u/kattzkraft

I'm 24. I feel like I'm far too old to still be THIS depressed and suicidal 24/7. There are many times when I thought I could imagine it getting better. I've felt like this for over 12 years. I can't remember the last time I existed while not having a plan to kill myself in the back of my mind. At 21 or so I got diagnosed with schizophrenia, but I had symptoms for many years before that. It's weird. Having this disease feels like a confirmation of what I always knew, that I was never meant to live a long or happy life. I live my days in constant paranoia and fear. Some days aren't too bad but I've been self harming more and more because it makes me feel better.

I've always heard that you're not supposed to constantly feel depression, or paranoia, or constantly want to hurt yourself, or constantly have a plan for suicide. I often wonder what it's like to live that way. Every once in a while I become aware of how messed up I am. I know from an outsider's perspective I am sick in the head and completely hopeless. It's weird to realize that this isn't normal. Some people live their lives hardly experiencing this.

I see my psychiatrist very often and I am on a ton of medications to help my psychosis and paranoia. It hardly helps these days. Therapy helps with the small stuff but no amount of talking and coping mechanisms gets rid of the hallucinations and delusions.

What's it like to not feel this way? I'm trying really hard to stop feeling like this but it's not going well. I'm considering inpatient treatment. I dunno.

I've noticed a lot of my personal friends/loved ones have recently been latching on to the label of "psychotic" as a way to try and relate to me or undermine my own experiences. This is probably a complete nonissue for most of us but it's been happening to me for a little while and I just want to complain.

I understand living with other psychotic disorders like bipolar disorder and bpd can be difficult but it's absolutely nothing like schizophrenia. I sometimes want to tell them that their worst days are nothing compared to even my best days.

They so badly want to tell me they relate because they sometimes feel paranoid that their partner is unfaithful or whatever. Then they have the audacity act like I'm crazy when I tell them that I'm afraid my house is rigged to explode and I need to be extremely careful when moving about. They want to tell me I'm being difficult and dramatic because they think they know all about what it's like to be in psychosis, but they still can't handle my tamest paranoid thoughts.

I can't understand the thought process behind wanting to relate to me just to tell me I'm sick in the head when I actually open up to them.

I live fine when there's not a person trying to belittle me in every way possible. It's really hard but I'm trying really hard too. There's some days when I fully realize that there's something incredibly wrong with me, but I know I've always been messed up and that I will be happy someday anyway. I don't need these people telling me I don't have it as hard as I think or reminding me that I'm disgustingly unwell.

It's already extremely hot where I live and usually I would wear thin shirts with shorts every day but I feel so bad wearing those clothes with fresher scars that are still super purple and very noticeable. I know wearing loose breathable clothes or fishnet tights is a common suggestion to cover up during the summer, but I can't stand wearing anything like that, especially when it gets this hot. I will sweat and the clothes will just cling to my skin and I just can't stand wearing unnecessary clothing when it's hot. It drives me crazy.

A few days ago I went out wearing shorts that showed a couple huge purple scars and a few smaller red ones that are all over a month old. It's very obvious what they are. I even thought about just wearing bandages over them, but I thought the implication of what was under them could be worse than just showing them. I was a little scared before leaving the house, but I kept thinking I didn't need to be ashamed of my body and that I deserved to be comfortable. The problem is that I didn't expect to run into so many kids, which is kinda dumb of me because one of the places sold toys, which I was there to buy. I felt really bad and spent most of my time turned away from people and trying to look around as quickly as possible.

Some people stared at me or made faces at me, but that is normal because I live in a super conservative area. I dress sort of eccentric, I have a haircut with layers and bangs that poor republican men can't handle seeing, I have a septum piercing, my makeup looks a little strange, and I am not white, so people are quite mean to me already, but I might've experienced it a little more than usual that day. I'm not sure. Sometimes I hope that I look so "weird" to them that they end up not even noticing my scars.

I don't know if it's morally right to show them off. I am usually better at making sure I won't have scars that are super red or purple by the time spring and summer come but I had a really hard time the past couple months. I just didn't care about the repercussions. I might just stop leaving the house until they heal more, but I want to know how you all feel about this. My dad and my friends kept reassuring me I had no reason to feel bad.