I was laying on my daughter's bed after a long day. I've been in an outpatient program designed to treat bipolar disorder, that was emotionally exhausting. Now that I'm finished I can look back with a sense of accomplishment at the progress I've made. While I was laying there not sleeping I saw my left forearm rip open after a jagged metal object tore through it. From my wrist to my elbow was a gap that I'm estimating was about an inch and a half wide. Flaps of skin were hanging there, but I didn't react because the next thing I saw was both of my children being shot in the back of the head along with a brilliant blue white explosion.
Once I realized the scene before me hadn't really happened I felt like the only thing left to do was kill myself. I couldn't bear to go through life knowing that I had those thoughts about my kids. I wondered if they were safe with me and then I realized that they could be taken away from me if the truth about what I thought I saw got out. I'm not sure how long I laid there or how I was able to avoid doing something life ending, but eventually a friend called. That killed the episode, after you realize you didn't see what you thought you're in a sort of psychological purgatory where you can't go forward, or back. When this happens you need help regardless of how unworthy you feel.
I've never experimented with drugs so I can't compare my experiences to anything anyone in a drug induced experience is going through, but for me the psychosis is terrifying. There doesn't seem to be a way to escape these thoughts or what I'm seeing at the time. While it's going on I realize that whatever I'm seeing or hearing is odd, but you don't really question it because it seems real at the time. It's extremely vivid, details seem sharp and clear while emotions are blunted. There's a sense of detachment as if I'm watching a movie where I can see and hear myself and other people, but I can't do anything to stop the horror unfolding before me.
Sometimes the voices tell me I'm crazy. Near my right ear there's this low pitched voice that repeatedly tells me I'm crazy. I acknowledge the voice and at times that can be enough to stop it. Other times the voices tell me things that don't make sense given the context such as the time when I had to have my blood drawn at four in the morning. I heard a loud clear voice in the front of my head telling me not to eat too much. I always have juice before I get my blood drawn, this time the facility was out of juice so I had a small container of peaches. Before that I had seen an incredibly sharp chrome scissors quivering and wavering at the target between my eyes. Please be kind to those who have recently retreated from that inner torture. You becoming the source of your own torment is an unpleasant sensation.
At times it's just laughter instead of voices. I had called my mom before bed. She hadn't come to visit and that call was particularly distressing because she sounded manic when she said she was addicted to closure which is why she put in long hours at her job. I was laying in bed when I wondered why she hadn't visted, that's when I heard the laughter. It was something similar to how the Phantom of the Opera laughs if you're familiar with that, but this was a bit different. I've been warned that certain people aren't good and I should stay away from them. That's when the voices can be helpful. The majority of the time they aren't kind or even sensible. I try to ignore them or tell them to go away, but I'm still not sure how I should respond to them telling me to go play with the bears.
P.S. I have medication for this, the first night I took it I awoke in a panic around three. I didn't take it after that, but I talked to my psychiatrist and I'm going to try it again now that I'm out of the program and can take a nap in the middle of the day if I wake up and can't get back to sleep at night. I still refuse to go play with the bears...
Update from February 14, 2017: I've since discovered that I'm not bipolar. That's only slightly comforting. I had forgotten most of this. People should have taken me more seriously when I was hearing these things and seeing them. I was almost completely disconnected from reality and in an unbelievably dangerous place mentally. I'm incredibly fortunate to be alive today, I probably shouldn't be.
March 25, 2017 I think stress is a trigger, more specifically not getting enough sleep and forcing myself to keep going instead of admitting that I need to dial back regardless of whether I feel like I can or not. I didn't actually hallucinate today, but after last night I felt dreadfully unsafe. I keep repressing emotions, I once read a book that said males will typically turn what they feel on the world while females will inflict it on themselves. I don't know what the answers are or even if I'm asking the right questions. Being lost is scary.