Off Topic: Things Nineties Babies Adore

1. Rugrats

2. Tamagotchi

3. Polly Pocket and Mighty Mike

4.  All That (and a bag of chips)

5. Going to McDonalds hoping to get one of these, Beanie Babies, because it was the Fair way of collecting them

6. LiteBrites

7. RECESS

8. Snap Bracelets kept you entertained for hours

9. So would a 3D View Master

10. Barbie Karaoke Machines

11. Berenstain Bears. Enough said

12. SATURDAY MORNING LOONEY TUNES!

13. Being cool because you had a Walkman

14. The Amanda Show

15.  The Saddle Club

16. Power Rangers Zorgs

17. Super Nintendo (SNES), PS1, or Gameboy

18. Spending more time outside than in during summer, and owning one of these.

19. Waterful Ring-Toss

20. Trollz

21. MoonShoes

22. Hey! Arnold

23. Not only owning these (and keeping them organized by how rare they were) but knowing how to play and watching the TV show to determine a card's ultimate value by battles won or lost

24. Etch-A-Sketch

25. The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air

Smile and Share this if you wanted/owned/bought for your kids/bought for someone of the opposite gender/remember these

Peace, Love and Bulletproof Marshmallows

Ronnie

Happy Birthday Darling

So many things come and go away... so many beautiful lessons are so hard to learn. Pain makes you stronger, Pressure makes you more efficient, Stress makes you durable. But today... today all of these things make me question the point in my sobriety, why exactly am I holding out like this? I have a son who deserves me as a sober mother, who deserves to know me. But I fear it may already be too late. I fear it may just be that I won't win at this. Maybe I'm too far gone, maybe I am too badly broken. Maybe... maybe I need to give up and lay down the sword and take up the whetstone instead. Perhaps I am not meant to be a parent. Just as I will never have an animal of my own, because they always find their forever families with through me; maybe I am meant to bear other people's babies, maybe I will never know the pure joy of being called mommy. Maybe I won't know who I am because there are too many parts of me fractured in too many places. Where am I even going with this.

Happy Birthday to my son, who is a year old today... oh my boy. I have learned to love through you. You taught me how to smile through the tears, and how to laugh at myself. You showed me how to hold on when it hurts so much my body won't respond. You helped me find my center and reminded me how to pray. Oh my son... you deserve so much more than the life you've been given so far. I know you'd walk through this with me for the sake of being with me in the end, and oh how I pray this will end soon so we can move on with our lives. Be good today and enjoy the first of many celebrations to come... Meanwhile I will try to survive another special day, your special day, without you.

Love, your Mother.


Well, here's to hoping I get my life back soon...




Peace, Love and Bulletproof Marshmallows

Ronnie

It Was A Breakthrough

So yesterday was a total breakthrough for me.

I have spent the last week with my (chosen) brother and his wife, and might I say I love those two people with all that I have in me.

Yesterday, my brother called me on something I was not even aware was happening. I was looking at concert tickets for a band I really, truly love and desperately wish to see. I was talking about how my family would likely purchase tickets for me if I asked them to, and how they give me practically anything I ask for.

He called me on keeping them at arms length, and not giving them the love and respect they deserve for the lengths they have gone to, to try to make my life better.

He was right, and what followed was an argument about being alone as a kid, and being hurt and lost and disconnected, and not wanting to let them have the opportunity to fuck up again. But he was right.

After two hours I called them and apologized for pushing them away and thanked them for the lengths they've gone to.

Breakthrough.

Lost and Afraid, Alas All Is Well

So, I have not posted over the last 3 days due to being off my meds and trying to handle stress testing to boot with it. I made it through the event relatively unscathed. My family made honest attempts to help me through varying levels of psychosis. I know that if I hadn't been staying with them things could likely have been much worse. But, I know all is well. Meeting with my sponsor today to try to process things down and understand what I have just gone through. Coping skills to use here would probably be talking it out with someone I trust, checking my body for injuries to convince myself that I am not hurt in any way, and writing down what is going on in my head. My symptoms have been, expectedly, aggravated. Again, I am okay with that because I am somewhere safe. So, I guess for now all is well that ends wells.

Peace, Love, and Bulletproof Marshmallows

Ronnie

You know, sometimes being Schizophrenic means losing that chance to be friends, or even to be more. Mostly because you are too afraid of hurting them, terrified of losing control.
I don't know how not to be this way

Helloooo Creativity.

I decided not to post this along with my spider-rant... ugh I hate spiders...

