My History with Psychosis

And all that that entailed

*TW: psychosis, cannabis, sharp objects, and sexual assault*

The year was 2019 and I was attempting to self-medicate every chance I got to with cannabis. At the time, I had unprocessed trauma and I preferred to block it out than deal with it all together. This, although not a healthy approach by any means, was my approach at the time.

During that year, I met a man named Matt who also self-medicated with cannabis. Together, we would smoke once or twice a day and then later on in 2020, up to five times a day. I remember quitting therapy that year and medication because I sincerely thought cannabis was helping the PTSD… boy, was I wrong.

After a full year of smoking up to five times a day (a gram each time), every single day, I started to experience psychosis.

I went through so many ideas that my brain felt like a revolving door.

In one thought, out another, in one idea, out another… so on and so forth.

The strongest emotion I felt at the time was fear and I was becoming more and more paranoid with each day. I was beginning to hear the TV talking to me “in code”. Certain words would be said in the show Bob’s Burgers and I thought that the TV was telling me secrets about the world and about myself through these “code words”.

During a period while all of this was happening, I felt like an object. Like a physical black box that was shut… and it hurt me. It hurt to feel like an object and not a human being. I was so confused with my life. I didn’t understand anything! So I prayed to God and told him “if you’re real, I need you here, right now. Please! I’m begging you to show up” and I kneeled on the floor for what felt like half an hour-just waiting for God. Then I remembered that millions of people pray to him, so he would go to those people first. That was my “logic” at the time anyway…

At one point after all of that, I grabbed the biggest kitchen knife I could find and hid it in one of my bedroom drawers. Until then, I was the only in my household who knew that I was not okay. But even I wasn’t aware. In my mind, it all made sense. And since it made sense to me, I continued to smoke and the feeling of fear grew and grew until it started accelerating and becoming obvious that something was seriously wrong with me.

After everyone fell asleep, I woke up feeling young and tiny- as if I was a child but with an adult body. I started shouting. I grabbed the kitchen knife I had hid and walked to the kitchen with it, still shouting and screaming…

My parents were horrified. They knew something was really wrong then. I shouted at them and told them to tell me what they knew about what had happened to me as a child. They had nothing to say and cried that I please give them the knife. At one point, I placed the knife near my throat and said I’d hurt myself if they wouldn’t tell me what happened. But they had nothing to say and eventually, I handed the knife to them. That was when they knew they had to get me to the behavioral health hospital somehow.

So after less than a week of me behaving out of character, I was taken to the behavioral health hospital by my dad. When I was assessed, I thought the water was being poisoned or that they were trying to put me to sleep so I refused to drink the water that they gave me. Then I tried to leave the room. My dad could tell I was not behaving like normal and held the door open but I was so terrified of everyone and everything that I slammed the door on his arm until he let go of the door. Right then and there, I was admitted and given a shot of some kind of medication to relax.

While inpatient, I asked to speak to a therapist. I can’t remember anything about her… only that she looked worried as f**** about me and where my mind was (or wasn’t). I told her that a bus driver I had as a child hurt me and other children. She didn’t believe me, I feel. But she listened to me anyway.

After that conversation, I was still very much out of it and I thought my psychiatrist was sexually assaulting patients so when I saw him in person, I shouted at the top of my lungs” “Liar! Liar!” and that’s when I was placed on the ground by every nurse and police officer there and I was given a shot of something meant to relax me. As I was crying and panicking, I sang “Hey Jude” by The Beatles as they held me down. That probably freaked the hell out of them. I didn’t intend to be scary… but I was terrified and this was easily noticeable then.

After that shot, I was placed in the “Quiet Room” and I remember I thought my parents were rapists and that they had many children and so when a nurse came in to see me, I looked at her brown eyes, bawling my eyes out and asked her: “Are you my sister?” Once again, I was freaking everyone out but they did their best to keep their composure.

One thing that didn’t help though was that I knew the lead therapist. We had met under very bad circumstances outside of the hospital. So, when I saw her again, it was incredibly triggering. But it was then that the meds must have started kicking in because I decided to talk to the patients. But the first time I did, I didn’t even associate myself with my name anymore. For whatever reason, when I was asked what my name was, I said: “Hi, I’m Nate”.

At another point, I couldn’t talk-like at all. It freaked me out so much I wrote a note to a nurse and told her I couldn’t talk anymore and that I was scared. And they said, “it’s a side effect of the medicine”. But eventually, I was able to talk again- so that was confusing.

