2 days after depot

I feel 50% better since yesterday’s sore throat. I partly attribute this to the amount of vaccines I’ve received. I’ve had my yearly flu shot, and I’ve been triple vaxxed against Covid.

I am now taking 3mg paliperidone tablets on top of my 150mg Invega Sustenna Depot injection. This is so that I can better control mania associated with my schizoaffective disorder, so I am not yelling to myself too much nor annoying women in my life too much.

I specially asked the GP for extra tablets. These tablets had already been recommended by my psychiatrist a year ago.

I feel I should get used to a lot of medications, so I learn to deal with increased appetite associated with heavy medicating. That is what the government will do to me if I end up in mental health jail.

God bless this world

I feel some relief, knowing I will ask for more medications for my schizoaffective disorder. I wasn’t feeling too good in the morning, and I wanted to rant and rave as I walked up the road to get fish and chips.

I suppose, God has given us the fruit of the ground, the plants of the earth, to carve remedies for various ailments. So I should make use of the benefits of anti-psychotics, particularly when I’m not humble enough to control myself.

I go to the depot in an hour, and will ask the doctor for more meds. God bless this world.

Forgive me, oh God

I have sins which I can’t mention on this blog. Sometimes I want to slit my wrists because I don’t want to deal with this addiction anymore.

I am a vcel. It means voluntary celibate. But I struggle to be pure. I really wish the Lord would save me. But only the abyss answers my prayers.

Thank you all the readers who read my blog. I will go for my depot tomorrow, and will try to ask for more medication. I will try to starve myself, so I don’t gain too much weight.

God bless all of you.

Disabilities

The feels. Most of the time, I hurt in the feels.

I struggle to make new friends, because I receive social rejection once people find out I’m a schizophrenic on a pension.

So, life is boring. It’s 2 days away from my mandatory government injection of anti-psychotic medication.

Pretty dismal…

Oh well…

Calm the raging storm

It was too crowded at the shopping mall today! I really wish I had stayed home. My narcissism flared up, all because of reasons that are too embarrassing to mention.

I get angry over insignificant things. Social rejection is ok, it saves me from having to know the other person, who might be bad natured, after all!

I must develop more humility with regards to being unpopular. Well, not unpopular, but ignored and shunned. I don’t make new friends easily, as I am too depressing.

I don’t think I can make a new friend, as I am not upbeat. Sometimes, I wish I had cool things to say. Maybe if I put my head up my behind, I’ll act cool. LOL.

Whatever happens, I shouldn’t say the first thing that comes to my mind. I should always ask about that other person, rather than say how boring my life is.

I wish I had a brain that knew which topics to talk about….

10 days after my depot

I feel depressed. It is 4:30am in the morning and the morning is very chilly here in Australia.

I worry that the world will escalate into a global war, due to the lack of humility of a few of the most powerful countries’ leaders.

I try to be humble, but sometimes, I want to lash out.

I pray for Australia, and other countries as well, that there may not be a global conflict.

But God is closing the gate of mercy on all of us, and we may well yet see the fruit of our sins….

Before and after my diagnosis

From a young age, I knew something was wrong with me. I started having prodromal symptoms of schizophrenia from at least grade 5. That was back in 2000. Camps were nightmares back in 2000 and 2001. I would hallucinate the other children picking on me in school, even though they didn’t hate me. They hated me after I bullied them for imagined offenses against me. It was all my fault.

I was relating to my father that I hated the hokey pokey because it reminded me of the camps I hated in 2000 and 2001 that I went to because the students were forced to go on these camps back when I was in grade 5 and 6. Luckily I missed out camp in 2002 in grade 7, but only because I said my parents couldn’t afford it. My mum was upset when I said that I said that to the teacher. She didn’t like the teachers thinking my family was disadvantaged.

We weren’t poor, I just didn’t want to go on camp, because I was hallucinating that the other kids were bullying me. But they weren’t, I just needed to of entered the mental health system at a young age.

I prefer the macarena, as it reminds me of the camp I had mania at back in 2005. I was grade 10 by then. The illness had changed from plain hallucinations to hallucinations and bipolar elements. But, even worse than hallucinating people abusing me in 2000 and 2001, in 2005 I hallucinated that people were praising me. That’s why the camps I went to in 2005 were heaven on earth. I went on 3 of those camps.

But by 2006 the voices started abusing me, they abused me so much that I had my first suicide attempt by overdosing on sleeping tablets. I was first put on medication in the kiddy’s mental hospital. But I only recovered down the line when I had shock therapy. The psychiatrists of the child mental hospital didn’t even give me shock therapy when I badly needed it!

I knew things were wrong with me. In 2003 in grade 8 I was doing rowing and tennis. By 2004 in grade 9 I was on holiday with my parents up in north Queensland, where I made a promise to kill myself before my 18th birthday! Fancy that! Being on holiday and plotting suicide! I really didn’t want to live to see the future of the world, and even more my own future.

