Randomly Consistent

I have a hard time remembering what I was just going to say.

It’s like my brain just stops.

Or backtracks.

And I go completely blank.

A lot of times it never comes back to me.

But sometimes I can recall it.

If someone is helping me.

My therapist is used to this from me now.

She responds so calmly and kindly.

And gently puts reminders out of what we were just talking about.

Sometimes it comes back.

Sometimes it doesn’t.

But she doesn’t make it a thing.

She tells me that it’s okay.

And that it just happens.

And that’s normal for what I’m dealing with.

My caseworker is getting better at prompting me too.

Reminding me of what I was just saying.

And not making a big deal out of it at all.

Because it does happen often to me.

Especially when I’m attempting to really focus.

Or if I’m stressed.

Or if I’m trying to get a specific thought out.

It’s like my ability to think implodes.

And thoughts just vanish.

Gone.

Just fucking gone.

When I can’t grasp them again.

It feels like I’m staring at a blank chalkboard in my mind.

Like all of the thought maps disappeared.

All of the patterns and word associations are suddenly not there.

A lot of times they’re completely gone forever.

Sometimes they leave a trail of hints with outside prompting.

And this isn’t like it happens every so often.

It’s much more than once a month or so.

It’s every week.

A few times throughout the week, some weeks.

It’s really randomly consistent.

Sometimes it’s several times within an hour session.

It’s embarrassing sometimes.

Because I have no idea what was just happening.

I become confused and frustrated.

Mainly with myself.

Because I couldn’t notice these things before.

Because I feel different now.

More different than I ever have.

I feel like I’ve taken steps back a little.

Especially when the voices are loud like they are this week.

I’m glad I get my injection before the weekend.

But it doesn’t completely stop the voices.

They show up quieter.

Less intrusive.

I know that my psychosis symptoms have changed me.

They have changed my core being.

My core sense of self feels almost muffled.

And losing my train of thought all the time isn’t helpful for feeling put together.

It feels like I have wax in my brain.

Things are all separated and semi-chaotic still.

And organized in ways I don’t need them to be.

I looked this up.

This entire concept of consistently losing my train of thought.

The phrase I kept seeing is called thought blocking.

It’s seemingly very common for folks like me with schizophrenia spectrum disorders.

I never understood it when it happened in my past.

And I feel like now that I’m noticing all of these things that I couldn’t see before.

Now I see them all the time.

It’s overwhelming sometimes.

At other times I can catch myself much, much easier than I used to.

It doesn’t bring the thought back.

But it makes it easier to deal with.

It gives me a sense of “this is annoying but okay”.

Instead of “what the fuck is wrong with me”.

I have become very grateful for these moments.

Of being able to understand myself better.

Why I do what I do.

I’m convinced that one of my core issues is confusion.

I still get really confused.

Really easily.

Especially if I have to think under pressure.

Or have to have a quick response time.

I feel like I can’t think that quickly anymore.

This is another change in me that I can see now.

And I’m not necessarily a big fan of it.

I wish I had my quickness back.

But even then, most of the time I was quick to respond.

I reacted, really.

And usually reacted poorly.

Most of the time I wouldn’t hear what others were saying.

Not that I wasn’t listening.

But because my mind feels the urge to maladapt.

To filter through sentences of others with a broken lense.

To discourage growth due to confusion.

And feeling comfortable in chaos.

I never knew I could do what I do today.

Think how I think today.

And be able to reflect the ways I do today.

The deep rooted confusion in me has morphed into a feeling of frustration.

Frustration that I can’t do life without medication.

That I can’t function without weekly therapy sessions.

That I can’t do all of this on my own.

I need help.

And it’s really, really hard for me to admit that I need help.

I think it’s hard for most people.

Especially when dealing with mental health issues.

Because before last year’s hospital visit.

I couldn’t properly discuss my mental illnesses.

I didn’t know where I stopped.

And they started.

I thought we were all one program.

One unit.

But I’m slowly realizing that I’m made up of countless compartments.

That different areas in my mind, and thoughts, are easier to work with than others.

The hallucinations just fuck everything up.

They’re the leaders of the massive amounts of confusion I have.

They relish in it.

And they show up as loud as they can.

Whenever and wherever I am.

They give zero fucks about my well being.

It’s extremely challenging to not believe them.

But the steadier I grow.

The quicker I can convince myself they’re not real.

And the quicker I can hopefully regain my thoughts.

– Keren