The first time someone I trusted told me that he thought I was psychotic and that I needed medication, I thought I was going to throw up. When I filled out my prescription for the antipsychotic, I started to cry. I do not know if they were tears of relief, shame or both.
Nine years to the day of starting my journey into the supernatural, I was evaluated as needing an antipsychotic. I had spent the last nine years getting heavier and heavier into the occult. My interests ranged from everything to witchcraft to psionics to healing at a distance to psychic ability.
I was in over my head when I was told by an acclaimed psychic that I had the ability to heal with my hands. I believed it because at this point I was able to ask myself questions and get what I thought were accurate answers through visions and words that sounded in my head. It got to the point where every decision I had to make, I checked with my psyche first. I started working with other people and attempting to heal them. It even seemed to work a couple of times.
One night I was doing a healing session and came across a vortex in my mind. I imagined myself stepping into that vortex and I began to spin round and round as events flashed before my eyes. The next morning I woke up with vertigo and for two weeks dealt with the room spinning until my energy healer cleared it. I was so frightened by this experience and the sense of losing control, that I had a nervous breakdown. Suddenly everything became about survival.
I was extremely paranoid. I saw signs in everything–signs from God. I would make up links to events and daily circumstances and call it synchronicity. I would make decisions based on it. I thought I wasn’t getting my period because God did not want me to have a baby with my husband. I was getting visions of my future and living my life accordingly.
I was so open to everything. Everything that came into my senses was processed as either threatening or a sign on which direction I should go next. I felt like I was getting information from every source. I swear my IQ increased a few points and my photographic memory improved.
I tried incessantly to heal myself and failed. My physical and mental symptoms were getting worse and worse. My energy healer worked on my issues constantly.
It ended with me writing daily, sometimes for hours and hours throughout the night, formulas in a journal to save the world. The formulas were based on spiritual consciousness, the Universal Laws, and the dynamics of masculine and feminine energies. I had gone from basing my life using practical and logical decisions to delusional.
It felt so right at the time, even if there was always this constant lurking black mass that felt like it was going to swallow me whole at any time. I was terrified of it because I felt it meant insanity and death by abandonment of everything I loved.
When I realized I was psychotic, I got so good at checking and re checking how I presented myself in front of others that I appeared practical and creditable, even if my interests were judged as eccentric. I felt like I was two people, split by this imaginary line of insanity and sanity. I felt consumed by it, that it was going to kill my soul and I would be left an empty shell to wither and die a soulless death. I thought of my death constantly.
I tried so hard to impress my psychiatrist with my rationale, that it took her 6 months to evaluate my need for an antipsychotic. By this point I was terrified of my mind and the battering sense that my existence would be wiped out. I had completely rid myself of anything occult in nature (sold or gave away all of my books and divination tools) and stopped asking for visions in the hope that it would all go away. I had lost all my confidence to make decisions for myself and relied on others constantly to tell me what was best. But that feeling of toeing the line of insanity stayed with me until I got on the medication–until I could let go enough to prove to myself that I was not going to go insane.
It’s been two years on the medication. I ask for visions sparingly now and don’t take them too literally. I can draw and write without this feeling of being consumed by the creative energy that flows through me. I can journal to express my feelings and not feel afraid of the written word (I used to get anxiety attacks by looking up words in the dictionary!) I don’t fear my thoughts anymore. And if I am a healer, I now heal through my hands by creating art for others.
I am very grateful to my Cranial Sacral Therapist for empowering me with the realization that the only way to manage psychosis is through medication. Alternative medicine and therapy did not work for me–I tried for a year and half to avoid doctors and meds. And although the medication hasn’t been easy on my body (save that for another blog), I am grateful for it and wouldn’t change a thing.
Yeah okay, maybe I have broken the rule–my rule–that your blog entry should be short. I always had a hard time conforming, even to my own rules.
I would really like to hear what your experience has been with psychosis. Please comment.
Hi. I’m Trish Hurtubise…the founder, curator and an editor for Mental Health Talk. I love serving those who are relegated to the shadows by society by giving them a platform to share their voice and be seen and heard… hence my passion for working with all the wonderful people who have shared their stories and wisdom on MHT.
You may view all posts by me here.
Much love to you.