I’m embarrassed about my behavior in the past.

I know it’s not good to stare into the past, but I gotta learn my patterns somehow – and reflection is good for that.

I was just thinking about all of the pictures I took of random cars and buildings while I thought I was being stalked.

The voices were telling me to take the photos and videos.

So I did.

Most of them are blurry and I can’t understand what exactly it is that I’m looking at.

I had to look on my old iCloud account the other day for pictures of my Grandma for her memorial service next month.

Which is hard enough.

And to get them I had to search through thousands of pictures from my old phone.

I don’t remember how it happened, but I got a new phone and phone number when I left Colorado too and I didn’t really realize that till after the fact.

Shows how fucked my memory is.

Throughout the last couple of years, being in and out of devastating psychotic episodes, I also ended up unfriending a ton of people on Facebook.

I think I unfollowed a lot of folks too.

Like, a lot of people.

It’s so overwhelming I haven’t dealt with it too much yet.

It’s been over a year now.

And I can’t bring myself to look through my friend list to find out who’s missing or whatever.

I just thought everyone was in on the plot against me and working with the CIA.

But I just can’t remember specific shit.

I have no idea who I lost on there.

And that’s embarrassing and makes me sad.

At least I didn’t post much while intensely psychotic.

I tend to pull back from socialization when in psychosis.

Because I know no one will understand what I’m dealing with.

There’s a person I remember calling and having a conversation with while intensely psychotic.

I told her about the cameras and the surveillance on me, and our relationship is now estranged.

It’s frustrating.

It’s sad.

And brings on a feeling of shame for having to deal with all of this shit.

It was frustrating and alienating to surface out of a huge psychosis episode and not be able to recognize much of anything around me.

I’m slowly able to recall some of the things I did.

I know I would pace in front of my building, downtown Denver, panicked about my stalking delusion.

Talking to myself.

Yelling to myself.

Laughing to myself.

Taking random pictures and videos.

I just remember chain smoking and not talking to anyone and pacing.

But even before that huge episode I had for several years in Denver, I had a shit attitude and many maladaptive coping mechanisms.

Most of my friends had checked out from my life by then.

The way I would just explode at people.

The way I would cuss people out.

The crying.

Oh my god the crying.

I don’t blame them.

I haven’t been able to emote much on these new meds, but I prefer that over crying at everything like I used to.

I’d just get so overwhelmed by things and just shut down.

The ways I acted in my life seemed like I was out of control.

And that’s real fucking accurate.

I was out of control.

I didn’t know that at the time though.

At the time I thought it was everyone else’s fault.

They didn’t like my response, or answer.

They did something shitty first.

The tone in which they spoke to me was off.

And besides, I had a ton of mind reading delusions.

I understand now that I’m able to talk to people in a non-accusatory manner.

Like, I’m able to finally take control of my behavior.

I don’t have to just survive anymore.

And I can stop taking everything so fucking personally.

It’s freeing.

Recovery that I never thought was possible is working and it’s fucking thrilling.

I know I’m fighting off ups and downs for the rest of my life, but it’s somehow feeling a little smoother now that I know what I’m up against and working with.

Because when I didn’t, my behavior was horrific.

– Keren