u/Confident_Babe33

I visited the supermarket tonight.
I picked up my raspberries & pineapple, then turned around & came face to face with a beautiful man.

We stood there. Just looking at each other.

Then he said,” Hello.”
I say,” Hi.”
He asked,” How are you?”
I say,” Good.”

And I turned & walked away.

😞

Keeping myself presentable is one way I hope to escape homelessness (employability).

I have no issue attracting people…but meeting someone where there’s a soft, exciting spark is rare. A part of me is kicking myself, hours later…but my pride prevails. I’d rather continue to be a stranger, find my feet & pray to serendipitously meet again when I am in a better situation & then explain.

Can anyone relate?

The people I have known with schizophrenia, including a man I was in a relationship since 2019 until recently, have all had a particular fondness for music.

I have found it is distinctive compared to other people I have met in life, in the sense that often it is their favourite thing in the world & nothing compares to music for peace & contentment (seconded in my experience to physical activity ie. running, yoga, martial arts).

I was just watching an interview with a schizophrenic woman who stated “I like listening to music. I think music is the best” & it struck me as interesting that this theme seems so pervasive.

I was wondering if anybody here feels the same?
Who are your favourite artists? Why?
How does music make you feel/not feel?
Is music important to you when it comes to managing your symptoms & if yes, how so?

He’s eight years younger than me, but I treasure his wisdom. He teaches me in all manner of ways. I tell him he’s my favourite teacher.

Some teachings are because of epiphanies I have had due to separation, but other times he gives me advice & alarming insight into who I am, what I need to work on & what I am capable of.

He encourages me to strive to be…the most that I could be (aligned with Gods purpose for my life).

Through everything (years and years of very beautiful times as well as very dark times), I have finally found my purpose. I couldn’t have arrived here without the impact he has had on my life.

The first time he told me “we need time apart”, I died. But it was magical. I grew so much in this time. When we reunited, I asked him how he knew that separation would be so beneficial. He tells me,” I just knew.”

We have been through this routine many times at this point, so when we separate, I kind of get excited for the ways I am about to elevate.

I am so impressed with him!
Does dm know something I don’t? Or am I just being resilient & optimistic through my suffering? 😅

I feel like this ———>

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ (´◉◞౪◟◉) ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

My panic attacks were so frequent & intense, I struggled with accomplishing basic adult tasks, I couldn’t sleep (anxiety worse at night) & I was routinely presenting at the ER for EKG, sobbing & rocking in the waiting room.

Anxiety is no joke. It is debilitating.
My SSRI transformed my life.
I feel for my sexy anxious ancestors who had to white knuckle it.

I do not like that I am messing with my brain chemistry, but I adore having the ability to function like a “normie”.

When I take my medicine (20mg once daily), I feel dreamy. I feel peaceful, but like I am high, kind of?
It is hard to explain.

So tell me! How does your SSRI make you feel?

My entire graduating class of 2009 was in the living room of my grandmothers house.

It was dusk & I was designing, prepping, cooking & plating their meals as part of my final grade (I left high school & went to culinary school, but not with anybody present).

People kept coming up to me to inform me of new allergies, or critiques, or time frames by which my dishes were due, then they’d tell me they were only joking, or they’d got it wrong, or just laugh at me because messing with me amused them. It was very stressful because I was constantly adjusting my menu, trying to acquire replacement ingredients & adapting to the changing cook times, trusting what they were telling me was true.

They’d ask me why I wasn’t done yet, when the final product was due in half an hour? So I’d race to be done and start setting up to feed people, then I was told,” I can’t believe you thought I was being serious. Has no one told you? It isn’t due until tomorrow. HAHAHAHAHA!”

So I packed up all of the silverware, the plates, and relaxed because I had time to fix things I’d rushed through or add elements I thought I hadn’t had time for. It was night time now. I am stressed as a muthafucka & glistening with sweat from the cooking, the anxiety of not knowing what to believe & taking my work seriously, aspiring for an excellent grade.

Then suddenly the head mistress of this dream school arrived, who really liked me, and another woman, who really did not like me.

I was meticulously slicing capsicum into chiffonade & the woman who did didn’t like me came over & laughed & said,” You’re not done yet? I knew it. I knew you’d never finish in time. HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

I had reached the end of being lied to, messed with, tricked & condescended to.

I smashed a bowl over her head.

Lol.

Any insight?