What is for prazosin taken | | What is this, a subreddit for ants?!?

Not like nightmares, but felt so weird…….
It was like real life/world stuff but still SO different and detached from reality, and these weird feelings…..
At my grandparents with this RIDICULOUSLY long sidewalk, and another was in the house I lived in until I was 18 or 19 (and moved into when I was, I don’t know maybe 7 or 8?) but my current room was somehow in that house, there were some bugs on the wall, other family was there and I went to eat pizza. It must of it was gone……
Oh, and in another dream it was like the grocery store I work in, but a DIFFERENT store (same company) but it was styled more like a convenient store and closing in 10 minutes, and I couldn’t find anything I was looking for, and as employees we hate when customers come in right before closing and still shopping, but I was one of them, and couldn’t even find anything.
And then in another dream (I think the end of the pizza one?) there was like, a nonexistent SpongeBob movie sequel (that thing more elements of a movie or videogame are strangely in the real world, well, real world portrayed by the dream) and then it changed to a Sonic boss bottle.
Very specifically it was mentioned that like (some other game?) the FINAL boss was for some reason, with the boss weakened right after what was really the REALLY final boss…..
Also at some point I saw my real bedroom door open, but fortunately didn’t actually see anything scary, but then it turned out that was a dream too, because I woke up and it was closed.
It kind of upsets me that I get tired and have to sleep, (like everyone does) and then get taken into these strange bizarre nonsense weird wonderlands…..
At least they’re not all nightmares, but even when they’re not nightmares, they usually just feel, not right……
Like my intrusive thoughts and urges feel stronger in the dreams then they do in real life.
I SWEAR I don’t do any psychedelics or other type of drugs like that, I just take four prescription psych meds.
I don’t know if I’ve been in some type of psychosis, or spirits are messing with me, but 7 months ago there I suddenly woke up EXTREMELY TERRIFIED and that’s when this sudden severe “reality shift” happened, and I experienced what most people would consider psychosis (my psychiatrist put me on Prazosin, because it seemed to mostly caused by nightmares).
The worst was for a month, not just nightmares but “psychosis” when awake, terrible delusions of being stuck in dreams and simulations and Hell, and extreme terror and that demonic spirits were trying to possess me (which actually happened when I was 13, really not sure how it could have any other medical or scientific explanation, I’m 28 now btw) but I guess after it faded away after that month things kind of come and go……..
I’m starting to wonder more about what dreams actually are, and if it’s normal for them to be SO VICID AND IMMERSIVE. I SWEAR a few months ago it was like a legitimately went to ANOTHER DIMENSION and even still had temporary amnesia after I woke up.
I could have never imagined it was even possible for anyone to experience ANYTHING LIKE THIS.
Perhaps I completely underestimated psychosis, or it’s actually supernatural/paranormal stuff most people won’t even believe, simulation glitching, anything could be happening really……
All psychiatrists seem to do is say “oh you shouldn’t get an MRI (because I think I might have a brain tumor, I have brain tingling and stabbing feeling sometimes too, and confusion, loss of balance, SO MUCH FATIGUE) because that’ll be SO EXPENSIVE, here’s some more pills to take.”
They just give me more pills, or raise dosages, and it doesn’t fix anything, it might even make things worse.
The ultimate last resort is “praying and pleading to God” but part of this has been feeling and fearing that even if God is real, I have ended up in other worlds that He is not present in and has no access too.
Am I being punished for something I did? I’ve never even been arrested or charged for any crime, what could I have done that was so bad?
And if I’m being punished for what my ancestors did, what kind of God punishes or allows anyone to suffer for OTHER people’s sins????

My doctors want to say it’s fibromyalgia. I am a trans dude with ADHD and autism. I was diagnosed with depression and GAD in the past but I haven’t taken medicine for the in like a year and a half. (Use to be on Zoloft, Wellbutrin, and prazosin but stopped because it didn’t feel like they helped much) I do use testosterone.
Also this is a copy paste convo with some of my friends families from over time so please excuse the use of time markers and such. And I’d be happy to answer anything for clarification. Thank you to anyone that’s reading this.
List of symptoms I’ve recognized: Heart: ⁃ racing heart ⁃ Slowing heart ⁃ Palpitations ⁃ Squeezing
Pain or Discomfort: ⁃ Pins and needles whenever I’m hot, stressed , in pain, or anxious that happen throughout the body. Sometimes my hands and feet and other times (usually the worst) my arms shoulders chest neck back and head ⁃ Uncomfortable throughout the chest and back ⁃ Cant walk much or stand for too long because it will trigger the pins and needles ⁃ Chest, neck, head, wrists, waist, abdomen, back ⁃ Pressure on chest ⁃ Easily fatigued esp throughout the day ⁃ Symptoms hit harder at night ⁃ Itchy after intense pins and needles or heat ⁃ Stiffness in muscles ⁃ Pain specifically in the upper left part of my chest where my heart has constant pressure and squeezing and pain sometimes in the front and back ⁃ Pain in the center of my left ear ⁃ Pain in different parts of my waist ⁃ Pain in my wrists ⁃ Pain at the top of my head and in my left side of my jaw and neck and under my chin
Perception: ⁃ Hypersensitive ⁃ Sensitive to either cold or hot temps ⁃ Hard to concentrate ⁃ Hallucinations during bad episodes ⁃ Tinnitus ⁃ See stars ⁃ Feel heavy dissociative episodes ⁃ Two parts: constant and episodes
Sleep: ⁃ Sleep for super long periods of time or have trouble sleeping or staying asleep ⁃ Wake up with back burning at nights - Waking with panic attacks - Intense Nightmares
Other: ⁃ Sleep apnea ⁃ High blood pressure ⁃ Insulin resistance ⁃ Weight gain since it’s started ⁃ Twitching muscles —————-
I have a constant state I’ve been in that I just am really tired and weak. Very intolerant to any heat whatsoever even when I’m cold and I put a blanket on it triggers the episodes. Dissociated, anxious, hard to concentrate. And my chest feels constantly tight and feels like it’s squeezing. My muscles feel tight constantly.
The episodes are like pins and needles (in the sense of pain not numbness) throughout my entire body but it’s mostly unbearable in my upper body entirely and only gets helped by being colder and sometimes helped when I’m laying down or sitting down. The worst ones I usually have a panic or anxiety attack and it genuinely feels like I’m dying.
So far I’ve recognized it’s triggered by heat, anxiety, stress, any laborious activity including walking.
I can’t walk much anymore and whenever a place has a wheelchair I use it and I constantly need my partner to help me anytime I leave the house.
———-
What I’ve done so far:
December: first time recognizing something is definitely happening. At this point I booked seeing my doctor, but my symptoms were only really the pins and needles happening more often when I’m hot, anxious or stressed. None of the other symptoms were really happening yet.
Saw sleep doctor and scheduled to do sleep tests because I was certain I have sleep apnea. ————————— January: At this point, towards the end of the month, my symptoms were episodic and happened maybe like every other week.
I got to see my doctor. She did a TSH test and they found my levels to be slightly high at a 9.8 so she told me to go see an endocrinologist. And she had did some basic blood tests for my b12, CBC, and to check if I had Covid or an std. the only thing that came back was that my blood is thicker than it should be because of T and told me to see a hematologist. Also referred me to nutritionist to lose weight.
She told me my b12 is lower than usual but non deficient and has me getting b12 shots every month and taking them orally too everyday. She also gave levythyroxine, but I took it one day and I felt extremely horrible since then. And every doctor I’ve talked to told me this is just a coincidence, but since that day, the everyday symptoms have hit and haven’t stop. And only have gotten worse.
I went to ER quite a few times in this month. They ran some xrays of my upper right abdomen, neck, and chest. They also an a few CAT scans I believe of my heart and head. Everything came back normal and they gave me zofran and hydroxyzine for nausea and anxiety.
Also saw a sleep doctor and was told I have severe sleep apnea so I started a Cpap on February 8th and have been using it since.
I also changed my diet to be gluten free/dairy free just in case it was a thyroid issue. And dropped processed foods the best I can. (Financially relying on my friends and partner right now so it’s hard)
My HRT doctor told me to start taking cod liver oil supplements everyday so I have been. —————————- February: Hematology told me I need to lower T and maybe my thicker blood was causing issues and that it would get better lowering it and using the Cpap for longer. She did tests to see if my blood cells were smaller than normal and if I have any genetic mutations. Still waiting on the genetic mutation results and she is double checking my doctor on b12 because apparently either side of the spectrum can cause pins and needles and heat flashes.
I saw my cardiologist and he prescribed me high blood pressure meds and said the ER did a lot of tests so he wasn’t gonna do anything more except for one holter test which was useless because I didn’t experience my heart palpitations that day.
I called like crazy everyday for cancellations and booked two endocrinologists. First one ran an inflammation marker test and TOLD me it was normal and because the ER ran the same tests as my doctor and that the tests came back normal, they think my doctor has a fluke or that my thyroid being affected is just a symptom of something else. So she told me to go see a neurologist.
Saw the nutritionist, completely unhelpful entirely. They offered surgery and medication that would slow my metabolism and then offered me a weight loss program that would require 400$ out of pocket every month so that went nowhere lol.
My doctor referred me to get an EMG test so I didn’t have to wait an extra month for my neurologist to tell me to since those weren’t booking out till September. ———————— March: Saw my second endocrinologist, he told me that the tests my first endocrinologist did weren’t normal and that I do have inflammation markers raised. He told me to see a rheumatologist and ran a test for cortisol levels. Those came back normal and said to seek help elsewhere for now.
Saw my HRT doctor, he said that he doesn’t think my testosterone wasn’t the problem and that my bloodwork shows the normal amount of change in blood that most people go through when taking t. He lowered the dosage anyways to .8
Saw the neurologist, they said that because my symptoms are all encompassing, they think it’s not a neurological problem and referred me to rheumatology. They scheduled me for an MRI of my pituitary gland, but that would be for my endocrinologist to follow up with me.
Hematologist and cardiologist said they are just gonna wait till I see my rheumatologist and don’t really think anything on their end can help.
—————— April: Because I called every single day, I got a cancellation for tomorrow (April 9th) to see the Rheumatologist. And I’m hoping to the universe that they find anything. Because it’s at a point where I’m undeniably going through smth. It’s not just anxiety or I need to lose weight. Something is very wrong and I can’t keep living like this.
I see a therapist too, but the symptoms have only gotten worse and I feel like I’m just being told to wait till it gets worse snd more obvious to what it is and getting tossed around between doctors while I suffer. I can’t do anything anymore. Even distracting myself is hard and getting emotional in any way can trigger the symptoms. It’s so hard to sleep and the weather is only going to get hotter and hotter.
Every test and doctor and waiting list for anything takes so damn long to book despite me calling every single morning for a cancellation. And I’m just so exhausted and frustrated.
Talked with the rheumatologist! They said that they think I have fibromyalgia and that I should get on symbalta and to talk to my pcp about it. They also think what I have is probably endocrine or nerve related and that it’s something less common so they put a bunch of tests the other doctors haven’t tested. My pcp referred me to psychiatry, so I’m on a waitlist for that. I have an MRI for my pituitary gland this Saturday and an appt with my sleep doctor on Friday, but I guess at this point they are just trying to find any indication for anything.
Talked to my sleep doctor. Prescribed me Gabapentin. I used it and used my Cpap and didn’t wake up with any panic attacks so that’s good! Hoping it works for the future.
I did the MRI for my pituitary gland. Absolutely horrendous esp as an autistic individual :( I had a bad panic attack in the bathroom because I didn’t know they encase your head and the sounds were overwhelming despite knowing it would be 😭 but now I’m just waiting for Sjogren test to come back from rheumatologist. If its negative, they said they will just diagnose me with fibro and end it there :/

