u/Bubbly-Oil6623

Example, during psychosis, I believed the moon was some divine force. One day I looked out the window while filming myself doing makeup, and the garbage man took the trash, emptied it in the truck. but when he put it back he put a little bag on the lid.

i ran down to see what it was, and it was this gold moon occult like necklace. i wore it everyday and convinced myself it gave me powers.

i have no idea why this garbage man would gift me a piece of jewelry. i know i was psychotic and it wasn’t giving me powers. but i just can’t wrap my head around why he did this. i know i wasn’t hallucinating cus I have the video of him putting it there.

anyone else have experiences like this??

In 2023 I was 15F, and I was struggling with addiction. I was in and out of psych wards and nothing seemed to be working.

Until, while in a hospital I met my first love (16M). He and I spent as much of our time as we could together. I never knew I could have feelings as strong as I did. We were both very bipolar, on medication, and had just survived attempts.

We bonded, and to this day I have never clicked with someone in that way. I live a state away from him, and so when we got out I wasn’t sure if he would even contact me.

Well he did. And we hit it off again. Soon, he asked me out. And we began dating, devoting all our time together. I planned a visit, and my father drove 4 hours for me to meet him.

As you can imagine, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I was so in love and he was a brilliant person. Extremely talented guitarist, hilarious, genius, and very insane. But the only fly he could hurt, was himself. He would frequently talk about offing himself. But then he started talking about us committing together. He really didn’t mean to sound grim, it was a combination of his illness, angst, and love for me.

When we hung out, the addiction in me slowly creeped back in somehow. I was so high on young love I didn’t even want to use really. I had been relatively sober the whole time we dated. But for some reason, I wanted to do LSD with him. I thought drugs were cool. In fact my world revolved around getting high, so I wanted to include him.

He seemed fascinated by my addiction. Not romanticizing it, but just intrigued. He had only smoked weed before and maybe a few cigs. Some nights we would spend hours on the phone and I’d tell him all my acid stories, or coke endeavors. One time he told me his favorite movie was Requiem For A Dream. I told him I never saw it. (a decision i would later regret.)

Well, after our visit I get home and immediately launch a manic idea. And any bipolar disorder person knows, ideas become reality quick.

We were going to do acid together. It was the perfect drug. Its not lethal, its eye opening, relatively cheap, and it would be a great bonding experience.

Well as the days went on I realized I couldn’t wait till our next visit, we could just get it from our own plugs and do it on the phone. Another decision I will regret.

He talked to a guy who knew a guy, and got someone on telegram. I just went to my regular dealer. 15 a tab, per usual. But somehow, my boyfriend’s guy charged him $60 for 10 tabs of acid. Anyone who has done it should know that is an insane deal. Who even needs 10 tabs? 3 at the most is enough.

But I was so clouded in addiction I didn’t think twice.

It was a Wednesday night. A school night. But we decided to take it anyway. Around 10 pm. I take my 3 gel tabs, he takes 2. We were chatting and joking. An hour goes by and he feels nothing. Then another hour. He asks me something that still rings in my ears to this day.

“Should I take all ten?”

Being manic and high I told him he could.

And I watched him shove the whole sheet under his tongue. Maybe another hour goes by, I have no real sense of time at this point. But I remember him ranting about how I am his world, he will do anything for me, and he has never loved someone so much.

Then he started slurring. And drooling. And laying on the couch staring into the camera. My trip quickly turned into paranoia and anxiety. I was hearing voices and it went south quickly. I just wanted a break from the call to recuperate and be by myself for a few minutes to calm down. I told him I needed to use the bathroom and I would call him back. He said “Don’t leave me baby, don’t leave.” Barely coherent at this point. I assured him I would be right back.

I never saw him again.

I went to the toilet and after, looked in the mirror. Huge mistake. I stood there for maybe minutes, maybe hours. I went back into my room and had the most horrific trip ever.

I began calling him, and calling. And texting. I even emailed his brother. I was seeing demons, police helicopters, walls caving in. I was drenched in sweat, paranoid about him. I was sure I would die that night.

All the sudden its 7 am, and my mom comes in to get me up for school. But I am awake still tweaking. I get to school and he still won’t answer. He obviously isn’t asleep, he has school too. And I am sober enough to get help.

Well, my dad picks me up after I speak to the guidance counselor. Brings me home, and sits me down.

“He’s passed.”

They found him drenched in a pool of water on his back next to the couch.