(To the tune of  "For the First Time in Forever" from Frozen, if you wanna follow along with my brain)

There's something wrong here, 

yes I'd say... 

all of these voices 

just won't go away. 

Who knows just how much pressure I can take? 

For years I've tried to just stay sane, 

fighting the demons in my brain... 

convinced they all want me to go away! 

I have actual real-live people, 

who love me just the same, 

but deep inside I fear it's all a game! 

But for the first time in forever, 

I've got meds, I've got love. 

For the first time in forever, 

I'm aware I'm not alone. 

Don't know if I'm insane yet, 

because they're still right here by my side! 

But for the first time in forever, 

I really am alright. 

I can't believe they love me... oh!

What if they're actually staying?

I can't imagine that life at all

friends that don't leave when I hit the wall

people who really love me just for me!

But now it seems they're all right here

willing to help me face my fears

They mean it when they say I'll be okay

But then the voices come around

and a sudden panic's gaining ground

Because it seems this always ends the same...

But for the first time in forever

my family understands

For the first time in forever

they're here, holding my hand

And I know that this is foreign

to be counted among them all

But for the first time in forever

they hear me when I call

Don't let them in...

Don't let them see...

Keep your distance

stay away from me...

Conceal

Not real...

I know it isn't so...

But I still fear

they'll all just up and go

But this love isn't the same

It's real, it's not a game

So I'll do my best

to let them see my pain

Cause for the first time in forever

They really want to help (Don't let them in, don't let them see)

They're really in for this ride (Keep your distance, stay away from me)

I know I could lose it (Conceal...)

by pushing them away (Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know...)

But for the first time in forever...

For the first time in forever

I really think I'll be okay.

Yeah

That was as cheesy as it looked on paper. Now I'm going to have to record it. Haha

Peace, Love, and Bulletproof Marshmallows

Ronnie

Along Came a Spider

So, last night I saw a spider. This one was real, and was promptly removed from my bedroom (aka the Isolation Chamber) due to my severe arachnophobia. However, all is not well. I spent the grand majority of today trembling due to hallucinations of spiders crawling everywhere. I managed to take my meds on time, though we are all aware that sometimes med just do not work the way we think they should, or even the way they really should work. Sometimes this shit happens. So, today I dealt with my hallucinations by isolating and trying to focus on other things. So this was a bad day on the front lines of this battle. I could have coped better.

Things to try next time I have a bad day

1. go to the art room and work with clay
2. Listen to Emilie Autumn, her music helps quiet things for me
3. Call someone this time, not just texting.

Peace, Love and Bulletproof Marshmallows


Ronnie

Fear and Clinging

There are times, in my day-to-day journey when I find myself unable to differentiate the hallucination from the real, tangible world. What my mind's eye lays before me becomes so clear and authentic that I am entirely inclined to, and often do, believe they are all too real. Maybe it is the desert sun, or my period, talking here, but most times I don't really want them to go away. For the most part they are my guides, my protectors. Mostly... but there are times when suddenly they become violent and frightening. It is these times when I most fear going into public places, for fear of that one wrong move that may permanently label me a psychotic, thus removing my humanity in the eyes of the world. That is my greatest fear, to lose what little of a sense of humanity I have left. So when the fear sets in I run away from people and try to get back to a sense of normalcy. It is the root of all of my pain.

The Voices Came From The Television.

So, let's face it. Psychosis happens. No matter how often you take your medication, no matter how perfectly you keep to routine and comfortable settings, sometimes it just happens. Sitting in the bedroom listening to the TV ramble on in the living room, suddenly the voices from out there morph into familiar voices of my older brother and sister laughing loudly about a plot to tear me down and cause me to commit suicide. This makes me shake with fear and discomfort. Logically I am aware that my siblings are 3 hours away from here and that they couldn't possibly be on the television, they aren't that social. Nevertheless I pace my bedroom floor, convinced by what I hear, for about 20 minutes before I realize that I am in a state of psychosis. Once I have reasoned this, and confirmed it by stepping into the living room, I take my medication (it's time for it anyways) and I pick up the phone. I call my Sister's phone and talk to both of them, and sure enough they are happy as ever to hear from me and are excited to hear that I am going to be back in their part of the state soon. All is well and my paranoia is sated for the time being. We can only ever hope it stays that way.

What Is This... Who Am I?