So I had one of my many appointments with my psychiatrist yesterday. I’ve been seeing her almost every month since 2019, and I’ve had the diagnosis of Schizophrenia since 2014.
Well yesterday we were talking about how no medicine I’ve taken since 2014 has gotten rid of my hallucinations and thought processing issues. She told me she believes I don’t have Schizophrenia but instead my hallucinations are a trauma response. (I was neglected by my dad after my mom’s death, and my symptoms started when my mom originally got sick in 2012)
She said that repeated trauma like what I went through is indicative of PTSD and she prescribed me Prazosin for my nightmares. She told me it helps to shut down the brain at night for people with PTSD and I can either take it every night or just as needed when I’ve had a stressful day.
I’ve been on just about every oral antipsychotic you can think of, and have been on Abilify Maintena for 2 years now and no reduction of hallucinations, thought processing issues, nightmares, occasional insomnia, or flashbacks and re-experiencing when exposed to a trigger. I had to quit a job a few years ago because I had a bad flashback with a dementia patient (my mom had dementia before she passed).
The only thing the Abilify Maintena has helped with is mood stabilization. I don’t cry every day like I used to, and I find myself able to control my irritability better.
I feel bad because I’m only 23, and so many PTSD sufferers have had worse experiences than me. I feel like I shouldn’t be like this, that I should just suck it up and stop focusing on the past. But it’s been 12 years since my symptoms started and they’re not getting better.
Sorry I don’t mean to vent, I’m just a little overwhelmed and angry and sad. I’m upset that this is the first time one of my providers has really explored my trauma with me and provided wisdom and clarification.
Anyways, I hope y’all have a great day and thank you to anyone who read this the whole way through.

HI, I thought I would try here before I spend another 250.00 (Not covered by insurance) consult fee :) I could try and look all this up if not for the severe brain fog caused by the Psych Meds and Covid 19.
History - PSYCH meds ruined pretty much most of my body/organs!! Also have Long Covid. Did a Neurotransmitter Test as Well as Vitamins and Minerals. What I know so far - I am high in Norepinephrine, Epinephrine, (Which means high cortisol as well) Tyrosine, 3-MT, and 5-HIAA. I am low in PEA, Tyramine, Tryptamine, Taurine). Additionally, My Acetylcholine and GABA neurotransmitters are lacking (Because of Pharma Meds). My hormones are all out of balance. And the icing on the cake - I have 1 a variant of the MTHFR Gene. A brain MRI also revealed Chronic Small Vessel Disease, Low Blood Pressure, Fast heart Rate, Inflated lungs, and Some Plaque on Left Ventricle of Heart - No Meds for This.
Here is a list of supplements I have - I have been taking some but am wondering about a couple. I am not sure when to take them, what can be taken together, with or without food? Any good before bedtime BC sleep is non existent at the moment. If you can help thanks, you saved me a couple hundred dollars, If not thank you for reading :)

New Meds I am on for now (zoloft for racing thoughts and to decrease Norepinephrine)
Prazosin (For symptoms of high cortisol)
Tapered from long term benzo use rather quickly BC Psych didn't support a taper saying I should increase and Benzos were harmless! (This has caused pretty much all my issues!)

Here are the supplements I have started but do not know what I can/should be taking together, what time, with/without food:
Cort Align - Stress Manager Complex B Vitamins
L-Taurine B6
COq10 Probiotic
Omega 3 D3
5-HTP Vitamin C
Zinc/CoppeSelenium (Combo)
Ones I haven't started yet:
Inositol. Magnesium-L-Theanine
GABA Rhodiola Rosea
**I am told it might not be a good idea to take GABA when stopping a benzo - Nautropath says it's ok but I worried also worried about Rhodiola Rosa ****

Any suggestions on timings for these, what can be taken together, and with or without food as well as which ones might be best before bed so I might get a night or two of sleep per week :)! You can charge me half of the consult cost here :) :)

Thanks So Very Much!!!
D

Since September our neutered 5 year old boy has had 3 occasions where he was struggling to pee. Each time, the vet has prescribed metacam and prazosin and our boy was fine for some time. This time he was prescribed those again and booked in for an x-ray and had catheter inserted to clear any obstructions and get a urine sample. Vet says x-ray was fine, urine sample was gritty and was evidence of crystals on tip of catheter when they took it out.
He also said they found it particularly hard to get the catheter in initially, and referred us to a specialist vet. He said if our cat is peeing fine (which he had already started doing a couple days prior) then the specialist may just put him on a diet of Hills or Royal canin, but if not then it may lead down surgery route.
Unfortunately, the consultation with the specialist was too expensive for us after what we had already paid, for this reason we made the decision to cancel it, continue the course of his meds and start him on Hills s/d food. Until the Hills is delivered he is on a wet only diet with added water to his food, which he is eating/drinking well. He is doing golf-ball sized pees quite frequently, but is not showing any discomfort whilst doing so.
Basically, we are just looking for some reassurance that we are doing the best with what we can right now. In an ideal world we would have taken him to the specialist, but he has also seemed generally okay aside from being a little skittish the day he got back from his scans, and after some research we thought we could save ourselves from breaking our bank and take the diet route ourselves. We are also due to go away to visit family for 2 weeks soon which has added to the stress a little...
Any advice or recommendations would be hugely appreciated.

I’m 28 years old. I was diagnosed with OCD and put on Oxcarbazepine and Sertraline in a mental hospital at 16 years old. I washed suicidal or anything, my OCD was just so bad it took up hours and hours of my days.
I have taken these meds ever since. I have gone through a number of new issues since.
First let me say, a few years ago, (maybe 4?) I started taking Bupropion SR for uncontrollable rage outbursts I had since I was 18. Weirdest part is, it literally started overnight, like a switch just flipped, and it happened immediately after pa series of very weird vivid dreams that I still remember 10 years later. The last dream before waking up was that I had a knife under my pillow. I woke up with my back SOAKED IN SWEAT, MY SHEETS SOAKED FROM THE SWEAT.
I was getting these uncontrollable rage outbursts, which I theorize is from being a spineless pushover for so long, I was bullied a lot my entire school life, and my dad was drinking more and eventually even got physically violent (yes my mom divorced, maybe shortly after I turned 18, 19 MAYBE? Remarried soon after, she started seeing him while still married….).
I would yell at the top of my lungs, that I was going to kill, and my voice was all deep and rough. I wouldn’t even feel fear, because I was so full of blind rage that’s all I could feel (sometimes mixed with panic).
The Bupropion SR REALLY got that under control.
I still dealt with evil and violent intrusive thoughts, had some panic attacks from cute innocent things (maybe I was scared of the intrusive thoughts I knew I’d have? Or I’m just crazy?) and if someone got mad at me and nobody else was around I’d really feel my life was in danger.
The feeling that nobody will stand up for you, or even physically protect you, can make it feel like you’ll have to do anything drastic to protect yourself.
But the Bupropion SR really got those uncontrollable rage outbursts under control, but NOT the intrusive thoughts. Those just seemed to get worse.
I was trying to convince myself that they were just thoughts and did not represent who I am, nor could they force me to act them out.
I had also been dealing with nightmares from time to time, occasionally feeling paranoid that I was stuck in a dream if I didn’t scream again after waking up, or if I didn’t already scream. Dumb OCD stuff probably.
But then, a few months ago (last September or October, I’ll know the exact day if I look back in my posts) I suddenly had a nightmare that (as usual) made me wake up screaming at the top of my lungs.
But this time, I felt a continuing sense of being stuck in a dream, overwhelming terror, dread, I thought my mom was a demon or part of the dream (I had a nightmare where I was screaming and still couldn’t wage up, and that old man (and the whole dream) looked SO REAL, I’m pretty convinced it could have actually been a real demonic spirit torturing me in my dream, and this isn’t a one off thing….) so I remembered that and it terrified and tormented me that my mom might not be real, and I was stuck in a nightmare world all alone, and even if I screamed bloody murder I’d still be stuck with a being that wasn’t even real, or perhaps even an actual real demonic spirit).
I had this overwhelming crippling terror, and paranoia, and it lasted for almost an entire month.
It went from me being terrified and paranoid that I was stuck in a nightmare, then I thought I heard a heart monitor and thought I might be in a coma in a hospital, then I thought it might be a simulation, then I thought I might have died and went to Hell and demons were keeping me in a simulation, to specifically driving me insane from me being in what really looked and felt like my real life, but I was terrified and paranoid that it might actually not be real.
I had another vivid nightmare two nights after, (the first one had demons and witches flying around) where these shadow figures were behind me, and one where containers of salt had live fish in them, and it was somehow apparently just normal. I had a dream where I was just watching South Park and woke up screaming from that, I guess because I was trying to find God and thought it was a sin to watch it?
Yes, I felt this was very likely to be demonic spirits attacking me, as I had fallen from God years ago, and been sinning a lot without guilt, swearing, taking the Lord’s name in vain, watching and jerking off to porn (some Christian’s claim porn is a “demonic gateway”) and even stealing, all without guilt. I didn’t even think watching porn was wrong, I wasn’t aware of it supposedly being immoral…..
I got on Prazosin, and it seems to have really helped with the nightmares. I do still have a lot of very vivid strange, sometimes outright creepy and disturbing dreams, even if I don’t feel absolutely terrified and wake up screaming.
I saw my mom possessed by a demonic clown, and my sister turned into a man and flapped their huge dick in my face while my parents just watched (right before the scene changed and I saw my mom possessed by a demonic clown, which screamed and laughed high pitched).
When I was 13, I woke up shortly after falling asleep, and PHYSICALLY GOT OUT OF BED, RAN DOWN THE HALLWAY (SO NOT SLEEP PARALYSIS!!!!) and went to tell my mom that something was wrong, and I BARKED IN HER FACE, SMILING ABOUT IT, AND THEN SCREAMING IN FEAR BECAUSE I WASN’T IN CONTROL OF MY ACTIONS.
I felt stuck between a dream and awake, and everything was foggy/blurry, and it stopped after u called out to God begging Him to “wake me up” and my mom was praying. It just stopped, I just suddenly felt like I woke up from a dream, but I wasn’t in my bed, I was still standing in the garage (where there guided me too, because my 3 year old sister was sleeping, and somehow she didn’t wake up from this!).
If that wasn’t demonic possession, I don’t know what it could have been. A month and a half before the nightmare that started my current “psychosis” (if that’s what this really is) I suddenly felt like it was about to happen again, very strong feeling of this unseen force trying to take over control of my body again, all of a sudden, 15 years later. I prayed to God, and it went away and didn’t happen. And this was oddly just a month and a half before this current, reality shift? (It’s felt like reality warping and being unreal, both in dreams and awake). Shortly before that I had said that the whole Christian thing seemed like it was just a method to control people and too strict of a lifestyle. It’s almost like God was trying to show me that I was wrong.
But I still feel doubtful in God, I still wonder if all this is actually real or I am just going mentally insane. Both seem maybe equally possible.
Belief in God always seems to be reliant specifically on LACK OF EVIDENCE/PROOF of God’s existence. And supernatural/paranormal experiences are often dismissed as “mental illness” by many people, even by a lot of Christians.
I also have to wonder, what God would allow people to go through stuff like this in the first place? What God would even allow evil demonic spirits to literally possess and control people (He promised freewill, didn’t He? This completely violates and contradicts that!) which also puts other innocent people in danger of being harmed or even killed by the demon controlled person. Why and how could/would an all knowing, all loving, and all powerful God allow such things to happen????
I feel like I might actually be possessed by demons or the devil, I’m so full of evil thoughts.
I often have these thoughts of hitting someone or doing something bad, but I don’t do it. It’s like, am I about to do it? Why do I even keep thinking like this? What is wrong with me?
The day after waking up from the nightmare that started all this current supposedly “psychosis” I kept thinking about charging at people and biting their flesh off, I thought that HAD to be a demon(s) inside me, wanting to devour human flesh, and needing a human body to do it.
That specific strong, intrusive urge/thought fortunately didn’t stick around.
But I keep thinking about killing people, with strange logic to it. I keep saying “No, everybody’s life matters!” but I feel this, feeling of it just doesn’t matter if I do bad things, even if there are consequences! But why would it not matter???
IT IS BAD AND WRONG TO HARM OR KILL ANY LIVING BEINGS (NOT ONLY HUMANS, BUT ANY AND ALL LIVING CREATURES) SO STOP TELLING ME TO KILL THEM, AND STOP TRYING TO MORALLY JUSTIFY IT, YOU’RE A LOSER SATAN, AND ALL YOUR DUMBASS DEMONIC LACKEYES, STAY DOWN IN HELL WHERE YOU BELONG.
But all these Bible verses say if you’re unsaved, they have a LEGAL RIGHT to inhabit your body, which sounds crazy.
Does God WANT some people to be murderers? If not, why does HE ALLOW IT???
God should know we’re not all aware enough to know if He and all that spiritual stuff is actually real! And He also sends people to Hell (even if they were the MOST MORAL PERSON TO EVER LIVE!!!!) just for not believing in His existence….
WTFH IS HAPPENING TO ME??????
I dread sleeping, I dread existing, I dread the possible afterlife of eternal damnation and torture in Hell so I’m too scared to even kill myself!!!
I never thought any experience whatever this is could even be possible. I can’t even fully comprehend it.
I said GD it a few times just because my OCD made me, is that demons inside of me? Is God furious because of that?
Simply existing has become agonizing torture, but there may be an EVEN WORSE ETERNAL HELL AFTER DEATH!!!!!!
I don’t want to be a bad person, I don’t want to WANT to be a bad person! I feel like I’ve completely lost my sense of humanity, of being human.
Sometimes I just feel this overwhelming, energy? Dread, and/or that something terrible is about to happen. These forces are greater and beyond me, I can’t really explain it.

