiety. I believe I straddle a very fine line between paranoia and anxiety; my anxiety is always there – fear of being found out, fear of slipping back into insanity, fear of losing everything – including myself (whom I’ve just successfully located mind you) – to this fucking disease. The thought cripples me at times, before I realize the thoughts themselves give it too much power and control over me – and that is something I just won’t tolerate.
I’ve worked too hard. I’ve come too far in my recovery. Yet there are days recently where my mind feels close to shutting down. My anxiety gets so intense and overwhelming, it’s difficult to not look back to former coping skills for quick relief (I’m talking to you Seroquel and X-Acto). But my former coping skills did nothing for my problems and stressors, they only numbed the feelings in that moment and delayed any chance I had in solving the issue right then. And honestly I can’t look my patients in the face, advocate for healthy coping skills, and go home and do something different.
I’m going to try to go back to sleep; I can’t control my dreams, but I can control my behavior when I wake up.