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chemicallydamaged · 3 years

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Hallucinations/delusions/voices (BIG TW)

Hi, I’m aware I ‘sound crazy’ but no one cares enough to get me help so I thought I would make a list of what I think are hallucinations/voices I've been having. I'm doing this as a vent and I also thought it would be interesting. It's still kind of hard to tell what's real and what's not. I'm pretty scared to post this. Most of these I was not able to tell weren't there at first, and later found out after coming out of an episode or because no one lese was seeing or hearing them. It has also taken me months to post this because I was too scared lmao. Anyway, here they are.

-Slenderman in my closet, staring at me before I go to bed. (more common when I was little but I sometimes still see it)

-Bugs crawling inside my skin or body, this one is extremely common.

-Spiders on my walls and body.

-Any food I eat damaging my insides and clogging my mouth.

-Family becoming skeletons

-people waiting outside my door/window

-people shooting guns by my window

-people staring at me through my screen

-Figures hiding around my room

-people waiting behind my shower curtain

-thinking people are trying to break in

-thinking people are hiding in my mirror

-thinking the government is watching me

-Hearing people arguing, screaming, or shouting outside my window

-Dogs in pain

-hearing peoples thoughts

-hearing music

-ringing

-crying

-babies crying

-gunshots and missles

-thinking the TV is hiding messages

-thinking songs are hiding messages

-thinking I had psychic powers/was G_d.

-Thinking ‘dark energy’ is going to transfer to me by being in the dark too long (I know its stupid but holy fuck does it cause sleep derivation)

-people moaning

-different smells

-thinking friends hate me

-thinking ill kill people if I think about them too much

-seeing myself in an alternate reality (like seeing my ghost self on a couch or something, but I’m different if that makes sense)

-darth vader chilling out on my bed (dumb as well but scary as shit at first)

-poisonous food

-thinking im on the truman show irl

-thinking the mailman wants to break in

-etc.

I typically hear these the most when I first wake up and before I go to bed, but I hear/see/feel them all day if I’m going through a a bad spot. Although not always, I am mostly aware they are not real. The bug one is the only one that really makes me spiral. I have had a few since I was eight and they keep on getting more and more frequent/intense. Most of the voice ones sound more far away than they do up close. Most hallucinations aren't super vivid but they can be depending on my state of mind.

Although I would like to get help for this, my parents glamorize mental illness or dont talk about it at all. This leaves me with very few options, and for now I’m going to have to deal until I’m 16/18.

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chemicallydamaged · 3 years

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Tough Shit Does Bad Shit Me No Like TW: Mentions of ED’s and SH

ah Ha ha it was all fun and games about my self harm recovery until I replaced it with an eating disorder.

Which sucks ass, because people fuel eating disorders in a way that was never like self harm for me. Both suck ass, but I find that eating disorders are “unspokenly encouraged” by many people. When I was cutting open my legs people looked at me in disgust, but when they see the pounds drop and the waist flatten they look at me in admiration.

They like me better when I take up less space.

They like me better when I waste away.

And I think that once that power is given to you, its hard to recover from it for a long, long time.

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chemicallydamaged · 3 years

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I have a lot of drafts that I never post.

Every time I type, it feels useless. Like my fingers are typing but my brain isn't approving. So ill type these several paragraph long topics, disapprove of my phrasing, retype them, disapprove again, then save them and hope I work on them later. Every time I have an opportunity to succeed, I wonder how long it will be before I gain a false sense of hope and everything comes crashing back down on me. This post is particularly insignificant, but if I don't post something now ill probably abandon my account out of weird paranoia.

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chemicallydamaged · 4 years

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yURIIIIiii

NATSUKI OR YURI??!??!?!?

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chemicallydamaged · 4 years

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Yall should hit up my DM’s (;

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chemicallydamaged · 4 years

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Recovery: The Stigma Of Struggle 2/2 (TW)

Please do not read further If you are easily disturbed or affected by mentions of self harm, weight gain, or suicidal behaviors. I wrote this to help someone feel less alone and share my experience- not to potentially trigger someone. Please be safe.

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I told my parents about my several-year long addiction to self harm, despite starting at the age of seven. I've never once been to a therapist, counselor, psychologist, or a psychiatrist. I mainly have scars on my thighs, but I also have them on my waist, face, feet, hands, hips, and so on. I have used needles, glass, push pins, scissors, exacto-blades, knives, razors, and whatever else I could get my hands on. It became an addiction before I even knew what and addiction was.

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(This is an unprofessional, messy rough draft that I wanted to post so you know i'm not dead. I may edit this sometime in the future and delete this lil message thingy.)

Suddenly, you become a liar- that's how these things go on for so long, that's how this cycle eats you alive; “I hate getting wet”, “I just get cold easily”, “The cat scratched me”, and so on. You do anything to protect this secret, this horrible fucking brain eating, exhausting secret- while also hoping someone would ask how you are, maybe ask what's going on, and yet you still lie to them. Help doesn't feel for you- help doesn't always feel like an option.

I always felt like everytime I cut, it was like shutting my thoughts up for a few seconds. I had so much swarming in my head, so many negative, screaming thoughts eating away at my brain, that I would do anything to relieve the tension. Everything irritated me. So when I got home, and all these memories of screaming parents and asshole students and shitty teachers screamed in my thoughts, I couldn't take it. For me, I convinced myself of two options; self harm, or ending my life.

June, maybe July of 2020. I haven't gone outside for a very long time, using covid fear as an excuse. I would be in such deep wallows of depression I could barely move; at that point I had gained so much weight I was scared of taking showers. I was scared of going outside. I was scared of eating. I used a group chat in one of my friend’s servers to get me through it, at least so I could socialize in one way or another. I wanted to get better, yet I was too exhausted to take the steps of recovery. I had tried to quit a few times at that point, only to fall back in. I would be taking a plane ride to see family (safely) and I was so fucking scared. It would be incredibly hot over there, I couldn't wear shorts, I was depressed, I had low-self esteem, and now I had to socialize with family I hadn't seen in several years. I was convinced they would be disappointed in me, I really didn't want them to be ashamed.

When I finally got there, everything had changed. They looked so different- my little cousin, who I remembered as a toddler, was now a kid. My aunts were more stressed out than I had ever noticed before. Some pets had passed away, and the area of town had become pretty run-down. I had always wanted a little sister, and felt like I missed out on a lot of those years- so I tried to spend as much time with her as I could. She was so happy and so energetic, I was so surprised to see that she was excited to meet me. She didn't care about how I looked or how awkward I was, she just wanted to do art and make mudpies and jump on a trampoline, like a kid. I missed out on water balloons, refusing to wear shorts, which upset everyone because I wouldn't be able to play. I took that time to lock myself in a bedroom and cry. When I thought of her ever doing what I was doing to myself, I broke down completely. I would have been self harming for a year by her age. I missed out on so much. To think that she could ever go through that terrifies me and shakes me to my core. She is like a little sister i've never had. I thought of my brother and how he would be upset, so see his actual little sister go through this the whole time. This is still hard to think about. This was my first kick in the ass to recovery. I was going to commit.

I came home in a lot of pain. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I kept impulsively grabbing objects, picking at my skin, biting my nails, and going fucking crazy. I was so close, so many times. I can barely express the amount of stress I was in, not being able to use what I believed to be my only coping mechanism ever since I can remember, knowing for sure I absolutely could not and would not do it. I had to fight with my brain 24/7 just to stay afloat, to have self-control.

Fast forward 4-ish months and I was finally about to tell my mom, but at the wrong time. The closest self harming behavior I had was skin scratching, but that was better than cutting. We had gone to the store to pick out some clothes and I was really excited about it; however, the closer we go to the changing room the harder my heart throbbed out of my chest. If she went in with me, she would see all the scars. We had gotten to the changing room, and she went in with me. I froze up, in cold sweat, and couldn't do or say anything. Just as she said “Oh woops do you not want me in th-” I broke down. In a grocery store changing room. For everyone to hear. She sat me down and comforted me, like a cool mom. I was surprised, I thought she would be embarrassed. I told her about everything. She supported me. I couldn't stop shaking, unsure of weather to be sad or happy. I finally said something. I was relieved. I finally did it.

