Return of the Psychosis… Another Sequel?

I have been feeling awful lately. Before all this started I used to think that when you feel bad you can snap out of it, because the bad feeling is “internal”, it’s you who’s feeling bad, not the world around you. Lately though…

Nowadays though I notice that my bad feelings “externalize” themselves. It is horrible, that feeling that the whole world is against you. It feels as if everyone looks at you, every barely audible whisper seems to carry your name, every giggle sounds like humiliation and a blush of embarrassment just creeps up on your cheeks for nothing. Just plain nothing except for your mere existence. It changes your perception so completely, it’s frightening. And the worst thing is… it feels real. No, actually, it IS real.

It is real to me then.

I can write this down now, because it’s not permanent yet. The irrational sense of being haunted, the embarrassment, the senseless fear and the even more senseless need to destroy something… It still dissipates after a few hours, leaving me truly ashamed for breaking down like that. But it’s coming back. The black beast that sleeps inside me is waking up again. I feel like there is a clock ticking in the back of my mind, and I truly wonder how long I have left. How many moments of lucidity?

Yesterday I wrote a suicide note. It scares me now, when I look at it, to read that… despair. It originates from a completely altered perception, it doesn’t even sound like me. It all started in class, suddenly I felt so disgusted by all the people around me, they felt so fake, so futile… And I felt disgusted with myself for holding up a facade and trying to act like them. And the whole world became like… a nightmare, like the ones I used to have when I was little. It felt so wrong, I felt as if I wasn’t a part of the world anymore. And… Right now I can’t really describe the feeling anymore, but it was horrible. I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep forever. I wrote the note and planned on taking all my meds at once when I got home. As you can see, I didn’t.

I know I should speak about this with someone, but I can’t. The psychiatrist won’t see me until November, the snitchy therapist is still scared shitless of me and really, I don’t need her pity, she would only enjoy seeing me break down, and my parents… well, my parents are my parents. They call my illnesses nonsense and say I for one need to grow some backbone and for two that I need to keep in mind what I do to them each time I “act nonsensical”. Experiment Nr 7 is a good listener, but he trusts psychiatry and parenthood way too much for my taste.

The only things that help are pain and fear. I have refrained from cutting for now, but I cane and whip myself more than ever. Nr 7 is a Switch, but not a sadist or a masochist, and he can’t deal with my need to inflict pain for the sake of suffering, either in myself or others. I don’t know how long this “self-help” will be sufficient to keep me lucid. The urges grow stronger together with my weakness of character, it seems. The weaker my mind is, the stronger my need for destruction.

I need help. What must I do?