I was going through a very frustrating and frightening time, I had recently had my 6th baby, the 3rd in less than 3 years when the shrink decided on my first course of medications. I didn’t like this man. Days before I was due to see him the voices appeared warning me he was no good, indeed evil and was trying to poison me.
I was convinced, truly believed this man wanted to poison me, he terrified me. I didn’t want to go to the appointment but my husband was at his wits end with me and I was walking around in some zombie state. I was not living I was existing.
I desperately needed help but was so against seeing this guy, that I set myself up for failure before I even gave him time to try to help me.
I vaguely remember the appointment where we sat staring at each other, I cannot remember the questions fired at me, they always seem to be the same ones thou. I sat there shaking, almost jumping out of my seat when he learned closer to me.
Months later I would read his full report on me and I was seen as appearing agitated, slightly aggressive and upset, yet I made good eye contact. Lots of other medical phrases that don’t make much sense other than I wasn’t completely there.
I never took my bloody eyes off him, he was trying to poison me and I wasn’t letting this guy out of my sights.
As the voice had told me he wanted me to take some tablets he was going to prescribe to me, they would help me, enable me to function and cope better.
No you freak you’re going to poison me I know your game
He wanted me to have weekly appointments with my CPN (Community Psychiatric Nurse) who would monitor me and report back to him and he would see me again in 3 months’ time.
What to see if he had managed to poison me, looser what a twit, like I was going to be taking his tablets
That was it, my fate was decided because of this paranoia incident, medication was going to harm me and to this day I struggle with my medications, I don’t trust anybody or any magic pill, other than the one I take in secret. My dirty little secret is that I self-medicate using Tramadol, sounds crazy but it works for me.
I have recently been honest with the health professionals about my addiction to this drug and they are weaning me off it.
Well they were meant to be trying but I didn’t want to forgot to go back last week for a follow up appointment with the GP and I ignored missed the phone call when they rang earlier today to ask me to make a new appointment.
My world is full of paranoia, it never goes away. While I am working hard at all the things I have learned in Cognitive behavioural therapy and I have learned so much, there are days it still gets the better of me. The world is out to get me and I am not safe.
I understand these are paranoia beliefs and not true, that does not stop me being scared at times. It may well be all there up in my head but to live with it, deal with it and accept it takes a lot of reasoning and self-talking to yourself.
Hearing voices is not as difficult as it used to be; sometimes it offers release from the paranoia, especially when the voices are not bad ones.
But when paranoia begins and the voices rectify that I am in danger the barriers go up and I do become emotional and somewhat edgy. I’m frightened and I react, usually resulting with making myself look an idiot by breaking down in uncontrollable sobbing curled tightly in a ball.
The shrink was trying to poison me and that paranoia is one that I still have to keep in check, even today.