My dad was less accepting after my mom told him first. Because he doesn't believe in “organized help” and instead believes you have to “get through anything on your own, because that's what I DO” It was probably a bit of a struggle for my mom to talk to him. He avoided me for a few days, until he was ready. When I had finally told him, it turned out to be ok. He wasn't happy with me but he wasn't pissed either so that's a positive. My brother had a similar reaction. A lot of friends didn't care. But some still did, and I'd rather have a few real friends than a lot of fake ones. Sounds like a bunch of hippie dippie Karen bullshit but I genuinely feel way more positive about this then when I first told my parents. I hope to get mental health help soon, although there are so many people trying to get it that its difficult to find a good therapist thats available (Thx c0v1d, u sur3 r g8 0n m3ntal h3alth <3). For now, i'm just doing the best I can- im still going to struggle, but that's part of life. Im happy with that.

This is only my side of the story.

Yours doesn't always have to be the recovery, but it can be the ask for help.

(2/2)

Hope your doing well, wherever you are.

#self harrrm #self harm recovery #stories #part 2 #tw suicice #tw #tw self destruction #get help #its ok #i swear #love yourself #please #or else #ill eat your face #stop reading these tags #stop

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chemicallydamaged · 4 years

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Recovery: The Stigma Of Struggle 1/2 (TW)

Please do not read further If you are easily disturbed or affected by mentions of self harm or suicidal behaviors. I wrote this to help someone feel less alone and share my experience- not to potentially trigger someone. Please be safe.

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(Sciencey part if you're interested)

What Is Self-Harm And Why Is It Addictive? In a summary, self-harm is going out of your way to hurt yourself physically (this takes many forms, not just cutting) in order to receive emotional relief. Self-harm can become an addiction. It becomes addictive because of a series of “feel-good” chemicals your body releases, causing a temporary sense of euphoria. Those who self-harm often have an extreme build-up of emotions that feel out of control, and may use self injury as a way of coping with these emotions- even if it's incredibly unhealthy. There are tons of definitions much better than what I'm providing here, so I strongly recommend looking more into it if you would like to learn more. For now, this is the best one I can provide from my own knowledge.

What led you to this? There are many, many factors. I have never quite been able to pinpoint exactly what led me to using self harm at such a young age though. I suspect I may have been through trauma, although I am unsure. I can barely remember anything at all about my life until I was seven-ish years, when I started self harming. Everything there is so blank for me; I feel like that part of my life has almost gone completely missing from my mind. Sometimes pictures, smells, or sensations can help me with memory though, which I'm very thankful for. I know I use to be an extremely hyper, very bubbly kid despite being so anxious. I know I use to sit at the window and cry four hours everytime my mom would leave for work. I know I use to create art out of trash I found on the street or at the beach. I know I refused to wear anything but a princess dress and froggy boots. I know I loved death metal and dancing. I know I was rebellious, opinionated, and a trouble-maker, all according to my parents. As I get older these memories start to come back more and more, although they feel so incredibly disorganized. I'm lost.

I was on-off self harming until ten years old.

At ten, maybe nine, the self harm had reached an all time high. I was now in poverty- living in a rundown R.V. without a working toilet, A.C., running water, or mold free walls. (Winter felt like nuclear war, and summer felt like burning hell. We had substituted this by using a propane heater and those shitty plastic fans, which dont work so well when you don't take care of them or can't always afford propane for heat.) I had moved across states, and all my friends despised me for my situation- I was considered gross, poor, dirty, trashy, dumb, and so on. I wasn't able to help it, no one chose this.

I was now homeschooled (4th grade) and didn't even give enough of a shit to try academics at that point. I almost failed, or at least that's what everyone told me. There were also a ton of family issues, but I’m sure as fuck not sharing them on the internet. I was getting bullied at school (5th grade mainly) for being the only Jewish person in a very Christian area, not to mention being extremely reserved, alternative-looking, having a lack of social understanding, being overall a little weird, having a horrible family-bond with my parents and brother, suicidal ideations, my cousin’s death fucking me up to an extreme degree, having bruises from an abusive friend, my binge-eating-starving cycle and the good ol’ hiding in the closet (a transparent one, at that) not really helping either.

The world felt like too much. I was taught to never think of myself as a victim, to be a certain way, to act a certain way, to always be smart, to not be so loud, to be less spastic, to be less boyish, that my achievements were only expected of me, that all kind people want something out of me, that shitty, horrible people are the only ones who tell you how it is, that I needed to be something I was not- and I was fucking sick of it. I would cut to feel valid, I would cut to feel existent, relieved for a split second. Suddenly, I couldn't stop. I became reliant; anything that was bothering me that day I could relive with a quick euphoria. I felt like self-harm was the only way my feelings were valid, it was the only way I could express them on the outside, or so I thought. However, the more I cut, the guiltier I felt. The guiltier I felt, the more I cut- and the less I wanted to say anything. It became a never ending black hole for me.

I felt stuck. (1/2)

#tw #self harrrm #self harm recovery #mental health #mental health awareness #my thoughts #my story #recovery #pro recovery #pro help #its okay to ask for help #its okay to have feelings #you are enough #please love yourself #or else #i will cry #because you deserve it #hope youre doing okay #love you dude

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chemicallydamaged · 4 years

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Just a Thought (TW)

Why will schools will remodel their buildings to be bulletproof, to add more places to hide, will add locks on every door, before they do anything to prevent the shootings themselves? They will talk about how school shootings are awful, without actually doing anything to combat the problem.

I feel as though if they actually wanted to do something, they would offer better mental health resources or give students the time of day to talk about their issues. Because if they were to actually give someone the option of getting help, maybe it would potentially save thousands of lives. Because by remodeling your schools to be more secure when shootings happen, you’re not addressing why shootings happen. Maybe then students would feel safer going to school, maybe then students would speak out.

School shootings don't stop by ignoring them. Don't call these situations tragedies and accidents when you could have prevented them from happening. If we are obligated to come to school for 6 hours a day, 180 days a year, make sure every single one of those days is not spent worrying if it will be our last. Make sure you know all those students are safe when they come into your building. Make sure if they have thoughts of doing something like that, they will be able to get proper help.

Prevent the problem before expecting the problem.

#mental health #mental health topics #school shooting awareness #mental health discussion

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chemicallydamaged · 4 years

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First Post Is About My Narcissistic Ass Blog Because It's Way Too Scary To Make A First Post Otherwise:

Wtf is this blog about? This blog will mainly consist of writing, poetry, and shitposts. I typically write about past experiences and the people I notice throughout my day; other times, it's no one at all. I am currently struggling to recover from an addiction, and hope to use this as a healthier substitute for expressing my emotions. Expect for this blog to be messy, vague, and sometimes over descriptive. Sort of like a public diary I guess- my hope is to possibly make someone feel less alone.

Should I be worried about these posts? Hopefully not. I don't want to censor my thoughts/memories on here, however I also don't want to be triggering to anyone. The majority of these posts will have a ‘TW ‘ in the title. Although I don't post outright triggering content as often as I do other dark topics, I still want to be very cautious. If something I posted maybe seemed upsetting or didn't seem right to you, please, let me know. The last thing this blog is for is to cause harm. Your voice is valid and deserves to be heard.

Why would people want to follow you? Idk either dude, I think it's just a way to pass time- or maybe point and laugh. Thats ok either way lol, take whatever you write into the context you like best. If I write about pickles but you feel as though its a deep connection between the bittersweet taste of sour suffering and melancholy dreams, go ahead! Just don't turn it into something weird.

Wait where’s the conclusi- No.

#introduction #writing #poetry #diary #jurnoul #first post #creative writing #about the blog #coping #how the fuck do hashtags work #please get the demons out of my basement how do yall make your entire posts have paragraphs of tags they litterally wont stop screaming #fuck i meant to separate that but im too lazy to fix it oh well

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