The worst of it, for me, were three things. The ambivalent doctors prescribing ambien (or zyprexa in my case, but we all know they gotta knock people out somehow), the lady who woke me up the 2nd night, screaming for Jesus to take her, or the massive amount of times I thought, for a brief moment, that I had woken up as someone else and didn't have to live as me anymore.
When everything is a coincidence, life becomes incredibly hard to sustain. Just earlier I... man, talking about this shit has sucked. But communication is important. I'ma try to give an example as to what would happen in my head that would allow my psychosis.
Okay, so earlier I was writing up a long reply to /u/firewerx and I made sure to give it a look over, not only do I love writing well (prose is the only way to go, imo) but I'll be honest, one of the things I've found to pride myself in is my writing. I can really hear myself after I read my typed words. It's an incredibly calming sensation.
One. Missed. Word. Piece. I spelled it peace. Peace of data. Piece of data. Right now the music I'm listening to just kicked in, about 1:30 into Bless This Morning Year by Helios. I can feel myself try to link connections. "There's gotta be something here." I can feel it. "Something about these coincidences I feel." The Synchronicity.
The reason the word Piece gives me so much trouble is, during my break, I had become obsessed with my inability to understand math. I'm so terrible at remembering equations, though I can remember how to spell just about every word I know. Specifically, I kept attempting to think about imagined patterns and analogizing them to life. I'd create a pattern in the air with my finger and then just freestyle some bullshit as to how it could relate to my life.
I had told this to a few people, and most just said 'sure'. But it meant so much to me at the time. Eventually I "figured it out" that whenever I was on to something big, something that'll let me understand everything about this world, an electronic device would glitch on me. That misspelling I had earlier, that would be a proper candidate or 'trigger' to cause me to start thinking manically again.
I obviously have better control over it, but it gets to me. Especially when I start bringing this shit up. Especially when I smoke some dro. Which I have and do because it makes me feel amazing and it stops my appetite which was getting out of control again. Gained 15lbs in the last two months cause it's winter (can't ride my bike as much) and I'm fucking poor (priorities, can't smoke with no cash). Way better AND CHEAPER than that $300 a month zyprexa buuuuullshit. Working out and communicating my story is way better medicine.
Sorry for going off like that. I'm not gonna proofread this, lol. Too tired. Glad you're better, breakbuddy. You're a good pensieve.