So my illness went in cycles. 2000 and 2001 I was depressed, 2002 and 2003 I was manic, 2004 I was depressed, 2005 I was manic, then 2006 I finally got some sort of treatment. Life is horrible with untreated mental illness. I don’t understand why I didn’t go into hospital in 2008 when I was an adult to get shock therapy. Guess lack of insight is the way the illness goes….

Oh, before I close this article, I remember I was attracted to a lady in grade 12 on the camp in 2005 during the winter in Brisbane. The camp was at Queensland Camping and Conference Centre Mapleton. She put her head on my shoulder in the meeting hall during the last day of the camp. Nobody kissed others on the camp, even though some were in relationships with others at the camp.

So, I was 16 on that camp in 2005, since I was kept down, I should of been in grade 11, so she wasn’t kept down, so, all things considered, she would of been 1 year older than me. So she’d be 34 by now, as I’ll be 33 this year. She probably had a child by now. She probably is happily married to someone else.

I would go on a camp with people my age, just the problem is, most of the ladies would be married, so I couldn’t hug them and be close to them, as a 34 yo lady’s husband would kill me. Such is the struggle of being a leftover man. Not that I am marriage material. I have no job, I live on a pension, I can’t drive, I am 3 out of 10 in looks, even when I was skinny I would only be a 5 out of 10 guy. So yeah, women are very happy when I practise celibacy and don’t bother them. lol

YouTube

I must admit, I admire the mini celebrity Hamza. He did a public apology to a fellow YouTuber named Sneako. He was talking about humility. I was impressed by his advocation of the virtue of humility.

I must admit, as much as I like to think I’m humble, I am actually not humble. I don’t do much with my life. If I was humble, I’d be involved in my community a lot more.

Being humble is a struggle. It was easier to do it in group chat because the praise of others would fuel my desire to accept being insulted. Usually, when somebody abuses me in real, there is nobody to defend me, so only God sees my humility. But I don’t see God.

I wish I did live for God, but it is not true, I don’t live for God. I live for self. I wish I could repent, but I am not motivated to put in the effort to repent. Maybe if reincarnation is true, better luck next life. But something in me testifies to the permanence of hell in the next life.

1st day of winter

It isn’t really that cold for the first day of winter in Brisbane. I am only wearing a shirt and pants. Yesterday was colder, I was wearing a jumper all day, except when I went to sleep. Funny weather. Our weather is almost as bad as Longreach weather. In Longreach, the summers are hot like 40 degrees Celsius hot and you don’t get any relief at night. But in the winter, the day time temperatures are like 28 degrees and at night, it goes below 4 degrees. That’s pretty cold at night. Brisbane is much more temperate.

I got invited to play tennis with my cousin. I look forward to it. I don’t think I stink too much. I have urinary dribble, probably because I’m just too fat. So it makes my pants stink after 2 days of wearing them.

It is socially embarrassing when I stink at english conversation group, where there are a lot of women. It is worse when I stink on the bus, as the other passengers can’t run away from my stench, until they get off at the next stop. Such is my sloppiness of dress, which is a symptom of my schizophrenia.

I make sure I always take my medication. I don’t want to fully let myself go. Because if I stink, I make people nauseous. I apologize to all the people I’ve stunk out before.

I wish there was a vocational purpose to my life. But I think my purpose is to repent, as St Isaac the Syrian says, ‘This life has been given to you for repentance. Do not waste it in vain pursuits.’ I sure wish I had more contact with Jesus.

5 days before my next depot

It is a cool night. I feel cold and alone in my soul. I went out to the library today. Apart from that, I played computer games most of the time. I had pizza slices at a kebab place near the library for lunch today.

There is so much luxury food items in today’s shopping malls. The book I was reading today called ‘Unseen Warfare’ was written in a time when it was hard to get luxuries. So I can not imagine living without coffee, sugar, chocolate, computer games, and coffee milk! I need them to lift up my emotions a little.

I am not ascetic. I try self-denial in the form of not correcting others harshly. I know what it is like to be corrected and rebuked. It is not a pleasant experience. Therefore, I attempt to be nice to everybody I know.

My mom’s friend said that 95% of what we said we’ve said before and only 5% of what we say is new information. I am full of repetitive garbage. As me and dad were coming home from Coles at night, I related to him information I learnt from YouTube about a homeless woman in Japan. I also said this same information to my support worker a day earlier.

I wish I was an original content creator. I mean, at least creative in my thoughts. But most of my blog, and what I say, is recycled information. It would be worse if I wasn’t on medication, as I wouldn’t be able to focus and stay on topic, but would jump around everywhere in my topics of conversation. I wouldn’t say anything relevant. Such is the severity of my sickness.

I was playing Borderlands 2 just now. I was trying to come across Eridium in the game. It is used for character upgrades. I am glad for the luxury of computer games. I am glad I have money to buy food and pay bills. Even though I am cold and lonely, and my life feels empty, life is good.