Paranoid visions

Fear and confusion are increasing. I feel unable to describe what´s going on inside of me, and I´m not sure I want anything to do with it. I feel like I´m living in paranoid visions.

A vision of me seeking psychiatric help. A vision of everything I believed to know turning out to be false, of me having to learn that I´m thoroughly paranoid, that everyone I perceived as cruel only ever wanted to help me. The idea that my suspiciousness might be part of crazy.

It what I wrote in the last paragraph is really true, then I don´t want to live anymore. There seems to be no point in it. If all my feelings are completely dumb and paranoid and unrealistic, then I don´t see why I should stay alive. What for? To have a family, have a job, contribute something? If all my feelings and perceptions are nonsensical, then what exactly do I have to contribute? Intelligence? So others set the target, and I work on it? We have computers for that. If I fail in all that makes a person human, I don´t see what I´m supposed to be doing here anymore, goodbye. I´m not going to start some stupid cheesy “journey towards healing”, take pills throughout the last years in which I might pass as young, make myself dependent on so-called well-meaning people who tell me what is real and what isn´t and then work in some job that requires no qualification because that´s a mentally ill´s place in this world. It would be so bloody easy, wouldn´t it, if being insane automatically meant you have no wishes and ambitions anyway, right?

It would be so easy if only I could consistently stay sane and cover up what´s going on. Sanity IS covering up what´s going on on the inside. If you are me, then revealing it would be self-destructive, and self-destruction isn´t sane.


Not quite. What´s going on with me is that apparently I´m extremely angry, and that must have been building up for a while. I don´t know why I´m so angry. Maybe those visions make me so angry because their content makes me feel threatened. When I say visions, I mean: It´s like having a nightmare while I´m awake. I don´t believe I´m in some kind of hospital when in fact I´m sitting in my room, but in my head I can hear everything I assume the doctors would say. Most of the time I´m not thinking these thoughts on purpose, only sometimes, when I´m in the middle of such an internal argument, I mentally say what I believe they would say. Most of the time, those thoughts just come to me. They are intrusive and they cause me a lot of inner tension and aggression. I feel like lashing out against anyone who talks to me.

Good. So these visions…they make me angry. That´s most definitely crazy, thank fuck we have that settled. But they´re just visions. I don´t have to do this to myself. I don´t have to go out there and make people punish me like this. Because that, too, is something that goes with these visions: A nasty little belief that I have to make this happen to me. That I need it. That adds to the stress.

Now that I have this figured out, the vision changes. I go see a psychiatrist, I actually manage to tell her about these visions/voices, she thinks that just because I don´t believe they are coming from other people or because I can gain some minimal mental distance from them, they must be some kind of neurosis that can be resolved by looking at my inner conflicts. In other words: She might think there is some truth or some meaningful feeling behind these visions. She might think that I gain something from this, the primary gain that allegedly lies in neurosis, or that I´m just trying to evade something.

That vision makes me feel terrible because it 1) makes me feel like I´m being left alone in this inner chaos and 2) fuels the first kind of vision, the vision where everything is my own fault after all and I “just don´t want to see it”.

Actually, dealing with these visions as psychotic instead of traumatic in nature does not make such a terrible difference right now. It even helps me gain distance and tell myself this isn´t real. If my visions are madness, then what those voices say is madness. That´s quite comforting. It means, like I said, I don´t have to seek out this kind of treatment, this kind of mental breakdown that reduces me to a groveling hysteric sobbing what a moral swine she is.

I´ve heard in that long-ago lecture by Dr. Psych that delusions and delusional belief systems often rely on existing, fairly wide-spread belief systems. A textbook examply is religious mania, but there are also other examples: Alien abductions, current conspiracy theories, the Truman show… Mania attaches itself to whatever it finds. It´s no surprise that with me it was repressed memories and sexual abuse, since I had encountered two such cases some time before. Also, it´s no surprise that my visions deal with psychotherapy since many of its theories cannot be falsified, just like conspiracy theories. The ideas of Freud or Reich are questionable, and I´m by far not the only person to question them. I´m not completely off with the things I say about them. The problem is that I say them coming from a place of deep paranoia. I have voices in my head which interpret my thoughts, feelings and behaviors in a particularly cruel, pseudo-therapeutical fashion (though these voices are informed by what I read and experienced), and I have yet another voice in my head that tells me all this is what should happen to me.

What I feel when I write things like these is deep demotivation. So I´m merely crazy after all. And without some kind of mania my life is incredibly empty. I wrote that two days ago, how empty my life must have been for me to have a vision about the future, slip on another identity and forsake everything. It would be sane to go through with my plans. It would be sane to get a job that binds most of my intellectual capacities so I don´t have too much time to ruminate. It would be sane to get a job that forces me to work scientifically, that gains me recognition and a fair amount of money. It would not just look sane, it would keep me sane. I was my most sane when I was at school. It was always during the summer holidays that the breakdowns came. I need some outside structure that forces me to stay out of the twilight zone for eight hours at least. And yet recognizing how crazy I am deprives me of all motivation. Get a job just so I´m NOT myself? If I´m so bad, then why bother exist?


Again, madness is not myself, madness is not who I am. I´m defending something I´m not. The feelings I have because of my visions are part of who I am, but it is normal to respond with rage to the content of my visions. The visions themselves are something crazy, but my reaction is quite healthy and where ever I encounter such behaviors IRL I´d be a good person for responding with anger. Also, the fact that these visions aren´t real doesn´t mean anything that happened to me with Dr. Stoneface and Athena wasn´t real.

It´s useless. I cannot comfort myself like this, I don´t believe in it. It matters a damn whole lot just how crazy I am. If I´m completely nuts, if my perception was always distorted by such visions and voices and expectations, then maybe anything they ever did was brought onto me by myself.


Rage. Rage again, because I feel threatened and helpless again. I know no way out of this. All that might happen is that other visions, daydreams come to my aid, that a voice says: “Don´t worry, we´ll kill you!” That would be so damn nice of you, you have no idea. But that, too, is just a result of this inner tension. It is another outpouring of rage. Saying this doesn´t change anything, though.

Distraction, feeling like I can see through things, that´s the only thing that helps. Maybe my feeling in analogies is just the only way I can express my visions? I don´t know, I´m getting so tired.

I wonder if I should ask others what they think of my state. I feel like I need to keep it together in front of everyone IRL, because they cannot afford looking at me as a crazy person who needs help, for one reason or the other. They don´t want to lose me to a world of pills, institutions and big psychiatric terms. It should move me, but right now it only burdens me. And I cannot even be sure if that´s a realistic prediction based on experience and empathy, or if it´s just my paranoia speaking.


Embitterment, another tangible feeling, thank fuck. I´m tired of believing I´m crazy, I´m tired of visions of my own mental and intellectual deconstruction, I´m tired of ruminating, I´m tired of feeling attacked, I´m tired of BEING attacked in my visions, I´m tired of having no one to blame, I´m tired of having no one whose head I can bash in for this, I´m tired of being conscious of myself, I´m tired of myself, I´m tired of almost everything and remarkably enough some small little things can still make me want to live for another few days, weeks, maybe months. Overall, though, I wouldn´t mind to take a hammer and demolish all that I am.







Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: