Life as a serious case

I just got diagnosed with my fourth mental illness: OCD. That's on top of Schizophrenia, Bipolar, and PTSD. I've been to inpatient 14 times. I have a hard time keeping track of reality, and I've been given a nice apartment with an art studio, and SSDI.

I had a dream last night that my dad drove me to Mexico. He has a head injury. Mexico was scary. We ordered drinks. The hotel was tidy, and the bar was trying to have a fun atmosphere, but everyone was trying to figure out if they should harm us. I was kind of escorting my dad the whole time. They were trying to get us drunk. The cartel ran the whole place. I told my dad we had to leave. I woke up and wrote pages about it. How I'm afraid of the system. I've been to seven schools in the same city. I feel like I'm still two years old, when my dad got struck and had to relearn everything, then my mom developed a psychosis in response, then they had a violent divorce, all in the same year.

My best friend called me a god. Which is part of my malfunction. Rather than being a person, I want to be a god. Having to figure out the different schools I went to, with my numbness and unresolved trauma, caused me to focus on certain dynamics in terms of human rules, and how to resist and have my own space. I was invited to college when I was twelve because of my test scores. I've practiced mysticism for ten years (31 now) and I experience real signs at my command. I even have an alien abduction experience. I've read about 350 nonfiction books in my adult life. I flip out when I see people and have to be careful around knives. I nicely tell people if I trust them.

When I moved to my great new apartment on a higher floor, I had to try hard every day not to jump out the window until I got used to it. It's nice to have diagnoses so I can at least allude to what I'm going through so I can vent. I get afraid I'm the worst of the worst sometimes. Every day is hard for me. The criminals at my last few buildings liked me, as I've been part of that life since I was 13. I had too high of a profile, got paranoid, so now I live in quiet. Every day is a confusing struggle, and I tend not to do much so that I don't get overwhelmed, but sometimes I can paint portraits or landscapes. I recently met a significant other, but I shared my troubled past with her, and it was too much for her to deal with because she's dealing with serious abuse trauma with borderline and bipolar. We left on good terms, as friends, but it's ugly to me. I'm just happy to have met her. The last girlfriend I had immediately wanted to have kids, with her schizophrenia, and it was too much for me.

I'll have to see how my life goes. Some dangerous people probably hate me, even though I try to help. I'm spending lots of time with family, and mitigating the danger of my lifestyle. It just seems like some people want to have something to read, and need some hope maybe. You'll know when you need to save your life. Pain is kind of the process. Always be thinking of solutions, or else meditate or whatever you want to do, but control your mind in some way, and try to have an impact on other people's lives. Don't be too strict with yourself. Don't buy into the painful game of dumb, painful, normal, judgemental reality. I'm a really bad mental case, but a reader, writer, painter, and entertainer, and I'll keep doing it for as long as I can.

Thanks for reading, and best wishes.