Some are cursed to walk the streets, completely unaware of themselves, and some are unaware of others. Many, many a time those of my kind, of our kind, suffer both the same time. I am a socialite among myself alone. I walk empty, vast pathways in a city you will never visit. Forever entangled in vast social complexities beyond most average individuals involvement without ever escaping beyond my own front door. A life so clandestinely diverse, with all the dangers and trappings of true society without ever making an acquaintance, and often more violent and admirable than anything society could offer us. These various interpersonal encounters with selves beyond my own self, demons solely created for the workings and makings of my mind alone, never to be shared in their magnificent intelligence and frightening dominion over all that may have once been mine. Of course, I know "real" people, and I may even love them; but none have ever been so perfectly close than this world you'll never imagine, and never visit. I am completely contained inside the walls of my own mind, and the vastness of my imagination, as well as that of the voices that lead me on my way. For I am alone, isolated, a perfect socialite. I understand the politics of my society, and I know the cultural way more founded than any a man could ever wish to be from any other nationality. This is my mind, my voices, my world; and however much I may enjoy you, you cannot be invited without total consensus of the governing powers at hand. It is a terrible fear to live here, as honestly alone as I am. It is scary to do this alone. How many times I have had to lie, instead of explain that it was not I that dug that razor in so far, but that it was I screaming for help - choked off by demons no one else will ever encounter. To tremble as I pull my hands away from your neck just in time to breathe the words "I love you, I'm sorry" only to retreat to as far from you as I can get; or worse - having to apologize for not "coming to" in time to stop myself from hurting you. You may think me a desperate recluse... terrified of you and everyone else. How wrong you are, my friend, for what I fear - what drives me to hide from you, who I may love dearly - is within the confines of the space between my ears. How many times will I awaken to voices outside my door, voices of my dearest loved ones, speaking horrible things of my failures and starting beguiling rumors - only to open the door to an empty room? Nightly. Yes, I fight my war alone. I walk in these shadows while my face is bathed in the summer sunlight - I cannot feel it. I walk on eggshells to please my abusers, and though they beat me, and break me on a regular basis you will never see a bruise, no dark sunglasses, no long shirts in hot weather. For I am bruised to keep them away from you. This is my High Society, my Divine Education. I am a beautiful mind and a perfect socialite, and I never even have to crawl out of bed to experience it. In fact, I experience most brilliantly and terrifyingly before I ever attempt to meet the day.

See? My Brain IS TOO Wired Differently!

Parenting Woes #1: What Other People Think About My Choices.

Most specifically my biological family. I am certainly not one to care what they really think, but sometimes, when you cannot run away, it sucks to have to hear it. I chose not to circumcise my son. There are of plenty of good reasons. One, the Gods would not have given him a foreskin if it were meant to be taken away. Two, the penis is an INTERNAL ORGAN not an appendage, externalizing it causes nerve sensitivity to be drastically reduced, which means sex WON'T feel as good as for uncircumcised men. Three, why the FUCK would I put my infant through that horrid procedure anyways? Bullshit it doesn't hurt. How would you women like it if they started cutting our clitoral hoods off? It is the same concept. So yes, my son is uncircumcised, and I am proud of it.

My family, however, has voiced that they are very disappointed in me for this choice. They seem to find me to be wrong and unbalanced because I refuse to cut off a part of my son's body that isn't going to kill him, infact may help him live longer and have healthier children. His father wasn't circumcised and he is an amazing kiddo.

Sometimes this really aggravates my Schizophrenia. I start having those same frightening thoughts, then I just plug my music in and try to drown it all out. Usually it works.

For grandparents out there: Do NOT question your daughter on her choice to keep her son intact.

Peace, Love and Bulletproof Marshmallows

Ronnie

iSchizophrenia: An Autobiographical Novel Idea

Hi, I go by Ronnie. It is one in a long list of names I have taken. Of course, this comes from never having the sense that any one name really was mine. If I didn't belong to the people who gave it to me, who was I?

This is my story about my struggle with Schizophrenia and Disassociative Fugue Disorder.

In the posts to come, which I hope you may be getting help from, you will delve into my private places and hear my real thoughts. You will walk through my fear, my pain, my hopes and dreams, everything. And perhaps, you might find something that helps you too. Of course I'll regularly post science and medical studies regarding both disorders, medications and other treatments. And when you read, I hope you feel enlightened. Schizophrenics are NOT crazy. Our brains do something different and often frightening. More often than not we are EXTREMELY intelligent, and can solve most problems quickly. So if you are a Fugue patient, or a Schizophrenic be aware - This author is with you, not about you. So read on.

Peace, Love and Bulletproof Marshmallows

Ronnie