I went back that same day to the very psych ward I met him in.

They even accidentally put me next to his old room.

I still haven’t recovered. As the years go on I tried to explain his death to myself. Was in fentanyl? Was it his Lithium and the LSD mixed causing Serotonin syndrome or seizures? Was it just taking all 10 that did it? I will never get answers. And I feel like a murderer. And on top of this, it is such a terrifying way to pass. He must’ve went through absolute psychological torture in his last hours.

Anyway, I just needed to vent. Its been over 3 years and I think about him daily. Any comments or suggestions are welcome.

EDIT: all the people saying this is AI, i wish it was. this is my life and i don’t need to prove my trauma to you. all the people leaving kind insight, thank you deeply. many of you made me tear up and reading comments was more therapeutic than i anticipated. also i am sober and have stayed out of hospitals for 2 years now.

I am an 18F. Since a baby I have been creative. I am pretty good at drawing. I do portraits a lot. And my father who is a narcissist was always encouraging my talent. He’d hang up my drawings in his office at work, was constantly praising me in front of others…. sometimes promising his clients that I didn’t know, I would do drawings for them. But I was a child, I didn’t know anatomy or shading. But he would always look at my drawings and critique them like it was being submitted to a gallery. The constant pressure made me better. But I still felt not good enough.

At around 14, I got a guitar. I was beyond shit. But my dad did the same thing, praising me. Buying whatever I needed. Posting on facebook about it. It never really clicked that it wasn’t because he was proud of me, but he was proud of himself for having a child he could show off.

Last year I started taking it more seriously, learning chords and practicing regularly. Now as a hobby I write my own songs and play along. But something changed. I just do it in my room for fun, not with the dream of being a rockstar (like I used to) or sharing videos for him to post.

And for some reason, when I am singing and playing around him he ALWAYS finds a way to try and one up or distract me.

He enters this frenzy of running around and “cleaning” the house, shaming me for “messes” or trivial things. Or interrupts me to say I should go work out and lose weight. He won’t even speak to me or encourage me to play like he used to when I was bad at it. He just sulks and cleans.

Every time I sing and play he chimes in “wow, you’re really hitting the notes, i remember before I wasn’t gonna say anything…. im not a singer but… i can tell you used to be out of tune… now its better”

its always back handed reminding me of how bad I used to be. Or suggesting when he gets money he could pay for singing lessons.

Its like he cant fathom that I have hobbies and I am not trying to be a rockstar, or his facebook highlight. That I am just good at something and not great, like I am in drawing.

And it is SO frustrating.

Does anyone else experience this? How do you manage it? I know I need to gray rock etc and it seems like not a big deal, but the constant pressure from him to be the best makes me not want to try altogether. And I just wanted to vent.

I am seeing the number 27 everywhere. And its driving me insane.

I am an 18F, and when I turned 17, I started seeing 27 everywhere. I have read another post on this thread of a woman experiencing the same thing, and since it has been going on for months longer than I thought, I felt the need to post this.

About a year ago, I was overworking myself, had a serious ED, and I started feeling off. I started playing guitar, drawing more, I felt super grandiose, but also paranoid. I entered a psychotic delusional state (I have bipolar disorder) and so I understood after I began recovering that my delusions weren’t rooted in reality. But even as I began challenging the psychotic thoughts, one thing remained the same. The number 27. Id be out on a walk, and all the sudden I’d get an urge to check the time. Its 12:27. Or I would turn on the tv, the jersey someone’s wearing is 27 and the camera is zoomed in on it. I would be doing homework, the number 27 is in the problem. I cash someone out, its .27 cents. I know it sounds insane, trust me I know this. And thats why I never told anyone.

At first I felt terrified, I was starting to pursue music and I know of the “27 club” everyone talks about. I was 17, did this mean in 10 years I would die??

I just tried to brush it off as more paranoia. But it didn’t stop. 27 was everywhere. Multiple times a day, then it became every hour. No alarms or anything, I even tried to stay as far away from my phone. But from the moment I woke up it would be 7:27 AM and then I would leave the house at 8:27, then I would stop and check a clock at 9:27. And so on.

It has been a year now. I am at one of the lowest points in my life, and last night I had a horrific dream, and what was the last thing I saw before I woke up? the number 27 written on a staircase.

I just am so so paranoid and confused. It doesn’t help that a few years ago my boyfriend died of a drug overdose on april 26th, and the next day I woke up in a mental hospital on april 27th and was overwhelmed with grief.

