Confessions

I'm sitting in the waiting room, hoping they call my name soon. I'm reading the latest Chuck P. book when my leg does that shaky thing that only happens when i'm really nervous. The room is decorated with Native American paintings, some are even embroidered on all the pillows. It's calming. After 45 minutes i'm called back. The doctor seems nice enough as he leads me into his office. It is almost bare, with nothing on the walls, little furniture, and files scattered everywhere. After filling out some paperwork, we begin.

He asks me questions, lots of questions. I answer them all honestly. I admit to things that i've never said out loud before. It's funny how it's almost easier to be open to strangers. Most of his questions hit home, and conjure memories of going through the situations. After about an hour of this, he tells me what he thinks. He says that i'm bi-polar, manic depressive, have panic attacks, anxiety troubles and, here comes the bombshell, that i'm paranoid schizofrenic. He say that i need to be on anti-psychotics. After almost 24 hours it's sunk in, and i've reached a few conclusions.

First, I'm going to give up on dating and relationships. I'm not saying that because i'm bitter about my past ones, because i'm really not. I've just kind of realized that with all my mental problems and physical afflictions, it's irresponsible to try and get close to someone that way. That's just the way it is. I can't risk putting someone through that kind of pain. Which brings me to point 2.

Two weeks ago, i sat in my bathtub with a razor blade for an hour, fighting a voice in my head that was screaming at me to break the skin. The summer after i graduated, i took two medicince cabinets full of pills before going to sleep. I never did see a doctor afterwards. I never told anyone about this stuff until it was long over with. It's never been about attention for me, or wanting to be saved at that moment. It was about a desire for everything to just end. It's not something new to me. I used to go to sleep when i was seven, and pray that i wouldn't wake up. Even though it seems silly to me now, i realize that i'm not the one in control when i'm in the downward spiral. I don't want to hurt anyone. My mom once told me that she's just waiting for the call telling her that i had finally done it. It broke my heart because i realized she was right.
But i am fighting it. I've fought it every day for my entire life, and i'm tired. I hope this medication works, but it scares me too. I don't want to completely change, losing the qualities about myself i like along with everything else in the process.

I also belive that all the great art, music, movies, etc come from pain. That inner turmoil and insanity is the fuel that drives every great artist. I'm not saying that i'm in the same league as them, but i do believe that i have talent. I'm scared that if i take medication, that will go away. The only time i can write anything of value is when i'm in the throes of psychosis. I can't lose that, because somethimes i feel like that's all i truly have.

But maybe, one day, i can be rid of the racing thoughts, voices, black outs, paranoia, mood swings, longing for self destruction, anxiety, and all the other shit that's dragged me down for so long, but keep the positive things that i like to think make me, me.