I have been going through things I can’t even fully explain. Maybe it’s all just psychological, but even if so, if God is actually real, and I’ve had some reasons to believe that it is likely He is, I NEED HIM.
I’m hung up on things like being a 28 year old male virgin who’s never had a girlfriend, and I don’t want kids, and don’t think marriage is realistic for me ANYTIME SOON. I don’t understand why unmarried sex is automatically and necessarily a sin, but God must have a good reason if it is.
If the path without God is, has evil spirits and leads to eternal damnation, I need God, no matter what I have to sacrifice. No sin is worth holding onto if it leads to Hell and/or being stuck in insanity with or without amnesia.
I just had the craziest, strangest dream I may have ever had (you can read it on my recent post history, but IT IS KIND OF A LONG READ), but I’ve been having strange vivid dreams (Prazosin mostly got the nightmares under control, I literally woke up screaming at the top of my lungs, for years, even up to a 28 year old grown man.
I’ve still been having very strange bizarre vivid dreams, sometimes disturbing, creepy, sometimes not.
This most recent one wasn’t a NIGHTMARE, but it felt SO REAL, I didn’t even remember real life when I woke up, that place wasn’t TERRIFYING, but ended kind of eery.
And for much longer, I’ve been dealing with a ton of others issues, mental, emotional, angerage, depression, intrusive thoughts, terrifying and/or strange creatures in my mind while wide awake.
Sometimes they don’t even really look or seem EVIL, but so bizarre, otherworldly, it can’t be normal, they shouldn’t be with me, even if just imaginary, and I can’t just stop thinking about them.
Right now they’re these strange brown furry humanoid figures, they kind of have triangular fur covered heads, white and yellow stripes, possibly Native American/Indian related?
Other times the beings I see in my head are outright evil and terrifying though, and I’ve actually SEEN SOME in dreams, and they can stick in my mind even after waking up.
I don’t know if they’re real spirits or just imaginary brain electric neuro signal stuff.
I miss just having OCD, now I get visions/images, get taken to other dimensions in my sleep apparently, I can even wash up with temporary amnesia it can be so immersive.
I don’t know if I’m real, if the world is real, it all seems so unreal.
In these “false” worlds, it feels like even if God is real, He is not present in those worlds (even though I haven’t seen what I would believe could be “Hell”), they’re just completely separate from Him, separate even from this world that you are all in.
I don’t understand what I’m going through, if it’s spiritual, or just psychological, but I’m afraid if I kill myself I’ll just end suffering and tortured even worse for eternity, as opposed to death being escape and relief (something I can’t get either awake or asleep).
Did all the prescription medications turn me psycho? I don’t know. Maybe I was just born out of my mind.
I’m afraid not even professional therapists can help me feel and become more normal, bring me back to reality, become sane and sound, even less likely to somehow completely eliminate intrusive thoughts and make me feel emotionally normal.
Even this waking world feels, off, sometimes, especially after a dream like that. Where did I go? Why did I wake up confused and not remembering or recognizing real life, or know who I was? It was like I disappeared from existence for who knows how long, and lost my memories of real life.
What’s really weird is the dream wasn’t even really SCARY, moreso the transition back to waking up.
Maybe I need a sleep study?
I saw dots on the wall after I woke up, perfectly still, so it couldn’t just be my eye floaters.
I always feel on the edge of being about to do something bad, on an impulse. Something is very wrong with me.
I have no idea what that, “dream”, was, or what was happening in my brain during it. But it was so far removed from reality, but felt so real, and I didn’t even recognize or remember this “real life” when I woke up, and it still feels, off.
Whether this is actually spiritual or psychological, I feel like I’m a lost cause beyond help. If this is actually a “simulation/glitch” thing, then why isn’t everyone else experiencing it? Why me?

Every time I go to sleep, I’m going to a strange unrecognizable world. Even when it’s not a terrifying nightmare, it’s very detached from reality, and it just bothers me more now for some reason when I’m awake.
I know psychosis typically means not being aware of being psychotic, and it makes it sound more like I’m just trolling, or explaining a drug trip or something like that (I’ve never done an illegal drug in my life, believe me or don’t) but it’s like a part of me recognizes that something is very off, and I still have memories of my life. In fact, the dreams and, daydream world? (I guess I’ll call it that?) are heavily based off of memories, that are the foundation of these new worlds I don’t consent to being in, but remixed, very distorted and warped.
It’s not completely new, but things really didn’t get so severely overwhelming until suddenly overnight a few months ago, and I have no idea what could have possibly happened so randomly and suddenly (other than demonic attack?)
I can’t even begin to explain just how far removed I feel. It’s not just “everyone is a secret agent or demon” or some delusion somewhat possibly based off of reality (or at least commonly believed, religion or folklore or whatever) but something completely different I cannot possibly properly explain.
I don’t really know where I am anymore, or who I am, and it’s mind blowing how this “waking world” around me is even so consistent, sometimes I feel like I’m barely comprehending or processing or aware of what’s around me.
I’m 28, which is too young to have dementia or Alzheimer’s (although Alzheimer’s runs in my family, and I’ve taken so many psych meds for so much of my life which can also cause it, especially the SSRI) but here I am, not even 30 and everything is getting so confusing already.
I have woke up screaming terrified from nightmares from time to time for YEARS, but it all of a sudden got suddenly bad, like there was some kind of break or shift, just a few months ago. But I’ve been suffering from torturous intrusive thoughts and mental images of demonic faces (yes, while wide awake) for awhile already, but something massive happened all of a sudden a few months ago.
My psychiatrist put me on Prazosin, which helped MOSTLY stop the nightmares, but I still have a lot of strange vivid dreams, (and occasionally nightmares, even if I don’t wake up screaming) and even when awake I don’t feel like myself.
It’s a common symptom that people feel like everyone around them has been replaced, and while I have felt terrified everyone was a demon, what I’m feeling more now is that I myself have been replaced, by some, unfamiliar spirit, I don’t even know what exactly.
I seem to have access to my body’s past self’s memories, but I feel like somebody else. I’m not sure who’s consciousness this is, or how that even works, I just know that I do see a world around me, and on some level know what role I have to keep playing (it’s not glorious, but it’s the life this man had, what his life led to, his life could have been much worse, but now he, and I guess me, are suffering circumstances not even based off of the physical world).
Perhaps dreaming IS interdimensional travel, and my soul (or conscious or whatever) ended up in another version of me in another universe, and I woke up in this body, or maybe I’m even the same ME, but I’M the one in a different body in a different universe?
The closest way I can think of maybe describing it at all, is, I don’t know? Different laws of physics?
The worst part is when I feel scared and like a psychopath and like I’m going to just start screaming or maybe even hurt others. Or that the entire world is just going to disappear, it already doesn’t really feel like it’s here sometimes.
I don’t know if it’s the rural isolation for 2+ years (when it was complete isolation) and being in the house by myself most of the time, but that’s when I really felt myself start to go, and I got paranoid that I was in something like The Matrix or The Truman Show. (Couldn’t drive and there was no Uber or Lyft and nobody would or could give me a ride to even try and get any sort of job. I spent pretty much my entire waking hours doing survey sites while watching TV to have some kind of background noise and something to watch here and there).
By the way, even a part-time minimum wage job pays WAAAAY more than you can make from those survey sites, even if you could literally do them 24/7.
I still can’t drive (and I tried a few times) but we live close to everything now and I take Uber and Lyft a lot, and my parents drive me a lot. Yeah, I’m 28, but I’m a defective failure anyway, and I’m psycho crazy.
I’ve had bizarre impulses and compulsions for much longer, I’m not sure they’re even common for OCD. Obsessing about weird stuff like sticking my finger down my throat, or thinking I got stuck in another universe from not doing it the right number of times.
Sounds crazy even for bring crazy, doesn’t it?
This is so beyond just OCD now though. I’m either entering psychosis, or I am actually demonically possessed, and the devil and demons are a lot more powerful than I ever thought possible, I saw a warped and distorted vision of JESUS CHRIST recently. I didn’t think it was possible for the image of Jesus Christ to be warped or distorted (BLASPHEMY) even by Satan and demons, or even in a dream/nightmare or hallucination.
I can’t help but be more scared that God is actually not real, or the demons and devil actually are stronger, or God IS stronger but let’s them torture people beyond imagination anyway. I can’t imagine even worse, for eternity. I can’t believe that an all knowing and all loving God would allow or send people to Hell, even for simply not believing He exists, even if they were otherwise a good person.
I didn’t think, whatever I am experiencing and feeling, was even POSSIBLE, but there have always been glimpses of this throughout my life, looking back, I think. No the flood gates have burst open, and my consciousness is being warped and distorted, or reality is, something is trying to change me, for the worst.
Sometimes I have physical pain and feel light and dizzy. My psychiatrist didn’t think a brain scan was necessary and told me “that’s expensive”.
I’m reaching a point where I don’t even care if I drown in medical debt, because I’m, glitching? It’s like other people or beings are inside of me, trying to take over me, and the world around me is through a filter, it just feels strange and foreign, and this has actually happened throughout my entire life (it just didn’t used to be this severe or disturbing).
Am I on too many meds? I’ve taken Trileptal and Zoloft for over 12 years, (for OCD) Wellbutrin over 3 years (for uncontrollable rage outbursts), and Prazosin for a few months. I didn’t want to take EVEN MORE PILLS, but I agreed to the Prazosin out of desperation from such severe nightmares that I assume are also the cause of the derealization, depersonalization, terror, paranoia, whatever this psychological Hell is.
How do I even explain this to a therapist, or another doctor? I’d probably need to be in some sort of rehab to withdrawal from all this, but I don’t think rehab is used for getting off of prescription psych drugs.
The withdrawals and interactions will probably paralyze me or give me seizures or something, and I’ll probably end up in a mental institution or prison, I might even end up in a coma if the withdrawals and interactions don’t outright kill me.
I’m losing my mind, my self, and my grasp on reality.