Even growing up, the artists I hyperfixated on, just out of curiosity was Kurt cobain, amy whinehouse, jim morrison. Before I even knew about the 27 thing.

I have no idea whats going on.

I am seeing the number 27 everywhere. And its driving me insane.

I am an 18F, and when I turned 17, I started seeing 27 everywhere. I have read another post on this thread of a woman experiencing the same thing, and since it has been going on for months longer than I thought, I felt the need to post this.

About a year ago, I was overworking myself, had a serious ED, and I started feeling off. I started playing guitar, drawing more, I felt super grandiose, but also paranoid. I entered a psychotic delusional state (I have bipolar disorder) and so I understood after I began recovering that my delusions weren’t rooted in reality. But even as I began challenging the psychotic thoughts, one thing remained the same. The number 27. Id be out on a walk, and all the sudden I’d get an urge to check the time. Its 12:27. Or I would turn on the tv, the jersey someone’s wearing is 27 and the camera is zoomed in on it. I would be doing homework, the number 27 is in the problem. I cash someone out, its .27 cents. I know it sounds insane, trust me I know this. And thats why I never told anyone.

At first I felt terrified, I was starting to pursue music and I know of the “27 club” everyone talks about. I was 17, did this mean in 10 years I would die??

I just tried to brush it off as more paranoia. But it didn’t stop. 27 was everywhere. Multiple times a day, then it became every hour. No alarms or anything, I even tried to stay as far away from my phone. But from the moment I woke up it would be 7:27 AM and then I would leave the house at 8:27, then I would stop and check a clock at 9:27. And so on.

It has been a year now. I am at one of the lowest points in my life, and last night I had a horrific dream, and what was the last thing I saw before I woke up? the number 27 written on a staircase.

I just am so so paranoid and confused. It doesn’t help that a few years ago my boyfriend died of a drug overdose on april 26th, and the next day I woke up in a mental hospital on april 27th and was overwhelmed with grief.

Even growing up, the artists I hyperfixated on, just out of curiosity was Kurt cobain, amy whinehouse, jim morrison. Before I even knew about the 27 thing.

I have no idea whats going on.

My cat Roman is a black fluffy cat, and for a couple years now he’s been sticking out his tongue. Recently though, it’s like always out of his mouth. At first I just thought he was cute but now I am worried he could have some dental issue or health problems? Does anyone else’s cats do this? He also frequently gets eye gunks that we just wipe off. It’s daily and it doesn’t seem to bother him, but just thought i’d mention it incase there is a correlation.

Anyway, if anyone else’s cats do this and it’s just a silly habit please feel free to comment. :)

Hi all, I made a post on this sub almost 2 weeks ago. It got taken down cus I posted pics of my extreme weight gain (i didnt read rules mb!) but while it was up I got a lot of advice and pms so I wanted to give an update!

My original post was about gaining 100 pounds in 6 months. To clarify, I had extreme anorexia for months, and after changing environments, i stopped logging meals/over exercising, and developed binge eating disorder.

I would make mug cakes in the middle of the night, eat entire loaves of bread with sugar and butter, and was just constantly thinking about food. Its been a physically painful and mortifying experience and it caused me to essentially drop everything in my life and move countries again! (i know) so i could hide from the world and keep binge eating.

I received a ton of advice and reassurance from people and it made me feel a lot less alone so thanks so much! Firstly, I have started therapy!! Since moving back to America I hadn’t left the house for a month and just last week I left the house for the first time to go to therapy. I have another appointment this Thursday. I am going to talk about the reasons for my eating habits and see if SSRIS or other psych meds will help.

Secondly, I started Wegovy Pill!!!! And let me tell you, it’s been 4 days, and these have been the easiest 4 days I’ve had in YEARS. I just started the 1.5 dose and while there might be some placebo effect, I haven’t binged or thought about it at all. I don’t know if it will stay like this forever, but it’s giving me a lot of motivation and routine which is amazing.

And just some questions for anyone reading, do you have experience with GLP-1s / Wegovy Pill and if so, has anyone tried starting psychiatric meds while on it? I’m obviously going to consult my psychiatrist I just wanted to see if anyone has experience with side effects from combining the two.

Lastly, what does your routine look like on GLP-1s? What do you eat/meal prep?

I don’t wanna jump the gun obviously, its been 4 days lol, but I just wanted to come on here and say thank you so much for all the responses on my last post. I wouldn’t have started therapy without your encouragement.