I take several psychiatric medications, and multiple psychiatrists have already gaslighted me telling me “your meds are completely safe, you can take more more and they won’t interact or overdrug you, your concerns of what they’re doing to you aren’t risks of the drug”.
I’m kind of scared, because both reality and my own self/personality/identity seem to be changing or erasing altogether.
I have a hard time believing that it’s “just OCD” anymore, or even that my OCD was so bad it kept pulling me into greater obsessions/delusions/compulsions, I mean I don’t know, maybe it did, but it just seems like it’s way beyond Obsessive Compulsive Disorder now.
I have taken a mood stabilizer called “Trileptal”, and an SSRI called “Zoloft” for over 12 years now, (Trileptal 1200 MG and Zoloft 200 MG dose daily, which is max doses, at least the Zoloft is) for the OCD, which put me in a mental hospital at 16, where they put me on those.
A few years ago I started “Wellbutrin” for uncontrollable rage outbursts I was having. It did help a lot, fortunately, but why was I having that in the first place?
And then just a few months ago I started “Prazosin”. I didn’t want to take even more meds, but I had suddenly started having more severe vivid nightmares and derealization, depersonalization, terror, and paranoia, so I was extremely desperate. It’s helped a lot, although I still have strange and disturbing vivid nightmares sometimes, even if I don’t wake up screaming at the top of my lungs anymore.
I have been tortured by extremely vivid creepy old men in a couple of dreams, and even more recently, my mom possessed by a demonic clown. And my sister shapeshifted into a man and threw me down on the bed and forcibly flapped a big dick in my face, while my parents just stood there and watched. I have felt a little bicurious (maybe from watching too much porn to lack of real sex) but this was not enjoyable at all, it was disgusting and I can’t imagine how REAL LIFE SEX ABUSE/ASSAULT victims feel.
I genuinely have to question if these have been demonic spirits harassing me through my dreams, I see demonic faces in my mind sometimes while wide awake, and don’t know wtfh it is.
I have prayed to God and begged Jesus Christ to save me, repenting for my sins (I thought all this got so severe and suddenly attacked me due to years of sinning, declining morals, and disrespecting and disregarding God, even while acknowledging His possible existence, but I thought He was my enemy, that He created me solely to torture me and make me suffer) but I don’t feel it strong enough. I question whether God is really real, or maybe He is but the demons and the devil just have too much of a stronghold on me, because I sure feel their evil presence (or is it just psychosis, or schizophrenia, or Alzheimer’s, I don’t know).
I dread going to sleep, because I have no control over what I’m going to see and experience. It’s honestly just a miracle I’ve never experienced sleep paralysis yet, but I’m afraid that, or a NDE might be the final straw that sends me into complete psychosis and gets me locked in a mental institution or dead. I have theorized that this is the reason God has spared me from experiencing these things (many people claim God let’s these things happen in order to get them to turn to Him to be saved, ultimately saving their soul for eternity).
But God must know that I am too mentally unstable to simply be chill and get that, but instead I will panic beyond belief and run outside screaming at the top of my lungs that the devil is trying to take my soul and I’ll end up on the news and YouTube and I’ll be locked up. I imagine God shaking His head like “that was supposed to cause you to turn to me so I could save you from an eternity of that, but instead you’re over reacting and just terrified and not able to comprehend that I’m trying to save you”. Although God would know this, and therefore be why He DOESN’T put me through that in the first place.
My dreams, and waking thoughts often rely heavily on memories, creating warped/distorted worlds of real life memories. Some of these dreams and thoughts will just make me sound like I’m trolling (and probably already have) but they honestly genuinely confuse me and if they’re supposed to “mean” something to give me an “ephinany” or whatever, it’s completely lost on me.
I live with my parents (otherwise I’d be homeless, where the system puts people like me without personal support) but I don’t think they’re aware of the full scope of what I’m going through. I’m afraid of scaring them more, it was already too much when my mom freaked out and panicked her reaction when I asked her to take me to the hospital (because I was feeling this so severe and also pooping a lot of blood).
My boss was not understanding at all for calling out that day, didn’t care one damn fucking bit (I only mentioned the intestinal stuff of course, even saying I might go to the hospital, only replied by saying “You’re supposed to come in today”. Not even a genuine “Are you ok?”). I went to an urgent care, which many people seem to forget exist and are open on weekends.
I don’t know if I can be treated or saved, because I feel like there is nothing left to save, like the, real, sane, healthy parts of me are just gone.
Maybe I already have my grandmas Alzheimer’s, but all these “medications” could have easily destroyed my brain early on in life.
I don’t know where I really am, who I am, nobody cares or understands, I’m being deleted or erased, I feel like my brain is melting, sometimes it feels swelled up against my skull.
I feel I might have to something I can’t undo and unforgivable before I can get any kind of scan or test to find what is wrong with me (a brain tumor, an overactive or swollen amygdala?).
All the damn doctors do is throw more pills and say “brain scans are expensive, that’s extreme, your meds aren’t even that dangerous they can’t harm you like you think they are”.
If I lose my job I lose health insurance, and I’m going to be forced to do something drastic to receive tests and care I need. I won’t suffer in silence on the streets. I will not stay alive that way. I will be blamed for any withdrawal I’m out through from no longer being able to afford mark see a psychiatrist to refill my prescriptions (GoodRX won’t cover the required doctor visits to approve refills).
I don’t even know for sure which world I’m in, what is real, am I real, I am really already dead, this is just a physical body, my consciousness is fading away, I don’t know how I see anything around me. It sure isn’t this consistent when I’m asleep.
I don’t want to be a bad person or hurt anyone but I can’t control if a greater power is trying to to take over me and control me, I do not even fully exist as I maybe used to.
I don’t want to be another statistic either, I’ll just be remembered as a crazy and/or evil person.
Why won’t anybody take me seriously?
Whoever I am, whatever I am that’s left, is desperate for help. I am stranded and tortured alone, especially in the dream realm, but sometimes in this one too.
What the fucking hell happened to me? I can’t just “act normal” like my dad always told me to because something beyond my power and control takes over me.
Help. Please. I’m being as genuine as I possibly can, even though I may not be able to properly/fully communicate it.
This just doesn’t make any sense, at all.

Felt great for the first week. Was also doing keto. Started to dip after that so I dropped the keto. Great for another week and it’s been down hill since. Psyche and I agreed taking the patch off before bed may help with sleep. Didn’t really notice a difference. Mood kept steadily declining. Went back to wearing the patch all night and I’m still declining. I did try 9mg but almost ended up in the psyche ward losing my shit from not sleeping for the 2 days I was at that dose.
Summary: 4 weeks on 6mg, +2 weeks taking patch off at bedtime, 2 days on 9mg, 1 week on 6mg again (taking patch off at night), 3 days on 6mg sleeping with patch on.
I sleep but I feel fucking exhausted all day. I wake up 3-4 times a night. Like more exhausted than typical with depression. My emotional regulation is fucked.
Every sleep aid I’ve tried makes me depressed and groggy for a day or more. The ones that don’t aren’t reliable. 5mg quetiapine gave me akathisia and made me feel like I was gonna vomit every time I moved.
Took clonazapam 0.125mg Friday. Slept like a baby but I’ve felt like I’ve had fucking brain damage since taking it (obviously I don’t, just need this shit out of my system). I’m so fucking irritable and can’t think or get any school work done. My depression symptoms are at least 2x worse.
Sleep aids tried: rozerem, trazodone, doxylamine, mirtazipine, quetiapine, clonazapam, prazosin, ambien, lunesta, hydroxyzine, benedryl, valerian, l-theanine, chamomile, Propanalol, Doxepin. Poor cyp2d6 metabolizer so TCAs are a no go. Anticholinergics all have the same effect: depression, anhedonia, avolition all worse. Taken melatonin and mag. Glycinate daily for like 10 years.
Idk what the fuck to do. Emsam was really my last hope. If I can’t sleep on any of these it kind of negates any benefits. Been doing ketamine for almost 2 years but it just kind of keeps me from killing myself.
Edit: Yes I’ve tried rTMS. It made me worse. I was partially remitting when I tried it and it set me back like a year. I won’t do ECT. 30% incidence of permanent neuro cognitive deficits. Fuck that. At least you can reverse a drugs effects.
Edit 2: I’m fucking done. I can’t sleep. Woke up after 30 minutes of sleep grinding the shit out of my teeth. My head is pounding and I’m wide awake. I can’t shit. My gut is fucked from the laxatives. I’m full of rage and rumination. I can’t anymore. Thanks for all the comments/suggestions. Never had a community be so active on a post I made.

I am in NYS.
Going back about 6 months ago, I switched to a new provider. She did not like the medications I was prescribed for years, which was a combination of an SSRI, a tricyclic antidepressant, an anxiety medication (not a benzo), and gabapentin. She told me I could not be on two antidepressants, which I had been on for a long time. I spent years trying to find a combination that worked well for me. I found the combination of the antidepressants worked wonderfully for me, and obviously the previous provider and pharmacy had no issue with this combination. The doctor told me I had to "choose one" (no education, just on the spot, pick one or the other). She also quadrupled my dosage of the anxiety meds, which were not the greatest for me anyways, I was trying to find one that worked better for me. And then she added prazosin, which apparently helps you sleep and help with nightmares. (I have diagnosed anxiety, depression, and PTSD). I started having episodes of fainting so I went to urgent care. They looked at the medication change and were shocked. They actually stated "no MD would do this!" You cannot stop an antidepressant cold turkey, and the quadrupled anxiety medication combined with the prazosin was causing my blood pressure to drop very low which was causing the fainting. I hit my head multiple times during these episodes. The urgent care advised me to not take as much of the anxiety med that the provider quadrupled. She also said the "whooshing feeling" in my ears is a sign of passing out, and advised me to sit down if I feel that, and of course to get up and down slowly from laying, sitting, standing, etc.
Fast forward to about 3 months ago. I started having chest pains. I was prescribed suboxone by the same provider at about the same time. (I am a veteran who got injured in the Army and was prescribed painkillers for years and then cut off without weaning me off, so I went into withdrawal - which I didn't even know could happen. Once I learned I was in withdrawal, I started using street drugs and then began my road to recovery). I was also having some pain in my calves so the doctor immediately thought heart issues, did and EKG and everything looked good. The chest pain did continue, though since my heart looked good, I wasn't too concerned- perhaps I should have been and that was on me for not looking into it more, but it wasn't getting worse and slightly lessened so I dismissed it).
Fast forward to January 4th. I got the sublocade injection. A few months prior, when I began the suboxone, I told this same provider, "I heard good things about the sublocade, I was thinking about trying it." Her response was, "okay, we can usually get it here in a couple of days." It took a couple of months to find a pharmacy who would take my insurance. I was never educated on the possible side effects. The insert given to the doctor in the box that comes with the injection has pretty specific directions, such as "check liver function prior to getting the shot, advise patient not to push on it or wear a belt in that area, be sure to advise patient and caregiver that overdose is possible and advise or provide narcan." Hours after getting the shot, I began feeling very confused. I was uncoordinated, falling, passing out. I couldn't urinate for days or have a bowel movement. The only thing I was advised was that I may feel some withdrawal symptoms and she prescribed 7 suboxone strips and told me to supplement if needed with half of a strip at a time. AFTER the injection, she gave me a drug test. Now typically, you would do an instant drug test prior, as if I had any opiates in my system, I would go into precipitated withdrawal. I did not have any symptoms of precipitated withdrawal. I was actually just falling asleep in unusual places. My mind has been so confused, I actually messed up counting to 10. I don't know what day it is half of the time. My mind is very confused. This post has taken me days and help to write as my mind is not okay. I am functioning at the level of a child. When I called my counselor and let them know of the symptoms I was having, I was told that the director of the clinic spoke with the provider, who stated this is a "coincidence." I then spoke with the nurse who injected me with the sublocade and she told me that I was being "hysterical, but if I really feel that bad you can go to the ER or something." Now I am still having these symptoms. They are documented from urgent care and match the exact side effects of this drug. We had a big "provider" meeting today. I was told they will not fill out the paperwork for my work (doctor note, disability, FMLA), so now my job is at risk. They are now telling me to go to the emergency room. According to the manufacturer's insert that comes in the box, if someone has these side effects, the injection can be removed within 14 days, and a type of steroid can be given to counteract the symptoms. I was BEGGING anyone who would listen to take it out of me. I did not know at the time that was possible, and now it is too late. They refuse to tell me if I can have the medication to counteract the symptoms. Urgent care and ER are not trained in this specific field, so they did not know this could be taken out or about the symptoms and they cannot get blood as I ruined all my veins. The pain in my chest has worsened since I have gotten this shot. I am not sure why I am doing all the leg work when I can hardly function, but now I am putting two and two together that this is probably a liver issue and I need to go back to the emergency room because I am scared now that I have liver damage. When I asked why they did not check my liver function prior to getting the shot, they said something along the lines of "we try to get the injection to the patient as quick as possible," but it took months to find a pharmacy so they had plenty of time to check my liver function.
They did the entire procedure wrong. When I addressed them, they just refuse and deny. They told me the things that the provider did were okay, even though they were against the manufacturer directions. I have recorded everything I could remember to, including this meeting.
They then tried to say my drug test came back positive for opiates. However, conveniently, this test came back 8 days later and they typically come back within 24-48 hours. I have it on court record that their lab has swapped tests in the past. Also, I have not had any signs of precipitated withdrawal AND I actually requested a supervised test that day. I know they are trying to cover up the fact that they messed up, and I don't know what to do. Obviously, I am headed to the emergency room for my health, but I am about to lose my job and have no income. But legally, I don't know what to do. I feel like they did everything wrong. Any advise would be greatly appreciated.

I just realized making my lips in kind of a pucker, and slightly sucking in, makes a squeaking sound, what I’d best describe as an angry cat, or a balloon losing air. When I pull my bottom lip down, I can no longer make the sound.
At first I was scared because this happened right as I read the word “exorcist”, and for the past few months I’ve been suffering from vivid nightmares and images of demons in my head, derealization and feelings of terror and paranoia that demons are watching me, and/or the devil.
So I thought maybe it was a demon inside me reacting to the word “exorcist” and making that sound.
I KNOW this sounds crazy. I’m even able to read the Bible and say “God” and “Jesus Christ” without having an angry reaction or anything physical happening around me. But my nightmares are so vivid and images of demons enter my mind while I’m wide awake, and for many years I was a very disrespectful blasphemist who acknowledged God might exist but I didn’t care anyway.
I stole, lied, watched porn (really trying to cut down on this but it’s hard as an indefinite virgin in your late 20s) and kind of idolized AI and science.
I know most people will just dismiss me as having psychosis or something, but I’ve had my body controlled against my will before and it only stopped when I begged God to make it stop.
Sometimes I just start making faces and can’t stop, a couple months ago or few my arm shot up in the air and just kind of stayed there while I kept watching YouTube, and I felt something try to enter my body again like when I was controlled but I prayed and it went away.
This better not be removed for mental health, because this isn’t all in my head. Mental illness can’t produce all of this, especially when my body was being controlled and made me bark like a dog in my mom’s face after I just woke up and told her something was wrong.
When I was maybe 5 or 6 I’d make short burst high pitch yelps that I couldn’t stop, and I’ve never been diagnosed with Tourette’s, and this was so many years before I was started on all these medications I take now.
I’m 28 and feel so strange, sometimes it’s like I’m not even me, and I can’t control my actions sometimes. They’re usually small, harmless actions, but if it happened around other people it’d be annoying and it’s annoying to me and freaks me out, I’m already afraid that demons are attacking and/or possessing me.
Nobody would believe that I have a sense to perceive other dimensions, I’ve actually had it my entire life, and I think dreams are (at least or especially the really vivid ones) actually other realities, possibly in the spiritual realm. Spirits don’t have physical forms, so our brains perceive them in ways that we can see and relate to (like creepy old men or crying screaming babies that turn out to be plastic dolls).
I don’t want to be taken away from reality, I don’t want to be taken to other dimensions. God won’t forgive me if I can’t forgive my father, the Bible says so. That’s probably why I can’t feel or receive Christ 😢
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??? WHY AM I LIKE THIS??? SPIRITUAL OR MENTAL OR WHATEVER, WHY DO I HAVE ALL THESE BIZARRE PROBLEMS AND TICKS AND WAKE UP SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS AND SEEING DEMONS IN MY MIND AND WAKING UP SO TERRIFIED AND CONFUSED I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO PRAY RIGHT???
All I ever wanted was a decent, normal life. Now I don’t even get to stay grounded in reality or feel peace or comfort, even when in the safety of my own home.
People like the police and hospital staff will just tell me to stop and/or take more pills.
When I woke up from surgery I was so confused and cussing and the nurse told me to stop cussing around other patients AND that nobody else reacted like me from anesthesia (probably because they don’t believe in the severe risks of SSRIs) but I didn’t even know what happened and forgot about existence itself.
Sometimes I forgot that real life existed after waking up from dreams.
I’m scared, exhausted, and don’t understand what is going on. I don’t drink alcohol or do drugs, I only take Trileptal, Zoloft, Wellbutrin, and Prazosin, all prescribed by a licensed psychiatrist, all legal.
There’s no way everybody else feels this way.

Background- I first started having odd unexplained fatigue & brain fog a month or 2 after a major spinal fusion that left me with nerve damage in my leg. That was over ten years ago. My pain, cognitive dysfunction & fatigue slowly got worse until a bad case of the flu left me bedridden. It was only once I was bedridden & felt like I was about to die that I finally discovered what cfs was and since then I have been using all my time & energy to uncover the reason for my illness. I was diagnosed with ME/CFS, POTS, interstitial cystitis, fibromyalgia and Sjogren's Syndrome and was told by most of my doctors that medication to help me feel better was the best that I could hope for. I don't have a medical background but I do have a 4 year degree in biology & a background in molecular bio research. Below is my understanding of my illness based on 2 1/2 years of medical tests & research into cfs, related illnesses, & the immune system in general.
Simple version

surgery + a b u s e + sleep deprivation caused immune suppression & nutrient deficiency
mild heavy metal exposure caused more oxidative damage & nervous system dysfunction
the flu suppressed immune system more & made nutrient deficiency way worse
suppressed immune system allowed for a latent virus to infect my nervous system
vitamin deficiency caused damage to nervous system & internal organs (supplementing with methyl folate prevented anemia but masked B12 deficiency)
long term inflammation caused degradation of cartilage
car accident + weak cartilage caused CCI symptoms & poor blood flow to brain
Weak cartilage also caused nasal collapse and lead to poor breathing & low oxygen

Solutions

High dose Valtrex for HHV6, tenofovir for EBV, antibiotics & antifungal to normalize microbiome/suppress pathogens
B12, B2, potassium, magnesium, vit C & E & other nutrients taken in supplement form (oral & IV)- aggressive rest while fixing deficiencies can speed up the process & aid repair
Strict AIP diet to reduce GI inflammation & only clean food to avoid heavy metals & mold
Various meds used to either control symptoms or reduce inflammation : gabapentin, Losartan, propranolol, prazosin, mestinon, nimpodime, CBD, celeboxib, etc.
Treatment for cP T S D including avoidance of toxic people
Ongoing physical therapy to maintain a healthy posture
Limit exposure to toxins/toxicants by not wearing makeup or using commercial skincare products & wearing a mask in bad air quality (near cars, suspected moldy environments)
Use silicone nasal dilators until cartilage has been repaired - especially at night!

More Detailed:
Initial trigger - a combination of sleep deprivation, severe emotional trauma and the physical trauma of a spinal injury/surgery suppressed my immune system enough to allow latent viruses the opportunity to suppress immune function, putting my body into a hypometabolic state (weather the body does this intentionally as a part of a healing cycle or an infective agent forces the body into this state like with HIV/AIDS is still unknown)
The surgery also put a huge demand on my body for certain nutrients, like b12, that it needed to repair and replace lost cells. My recovery from the surgery was much slower than expected. This is likely due to the fact that low grade GI inflammation combined with a genetic inability to convert b12 into the usable form, methyl-b12, at a fast enough rate ended up giving me a functional b12 deficiency. This means that a blood test for b12 will appear normal, but my body was still lacking it.
Later on I experienced some lead exposure that technically was not bad enough that it should have caused symptoms. However, a nutrient deficiency makes you even more sensitive to heavy metal exposure and likely contributed to my nervous system and immune dysfunction.
Catching the flu was a huge stress on my system that left me bedridden. It likely depleted my stores of vitamins even more. At this point I likely had a vitamin B2 deficiency as well (it appears that most of us have B2 deficiencies https://www.pnas.org/doi/full/10.1073/pnas.1607571113 ). My very weak immune system could not control things like normal bacterial levels so I ended up with a chronic low grade sinus infection and possibly a bladder infection as well. I also had minor candida overgrowth in my mouth.
After the flu is also when I started experiencing symptoms that ended up being a localized infection of my nervous system with HHV6. Things like severe pain in my head/neck/spinal cord. I didn't have a fever or elevated white blood cells because my body was too weak to have a normal immune response. I had to repeatedly go to the ER with horrible headaches before they were willing to run a PCR on my CSF which required a spinal tap (not fun!)
After a bad car accident I started having both CCI symptoms and POTS symptoms. The POTS symptoms seem to be caused by the nervous system dysfunction due to lack of b vitamins. The CCI symptoms cleared up after 4 months of neck PT which indicates that they were caused by the mechanical stress of the accident.
Sometime after the car accident I also was diagnosed with interstitial cystitis and had horrible bladder pain. It was like every part of my body was falling apart. After a few months of awful bladder pain I ended up getting my first vitamin infused IV. At the time I was just hoping that the IV fluids might help with my POTS symptoms but was pleasantly surprised to find that it also gave me a noticeable burst of energy that lasted about 2 days. That was my first indication that my body was not getting enough vitamins via digestion. The IV’s were very expensive so I could only get one occasionally, like once every couple months. But looking back the worst of my IC symptoms started to subside after a couple B12 injections. Some people believe that IC is caused by a B12 deficiency: https://www.ic-network.com/barbara-flanigan-her-thirty-year-journey-to-discover-the-cause-of-ic
*Important notes on B12 & the nervous system-
B12 deficiencies are often missed because the doctor will only check b12 serum levels. Methylmalonic acid and homocysteine are critical tests to make a diagnosis. Understanding your genetics is also important because some people cannot tolerate folic acid and need to take methyl folate instead. Some people cannot turn b12 into methyl b12 very well. And in rare cases some people have genetic cobalamin metabolism disorders where some forms of b12 are very toxic to them. (I used nutrahacker.com to analyze my genetics but there are other options too) People can also have functional B12 deficiencies where their B12 levels are normal but they are lacking a cofactor for B12 or they are lacking the transport proteins that bind to B12 and safely move them around in the body.
Nerve tissue is very different from other tissues in the body. Nerve tissue lacks the blood flow that is seen in the muscles & skin. Typically a vitamin deficiency is considered "corrected" once the blood levels of that vitamin reach a "normal" level. While this might be good enough to deliver those vitamins to most parts of the body, it doesn't mean that the nervous system is all set. It can take a very high concentration to get adequate levels into the cerebral spinal fluid. It can take a very long time to correct the damage done to the nervous system and unfortunately in some cases the body might not be able to repair itself. If you suspect that you have nervous system damage from low B12 you will want to supplement for at least 6 months to a year(s) to see significant improvements.
It's also important to realize that a positive or negative reaction to B12 can indicate a deficiency. Often people have a positive experience at first and then a negative experience. This is due to something called refeeding syndrome and it's an indication that other minerals or cofactors need to be taken with the B12. I first had to increase my potassium levels and then magnesium as well when taking high B12. It’s been a delicate balance of figuring out exactly what my body needs. I used to take a lot of salt because of the POTS diagnosis but now salt makes me sleepy because it reduces potassium. More information on how to supplement B12 can be found in this thread https://forums.phoenixrising.me/threads/active-b12-protocol-basics.10138/ (Freddd’s protocol is what I have been following - there’s lot of good info there if you have the energy to dig)
I've only had a handful of B12 injections and have been on high dose sublingual/oral b12 for a pretty short period of time now (relative to my 10 years of illness). As expected the non-nervous system issues have started to resolve first, things related to cellular repair like my really dry skin and cracked lips. My interstitial cystitis also appears to either be gone or at least in remission. I can also wear a bra without having bad muscle spasms (pretty sure that was due to low potassium).
I feel good now. I am awake during the day and no longer have chronic pain or fatigue. I only experience fatigue or other symptoms if my body starts to run low on an electrolyte and then I can quickly correct it. My vision has started to get more clear, I can handle temperature changes better and I don’t wake up with numbness in my hands. I even spent New Years dancing all night and didn't crash from it! These things do not improve overnight, you have to stick with treatment!

P.S. This is not a complete story of my illness & search for answers. I left out the many other things that I tried that didn't work because I was trying to keep this as short as possible while still being useful. I'm working on writing up some things that might be useful for other people with CFS but now that I know how depleted my nervous system has been I am working at a snail's pace. Healing requires rest and while I am much better than I was I still have healing to do.

I didn’t sleep much over that weekend. Time and time again, I was there. The nightmares began at one point and ended at another; the next time I tried to sleep, I resumed the experience. Last night, the scenario started over. I had never been more frightened to close my eyes. Even when I dozed off, I was there. I had decided to meet with both Dr. Schlosberg and Dr. McIlrath on Monday after our prep work for Jared’s turn in the tube. What I said visibly alerted them.
“Jesus, why didn’t you tell us this was happening to you, Mikey?” Dr. McIlrath’s supposed disappointment felt like a paper cut between my fingers.
“I thought that it was—Idk, I just didn’t want to talk about it. I thought it was just a minor side-effect of having reexperienced a vivid…a memory like that.” I felt like I was begging to not be seen as a liability.
“So, you haven’t been able to sleep a full night’s sleep since Friday?”
“…Since Thursday,” I admitted.
“Since after the experiment, then,” Dr. McIlrath added.
“Yeah,” I answered, a bit hurt.
I think Dr. McIlrath noticed my depressive state. “I understand why you didn’t want to come to us immediately, son. We’re all wrapped up in making sure that that QuantREM is a success and you,” alluding to our most private talks, “are not typically an open book kind of guy, but your safety, as is the safety of the rest of those participating in this experiment, is absolutely paramount to both Dr. Schlosberg and me,” he gave me a sympathetic look and put his hand on my shoulder. “Better late than never, Mikey. The only question is what we do now. Would you like to be given some time off?”
“No, not at all. The experiment is, like you said, very important to me,” I looked over at Dr. Schlosberg, “I did some research, and I was wondering if you could write me a script for Prazosin.”
“For the nightmares,” Dr. Schlosberg added.
“Yes, I am fine. I am just being bothered by vivid nightmares of what happened. I feel like all I need is a month’s worth of good sleep, without any dreams.” I looked pleadingly at Dr. Schlosberg.
“That medication is used for people suffering from PTSD, Michael. I would need to diagnose you in order to write the script and we’d need to meet more than once, as patient and doctor, in order to do it correctly.”
I felt like I was on the cusp of begging for a one-off exception to whatever rules she needed to follow as a professional until Dr. McIlrath interjected. “Mikey, can you wait here for a moment. Dr. Schlosberg, may I speak with you in private, please?”
Dr. Schlosberg looked slightly puzzled but acquiesced, “Sure, we can talk for a moment.”
They talked for about 40 minutes before coming out. Dr. Schlosberg approached me, “Okay, Dr. McIlrath has convinced me that solely for the good of you I can confidently prescribe you a month’s supply of Prazosin. I’m going home now to put in the order, and you should be able to pick it up from any pharmacy the next evening. Sound good?”
I felt like the anvil in my stomach had been turned into balloons. “Yes, that sounds great. Thank you so much, Doctor.”
“I still want you to start making weekly visits to me to make sure that your mental health doesn’t further degrade.” Dr. Schlosberg was staring daggers into me, and I knew that no amount of reassurances that the drugs was all I needed would dissuade her.
“Okay. That’s fair, I guess.”
“It most definitely is, Michael. What date and time would be good for you?”
I felt immediate apprehension; I needed the drugs, but it felt too soon to be committing to regular therapy. “I really have to start going to therapy?”
“If you want the medication, you have to meet me halfway on this.”
I sighed, “I can do next Friday at 3:30.”
“Good, I’ll meet you at 3:30 at my office next Friday. Now try and get some sleep, Michael.” Dr. Schlosberg looked back at Dr. McIlrath who was hanging in the doorway to their office. “Dr. McIlrath, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Same. And thank you,” he said with earnest appreciation.
After Dr. Schlosberg left the former gym, I got up and asked Dr. McIlrath, “What did you say to her?”
Dr. McIlrath had a slightly regretful look in his eyes, “I hope you don’t get angry with me, Mikey, but I did tell her many of the things you’ve told me over the year during our little talks. I’m sorry, but your eyes say it all: you’re troubled and need help. And if you still want to be a part of QuantREM, then you need therapy. I sincerely apologize if I broke your trust, but you’re a valuable part of the project and a valuable student in general.”
I looked down, considering what he’d told me. I must’ve taken years to suck all of the air in the room through my nose and cycle it out, but Dr. McIlrath patiently waited for my response. “I understand,” I did. “I know you, you and Dr. Schlosberg, just want to help.” Of course, I was hoping to steer clear of therapy and talking about what was bothering me so I could deal with it my way, but it felt like a fair concession considering the psychological effects I was experiencing. “You haven’t broken my trust. Thank you.”
A big smile crossed his face, as if he was in great relief, “I’m glad you see it that way, Mikey. Go home and try to sleep now. We’ll figure this out. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”
That night the nightmare was far more intense than it ever had been before. It was like the nightmare was a parasite, trying to protect itself or get as much out of me as it could before I killed it. This time, when I screamed Marcus awake, I didn’t throw him into the wall. So, at least there’s that.
* * *
It had been three days since I started taking the Prazosin and I was sleeping better than I ever had, even before the dreams began. I was grateful to be able to sleep and it showed in my behavior towards others. I was, to others, inexplicably much more talkative and cheerful. I had even decided to actually participate in therapy when it came around and not just go through the motions. I feel like I had dodged an existential bullet and felt like I should take advantage of the opportunities afforded to me through this second chance.
Dr. McIlrath had decided to push back Jared’s turn in the tube by a couple of months. I had given Dr. McIlrath my permission to explain to Dinah, Samuel, and Jared what I had been experiencing since I had got out of the tube. At first Jared was extremely disappointed, but he became understanding when the details had been laid out before him.
One of the things I had decided to do, in preparation for therapy, was to journal many of the things in my life that I felt had perniciously affected my overall mental health. In those last two days, I must’ve filled half of a composition book with traumatic events. The first entry was what had happened at 4-H camp with David, which was the most difficult thing to write, especially as a man; after that, it felt like those memories went from a piddling drip to a downpour. If I hadn’t written everything bad about my life down, I am certain that I had written the worst.
I had decided to join Jared, Dinah, and Samuel for dinner before we went to Manny’s. When the current crew had been initially formed, they had invited me out after school multiple times before and I had always said no and predictably the invites had teetered off to none. This time I took the initiative and asked to come, and they obliged. Despite my newfound will to be more extroverted, this time, hanging out with people I had been working with for over a year now for the first real time, as actual people, was admittedly terrifying. However, Dinah took most of the weight off my back by shit-talking this one girl she had been partnered with in a lab.
“I mean, Jesus Christ, I don’t even know why this bitch is taking neuroanatomy,” she sighed in frustration, “I know I shouldn’t be calling her names and shit and shouldn’t be so mean, but she couldn’t keep her fucking hands steady at all. I kept on asking, “Do you want me to do it,” “If you can’t do it, that’s okay,” and on and on. She just said, “No, I’ve got it,” with a little dumb-ass attitude about it. Anyways, when she cut into the brain, her hands jerked and she spasmed or whatever and cut into the parietal lobe.” Dinah clenched her fists, and she bared her teeth as her face cringed in anger. “She literally made this big gash in the lobe, and we had to work around her fuck-up.” She threw a napkin down. “She was so confident and—ugh. I could’ve done it and we would’ve been fine. I just can’t stand it when I get paired with incompetent people who don’t know what they’re doing.”
Samuel patted her back, “Don’t worry, Hannibal, you’ll get another chance to meal-prep.”
“Fuck you,” Dinah spat back lightheartedly.
It felt good being around people, for the first time since I can remember. Everyone was enjoying the moment and I felt relaxed. When the laughter died down, Jared said something to me, “So, I think I can speak for everyone, Michael, that you’ve been…different, y’know?”
He addressed me while I was chewing something. I put a finger up as I shoved my lasagna down my throat. “Yeah, I guess I have.”
“Was it really that bad?”
I took a moment to consider my answer. Even though I felt like being more open, I didn’t want to be in the spotlight and much less wanted them to feel sympathy for me. “I mean, it was intense. Very intense.” I looked around and I noticed that I had everybody’s attention.
“It looks like you’re getting better, though. At least that’s what it looks like. Are you?”
“I think so.”
“He probably doesn’t want to talk about it, man,” Samuel said in his usual casual monotone.
“I don’t mean to pry, by the way, man. I’m just curious about what it was like. And let me add, I’m not jealous that you got to go, and they had to push me back. I don’t know if I was coming off that way; and if you don’t want to talk about it that’s completely fine.”
“No, it’s fine,” my desire to talk had been moderately whetted. “I guess the best way to describe it is to point out something that’s obvious to all of us: memory is faulty. We rewrite mostly everything that we think that we remember. While the contents of memory may be generally true, the finer details of anything, from relatively trivial ones to traumatic ones, that we remember is suspect. We can all agree to that, right?” Everybody shook their heads. “Alright, then. Now, being in the tube is something else entirely. We know how it works, but experiencing that traumatic memory again, beat for beat, is terrifying. I don’t know why or how the dreams came to be, maybe dreaming in the machine leaves a residue or maybe effectively opening a small blackhole and attaching it to your brain lasts much longer than expected. Whatever it is, it’s just repeating trauma for the first time repeatedly.”
It felt like the three of them were holding their breath, waiting for me to go on or conclude, but when it became apparent that I had nothing left to say, Dinah said, “Jesus, I’m so sorry that happened to you, Michael.”
“Yeah, man…shit must’ve been incredibly rough,” Sam added. He sounded implicitly like he didn’t know what to say and went with the safest response. I think I liked Sam the most. He was reticent, but socially competent and easygoing. He made me feel secure that I could keep this outgoing persona going.
“Fuck, dude…” Jared said, looking like he was rethinking his participation in the experiment. At that moment, I felt like Jared, and I were doing this for similar reasons, although he seemed to be more concerned with, I believe, fixing himself rather than having a mission focus like I was.
“Yeah. But now, I feel like it needed to happen. I wasn’t exactly dealing with everything that happened in the most healthy way, I guess. I just buried it. It’s always been there, in the back of my mind, but I kept my head down and worked; I used it to motivate me through school, through life, etc. But now I’m going to deal with it by going to therapy. I’m just glad that, while this was incredibly deleterious at first, it didn’t get out of hand.”
“Yeah, I hear you, man,” Sam replied. “Therapy really helped me throughout the years.”
“Me, too. Plus, Dr. Schlosberg is well respected in psychology; so, you’re in good hands. She’s not my therapist, but I’ve read plenty of her papers and, while she’s not as prolific as Dr. McIlrath, there’s no doubt that she knows her stuff. It’s no surprise that Dr. McIlrath chose her to watch over us during QuantREM.”
***“Well, shit,” Jared laughed, “I guess that leaves me on the outside for once. I’ve never thought to seek help out; it’s just not what was expected of me growing up, but hearing that all of you go to therapy, I don’t know, it feels like peer pressure.”
“You got to do what’s best for you, man. Life’s hard enough without going through it alone while you’re mentally injured,” Sam said.
“I’m glad we got this chance to discuss this together. It makes me feel a great sense of solidarity with you guys,” Dinah said positively. “Who would’ve known that you,” she directed at me, “Would be the one to bring us even closer together.” Dinah winked.
I blushed a little bit, “Glad I could help,” and I think I actually smiled. It didn’t feel like my mouth was being stretched against its will; instead, it met my eyes, and I felt a tinge of happiness at my newfound, as Dinah put it, solidarity with people I had been treating like alien strangers I could never have anything in common with. I knew that they had been suffering, that’s one of the reasons we were participating in QuantREM, but for me they were more like words skimmed on a paper. In reality, there was meaning and personality in those lexical characters.
I got up to take my tray to the trashcan. After I tossed my refuse in and turned around I wasn’t in the cafeteria, I wasn’t even in the same state. I was back in the cabin. I looked down at my hands and noticed that I was still my adult self. I began to hyperventilate, “Fuck, no, no, no, no! What the fuck? What the fuck is happening?!” I felt my legs give in and I collapsed to the wooden floor and felt it with my hand. It was rough and textured the way wood is when you don’t sand it. I felt like I should’ve gotten a splinter just by laying a finger on it. In my state of terror, I didn’t notice the door to the counselor’s door open.
“Michael? Are you okay,” I turned in the direction of the voice. It was Dave. Concerning, relaxed, comforting. Perched in the doorway, I saw in his eyes nothing but desire and temptation. I shot up and ran to the door of the cabin and ran for the door, but it wouldn’t open when I pulled on it; it felt as immovable as a steel ball. “Is there anything I can do,” came from the periphery. I jerked on the door, trying to twist the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Suddenly, I felt Dave’s breath on my neck. “I know that it can be hard to be a kid, little man.” Tears began to build up in my eyes, threatening to flood my cheeks in salty bitterness. I kicked the door, and it swung open, and I ran out. I didn’t notice that I wasn’t at camp anymore, that I was in the parking lot outside of the school’s cafeteria. I didn’t notice the red shape of a car—I would be told later that it was a Ford Focus—until after it hit me, and I went over it and hit the ground. The last thing I saw were indistinguishable shapes of heads crowding me. Someone yelled,
“Give him space. Don’t move him. He could have a spinal injury. Hey, buddy, don’t fall asleep.” I fell unconscious anyways.
I woke up in a hospital bed. A nurse was taking my vitals and noticed my eyes opening, “Hey, sweetie, you’ve been out for a while. Don’t worry, I’ll get the doctor” she acknowledged, “I need Dr. Parks now,” she yelled to someone outside of the room. My back felt like a rope wrapped tightly around the throat of the victim of an execution with pieces of glasses embedded within. My face felt like shrink wrap, the bruises were as bewildering in their sensation as the light that bleared through the blinds, dazing me. I tried to sit up, but pain was conspiring with gravity, and it felt like a string was attached to my back that pulled me down. I stared at the ceiling for a moment that made me feel as empty as the space between two stars. That’s when I felt it, creeping around me like a boa constrictor around its sleeping prey. I tried to struggle but the agony refused my bodily autonomy. It felt like arms, gently wrapped around my waist.

I woke up…or something like that. My eyes didn’t open, but my vision felt like it had been turned on like a TV screen. I felt constricted and looked down. I was in Dave’s bed. His arms were wrapped around me. I felt like I had begun to hyperventilate, but much like the last two times I was here, I didn’t physically feel me react to the stimuli. I felt him behind me…
I screamed myself awake in my bunk and fell out of bed, wrapped in my sheets, arms and legs flailing trying to escape the arms of a predator, the vice grip of dreams. A few moments of screaming passed until I realized my eyes were actually open, that I was safe. I didn’t notice the light that had been turned on by my roommate, Marcus, an economics student, and I felt someone shaking me. In my sheets, I couldn’t tell who it was, and I got up and shoved him hard. I heard a thud and ripped the sheets off of me as I screamed, “Get the fuck off of me!” When I noticed it was Marcus who had been shaking me, trying to wake me up from my nightmare, I choked up in morbid embarrassment.
“Jesus fucking Christ, dude, what the hell is wrong with you?”
I stammered, trying to find the words to explain why I had launched him across the room. “I’m sorry.” I found myself running to my desk’s little trash bin and I emptied nothing but bile and water. Despite the stale acrid burning, it felt reassuring. I was in the real world. I wasn’t a child. I wasn’t with Dave. I was here. I had assaulted my roommate, but nonetheless I was here and safe. I fell over on my back and covered my eyes, little explosions of yellowy red, brown, and black teleporting from left to right, up and down. I was trying to stop myself from hyperventilating but couldn’t breathe.
I heard Marcus, “Here, man. Just, let me help get you to bed so you can lie down.” He propped me up and helped to gently lay me down in my bed. My eyes were still closed, but I heard a hollow plunk of what I assumed was the trash bin. “Here, breathe, man. Follow me.” I started trying to breathe in time with him. It must’ve taken me a couple of minutes, but Marcus kept at it, trying to calm me down. I got in step with him and felt my heart start beating at a regular pace, but every beat was heavy and harsh. “Fuck, man. You scared the shit out of me. Must have been one hell of a dream.”
I opened up my eyes and looked over at him. He was holding his head, and the wall had a semi hole in it. “I’m sorry, man. Are you okay?”
He looked at me with a tinge of anger tempered by a monumental sense of patience and understanding. “Yeah, man. I’m alright.”
“Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“No, man. I’m good. You just fucking rocked me is all. What about you?”
It took me a moment to make sure, “Yeah, man. I think so.”
“Bro, we’ve been roommates for half the semester. I haven’t heard you snore or even turn in your sleep. Hell, I’ve had sex while you were asleep in the room, and you have always slept like a log on Nyquil.”
“Good to know,” I said sarcastically.
“Seriously, though. You just made up for months of no weird sleeping habits,” he chuckled. He stopped and asked, “Are you okay, man?”
“Yeah, I am now. Thanks.”
“You sure, man? Seemed extreme for a nightmare.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I noticed how sweaty and hot I was. “I’m gonna go take a shower and throw this shit away,” picking up the trashcan.
“Okay, man, as long as you’re good.”
“I am.” I took the bag out of the can, grabbed my towel and left the room. I went outside and tossed the bag into a dumpster in the parking lot. The cool air of early October felt good against my skin. I went back upstairs and entered the showers, looking throughout to see if I was alone. Once I knew it was just me in there, I turned the water on as hot as I could handle. I leaned against the wall at first but couldn’t stand for long. I put my back against the wall and slid down. I sat there and cried for the first time in a long time. I was anything but fine.
* * *
I didn’t sleep much over that weekend. Time and time again, I was there. The nightmares began at one point and ended at another; the next time I tried to sleep, I resumed the experience. Last night, the scenario started over. I had never been more frightened to close my eyes. Even when I dozed off, I was there. I had decided to meet with both Dr. Schlosberg and Dr. McIlrath on Monday after our prep work for Jared’s turn in the tube. What I said visibly alerted them.
“Jesus, why didn’t you tell us this was happening to you, Mikey?” Dr. McIlrath’s supposed disappointment felt like a paper cut between my fingers.
“I thought that it was—Idk, I just didn’t want to talk about it. I thought it was just a minor side-effect of having reexperienced a vivid…a memory like that.” I felt like I was begging to not be seen as a liability.
“So, you haven’t been able to sleep a full night’s sleep since Friday?”
“…Since Thursday,” I admitted.
“Since after the experiment, then,” Dr. McIlrath added.
“Yeah,” I answered, a bit hurt.
I think Dr. McIlrath noticed my depressive state. “I understand why you didn’t want to come to us immediately, son. We’re all wrapped up in making sure that that QuantREM is a success and you,” alluding to our most private talks, “are not typically an open book kind of guy, but your safety, as is the safety of the rest of those participating in this experiment, is absolutely paramount to both Dr. Schlosberg and me,” he gave me a sympathetic look and put his hand on my shoulder. “Better late than never, Mikey. The only question is what we do now. Would you like to be given some time off?”
“No, not at all. The experiment is, like you said, very important to me,” I looked over at Dr. Schlosberg, “I did some research, and I was wondering if you could write me a script for Prazosin.”
“For the nightmares,” Dr. Schlosberg added.
“Yes, I am fine. I am just being bothered by vivid nightmares of what happened. I feel like all I need is a month’s worth of good sleep, without any dreams.” I looked pleadingly at Dr. Schlosberg.
“That medication is used for people suffering from PTSD, Michael. I would need to diagnose you in order to write the script and we’d need to meet more than once, as patient and doctor, in order to do it correctly.”
I felt like I was on the cusp of begging for a one-off exception to whatever rules she needed to follow as a professional until Dr. McIlrath interjected. “Mikey, can you wait here for a moment. Dr. Schlosberg, may I speak with you in private, please?”
Dr. Schlosberg looked slightly puzzled but acquiesced, “Sure, we can talk for a moment.”
They talked for about 40 minutes before coming out. Dr. Schlosberg approached me, “Okay, Dr. McIlrath has convinced me that solely for the good of you I can confidently prescribe you a month’s supply of Prazosin. I’m going home now to put in the order, and you should be able to pick it up from any pharmacy the next evening. Sound good?”
I felt like the anvil in my stomach had been turned into balloons. “Yes, that sounds great. Thank you so much, Doctor.”
“I still want you to start making weekly visits to me to make sure that your mental health doesn’t further degrade.” Dr. Schlosberg was staring daggers into me, and I knew that no amount of reassurances that the drugs was all I needed would dissuade her.
“Okay. That’s fair, I guess.”
“It most definitely is, Michael. What date and time would be good for you?”
I felt immediate apprehension; I needed the drugs, but it felt too soon to be committing to regular therapy. “I really have to start going to therapy?”
“If you want the medication, you have to meet me halfway on this.”
I sighed, “I can do next Friday at 3:30.”
“Good, I’ll meet you at 3:30 at my office next Friday. Now try and get some sleep, Michael.” Dr. Schlosberg looked back at Dr. McIlrath who was hanging in the doorway to their office. “Dr. McIlrath, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Same. And thank you,” he said with earnest appreciation.
After Dr. Schlosberg left the former gym, I got up and asked Dr. McIlrath, “What did you say to her?”
Dr. McIlrath had a slightly regretful look in his eyes, “I hope you don’t get angry with me, Mikey, but I did tell her many of the things you’ve told me over the year during our little talks. I’m sorry, but your eyes say it all: you’re troubled and need help. And if you still want to be a part of QuantREM, then you need therapy. I sincerely apologize if I broke your trust, but you’re a valuable part of the project and a valuable student in general.”
I looked down, considering what he’d told me. I must’ve taken years to suck all of the air in the room through my nose and cycle it out, but Dr. McIlrath patiently waited for my response. “I understand,” I did. “I know you, you and Dr. Schlosberg, just want to help.” Of course, I was hoping to steer clear of therapy and talking about what was bothering me so I could deal with it my way, but it felt like a fair concession considering the psychological effects I was experiencing. “You haven’t broken my trust. Thank you.”
A big smile crossed his face, as if he was in great relief, “I’m glad you see it that way, Mikey. Go home and try to sleep now. We’ll figure this out. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”
That night the nightmare was far more intense than it ever had been before. It was like the nightmare was a parasite, trying to protect itself or get as much out of me as it could before I killed it. This time, when I screamed Marcus awake, I didn’t throw him into the wall. So, at least there’s that.
* * *
It had been three days since I started taking the Prazosin and I was sleeping better than I ever had, even before the dreams began. I was grateful to be able to sleep and it showed in my behavior towards others. I was, to others, inexplicably much more talkative and cheerful. I had even decided to actually participate in therapy when it came around and not just go through the motions. I feel like I had dodged an existential bullet and felt like I should take advantage of the opportunities afforded to me through this second chance.
Dr. McIlrath had decided to push back Jared’s turn in the tube by a couple of months. I had given Dr. McIlrath my permission to explain to Dinah, Samuel, and Jared what I had been experiencing since I had got out of the tube. At first Jared was extremely disappointed, but he became understanding when the details had been laid out before him.
One of the things I had decided to do, in preparation for therapy, was to journal many of the things in my life that I felt had perniciously affected my overall mental health. In those last two days, I must’ve filled half of a composition book with traumatic events. The first entry was what had happened at 4-H camp with David, which was the most difficult thing to write, especially as a man; after that, it felt like those memories went from a piddling drip to a downpour. If I hadn’t written everything bad about my life down, I am certain that I had written the worst.
I had decided to join Jared, Dinah, and Samuel for dinner before we went to Manny’s. When the current crew had been initially formed, they had invited me out after school multiple times before and I had always said no and predictably the invites had teetered off to none. This time I took the initiative and asked to come, and they obliged. Despite my newfound will to be more extroverted, this time, hanging out with people I had been working with for over a year now for the first real time, as actual people, was admittedly terrifying. However, Dinah took most of the weight off my back by shit-talking this one girl she had been partnered with in a lab.
“I mean, Jesus Christ, I don’t even know why this bitch is taking neuroanatomy,” she sighed in frustration, “I know I shouldn’t be calling her names and shit and shouldn’t be so mean, but she couldn’t keep her fucking hands steady at all. I kept on asking, “Do you want me to do it,” “If you can’t do it, that’s okay,” and on and on. She just said, “No, I’ve got it,” with a little dumb-ass attitude about it. Anyways, when she cut into the brain, her hands jerked and she spasmed or whatever and cut into the parietal lobe.” Dinah clenched her fists, and she bared her teeth as her face cringed in anger. “She literally made this big gash in the lobe, and we had to work around her fuck-up.” She threw a napkin down. “She was so confident and—ugh. I could’ve done it and we would’ve been fine. I just can’t stand it when I get paired with incompetent people who don’t know what they’re doing.”
Samuel patted her back, “Don’t worry, Hannibal, you’ll get another chance to meal-prep.”
“Fuck you,” Dinah spat back lightheartedly.
It felt good being around people, for the first time since I can remember. Everyone was enjoying the moment and I felt relaxed. When the laughter died down, Jared said something to me, “So, I think I can speak for everyone, Michael, that you’ve been…different, y’know?”
He addressed me while I was chewing something. I put a finger up as I shoved my lasagna down my throat. “Yeah, I guess I have.”
“Was it really that bad?”
I took a moment to consider my answer. Even though I felt like being more open, I didn’t want to be in the spotlight and much less wanted them to feel sympathy for me. “I mean, it was intense. Very intense.” I looked around and I noticed that I had everybody’s attention.
“It looks like you’re getting better, though. At least that’s what it looks like. Are you?”
“I think so.”
“He probably doesn’t want to talk about it, man,” Samuel said in his usual casual monotone.
“I don’t mean to pry, by the way, man. I’m just curious about what it was like. And let me add, I’m not jealous that you got to go, and they had to push me back. I don’t know if I was coming off that way; and if you don’t want to talk about it that’s completely fine.”
“No, it’s fine,” my desire to talk had been moderately whetted. “I guess the best way to describe it is to point out something that’s obvious to all of us: memory is faulty. We rewrite mostly everything that we think that we remember. While the contents of memory may be generally true, the finer details of anything, from relatively trivial ones to traumatic ones, that we remember is suspect. We can all agree to that, right?” Everybody shook their heads. “Alright, then. Now, being in the tube is something else entirely. We know how it works, but experiencing that traumatic memory again, beat for beat, is terrifying. I don’t know why or how the dreams came to be, maybe dreaming in the machine leaves a residue or maybe effectively opening a small blackhole and attaching it to your brain lasts much longer than expected. Whatever it is, it’s just repeating trauma for the first time repeatedly.”
It felt like the three of them were holding their breath, waiting for me to go on or conclude, but when it became apparent that I had nothing left to say, Dinah said, “Jesus, I’m so sorry that happened to you, Michael.”
“Yeah, man…shit must’ve been incredibly rough,” Sam added. He sounded implicitly like he didn’t know what to say and went with the safest response. I think I liked Sam the most. He was reticent, but socially competent and easygoing. He made me feel secure that I could keep this outgoing persona going.
“Fuck, dude…” Jared said, looking like he was rethinking his participation in the experiment. At that moment, I felt like Jared, and I were doing this for similar reasons, although he seemed to be more concerned with, I believe, fixing himself rather than having a mission focus like I was.
“Yeah. But now, I feel like it needed to happen. I wasn’t exactly dealing with everything that happened in the most healthy way, I guess. I just buried it. It’s always been there, in the back of my mind, but I kept my head down and worked; I used it to motivate me through school, through life, etc. But now I’m going to deal with it by going to therapy. I’m just glad that, while this was incredibly deleterious at first, it didn’t get out of hand.”
“Yeah, I hear you, man,” Sam replied. “Therapy really helped me throughout the years.”
“Me, too. Plus, Dr. Schlosberg is well respected in psychology; so, you’re in good hands. She’s not my therapist, but I’ve read plenty of her papers and, while she’s not as prolific as Dr. McIlrath, there’s no doubt that she knows her stuff. It’s no surprise that Dr. McIlrath chose her to watch over us during QuantREM.”
***“Well, shit,” Jared laughed, “I guess that leaves me on the outside for once. I’ve never thought to seek help out; it’s just not what was expected of me growing up, but hearing that all of you go to therapy, I don’t know, it feels like peer pressure.”
“You got to do what’s best for you, man. Life’s hard enough without going through it alone while you’re mentally injured,” Sam said.
“I’m glad we got this chance to discuss this together. It makes me feel a great sense of solidarity with you guys,” Dinah said positively. “Who would’ve known that you,” she directed at me, “Would be the one to bring us even closer together.” Dinah winked.
I blushed a little bit, “Glad I could help,” and I think I actually smiled. It didn’t feel like my mouth was being stretched against its will; instead, it met my eyes, and I felt a tinge of happiness at my newfound, as Dinah put it, solidarity with people I had been treating like alien strangers I could never have anything in common with. I knew that they had been suffering, that’s one of the reasons we were participating in QuantREM, but for me they were more like words skimmed on a paper. In reality, there was meaning and personality in those lexical characters.
I got up to take my tray to the trashcan. After I tossed my refuse in and turned around I wasn’t in the cafeteria, I wasn’t even in the same state. I was back in the cabin. I looked down at my hands and noticed that I was still my adult self. I began to hyperventilate, “Fuck, no, no, no, no! What the fuck? What the fuck is happening?!” I felt my legs give in and I collapsed to the wooden floor and felt it with my hand. It was rough and textured the way wood is when you don’t sand it. I felt like I should’ve gotten a splinter just by laying a finger on it. In my state of terror, I didn’t notice the door to the counselor’s door open.
“Michael? Are you okay,” I turned in the direction of the voice. It was Dave. Concerning, relaxed, comforting. Perched in the doorway, I saw in his eyes nothing but desire and temptation. I shot up and ran to the door of the cabin and ran for the door, but it wouldn’t open when I pulled on it; it felt as immovable as a steel ball. “Is there anything I can do,” came from the periphery. I jerked on the door, trying to twist the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Suddenly, I felt Dave’s breath on my neck. “I know that it can be hard to be a kid, little man.” Tears began to build up in my eyes, threatening to flood my cheeks in salty bitterness. I kicked the door, and it swung open, and I ran out. I didn’t notice that I wasn’t at camp anymore, that I was in the parking lot outside of the school’s cafeteria. I didn’t notice the red shape of a car—I would be told later that it was a Ford Focus—until after it hit me, and I went over it and hit the ground. The last thing I saw were indistinguishable shapes of heads crowding me. Someone yelled,
“Give him space. Don’t move him. He could have a spinal injury. Hey, buddy, don’t fall asleep.” I fell unconscious anyways.
I woke up in a hospital bed. A nurse was taking my vitals and noticed my eyes opening, “Hey, sweetie, you’ve been out for a while. Don’t worry, I’ll get the doctor” she acknowledged, “I need Dr. Parks now,” she yelled to someone outside of the room. My back felt like a rope wrapped tightly around the throat of the victim of an execution with pieces of glasses embedded within. My face felt like shrink wrap, the bruises were as bewildering in their sensation as the light that bleared through the blinds, dazing me. I tried to sit up, but pain was conspiring with gravity, and it felt like a string was attached to my back that pulled me down. I stared at the ceiling for a moment that made me feel as empty as the space between two stars. That’s when I felt it, creeping around me like a boa constrictor around its sleeping prey. I tried to struggle but the agony refused my bodily autonomy. It felt like arms, gently wrapped around my waist.