Eventually, though, I sort of started to settle down. I would call my boyfriend Matt (the man I had met and had at that time been in love with) and my parents. That person, the man who I met in 2019, would lie to me every chance he had. He had told me we were dating but it was all a joke to him. He cared about me and didn’t want to lose me but he lived a double life and would hide all of this from me. But he felt so guilty that he would do everything he could (but tell me the truth) to show he cared. And I loved him so much that hearing his voice got me through that tough time. I still thought at the time that he loved me and that we were dating so I wrote in a piece of paper a heart and wrote his name in the middle and kept it in my pocket the entire time I was there.

At that point, I was so scared that I started praying to God to help me. I was terrified of living, of myself, of my feelings, of everything.

When I got out of the hospital, I was told not to smoke but I didn’t listen… I really should have but I was at the time dependent on cannabis to deal with my emotions. So, I continued smoking for two more years.

In 2022, the psychosis reappeared- this time, worse than before and for a longer time period than before. At the time, an ex-friend of mine had reached out to me to be friends again. Her name is Melanie. I told her I had missed her but when we met, it was as if nothing in her life had changed and it scared me. I felt like I was back in 2017, when I had met her for the first time inpatient. And something about being brought back to 2017, freaked me the f**** out.

Before I went inpatient again, two things happened that made the psychosis worse… The first one was that I found “Holly” online on eBay. Holly was a doll I used to have when I was 6-years-old that was broken by a neighbor. I had found her online and I knew it wasn’t the same Holly, of course, but it was the same model of the doll. I asked Matt if he could buy her for me and he said yes. When she arrived, I started to talk to her every day. Seeing her was like having my friend back. But I was spooked as well. I felt so dependent on her- as if I were a little girl again. I decided this was too much for me so I handed her to my mom and she put her away somewhere in the room where I couldn’t see her.

Another thing that happened prior to going to the hospital was that I watched a movie called “La Caperucita Roja” with my mom. It was a 1960s film made in Mexico most likely by a cult. The message of the movie was to forgive bad people, even if they tried to hurt you. I cried and cried because this was a movie I had watched when I was 5 years old. Watching that movie triggered me and psychotic symptoms started to appear in me but this time, it was much worse.

Then after having seen that movie, one night, Melanie asked me if I wanted to sleep over and I said yes. I fell asleep fast but when I woke up, I felt something was off. I later on started thinking and feeling that Melanie had touched me but I had no proof. Then my thoughts started behaving like they were on a revolving door again, but this time a whole lot faster.

I started believing that Matt’s parents were Gods of the Sea and my parents were Gods of the Earth. And that if we married, harmony would rule all over the world and there would be no evil anymore or any pain. We’d all essentially be in heaven. But that I had to keep it secret that I knew. Otherwise, “the Devil” would sabotage our plans. I thought that Bluetooth was being hacked by the Devil and that I couldn’t use anything Bluetooth because “he” would hear us. I still would think the TV was talking to me.

At another point in time, I was deadly afraid of going to sleep. So, I did something risky. I told myself, “I’d rather be blind and sleep than be able to see and stay awake” and I poked both of my eyes with my finger in an attempt to blind myself. But when I woke up the next morning, I was still able to see.

I started placing things in certain areas and I made Matt an altar because I thought that Matt was Jesus. I also thought that if I laid as still as I could and smiled, that he would come and kiss me and that kiss would wake me up and we’d be happy forever. So, I laid in bed all day until my mom came home and noticed I wasn’t moving or waking up. My poor sister had to call 911 and tell them I wasn’t responding and when they arrived, they had no clue what was going on so they took me to the hospital and I after three hours- I realized Matt wasn’t coming so I opened my eyes. I wasn’t where I thought I was going to be… and Matt wasn’t there. So, I freaked out.

I hid under the bathroom sink and the nurses looked so worried about me. They got me inpatient right away and I was discharged after a week.

But the psychosis hadn’t fully gone away. Soon after arriving home, I started thinking again that my parents were dangerous and I actually ended up calling the cops on them. They knew something was way off when I talked to them and thankfully they took me inpatient right away. But this time, another one I had never been to before- which ended up being one of the worst inpatient stays I had ever had.

The psychiatrist I had thought I was bat shit crazy. And I still really dislike her for the way she treated me. She gave me 600 mg of Lithium daily and I felt insane on it- yes, somehow more than what I already was feeling.

While inpatient there, I was sharing a room with a woman who seemed dangerous. No one seemed to understand her. She wasn’t coherent… and one morning I woke up to her screaming next to me while I had been asleep. I’ll never know what happened during those moments. The nurses ran in and gave her a shot of something to relax her. But while I had been asleep that day… I remembered things I wish were not true.

I remembered or at the very least, visualized an event that had happened to me (I believe anyway) when I was around 4-7 years-old. This “memory” was so scary to remember that I mentally jumped hoops to push it away and or avoid it by all means. It wasn’t until I talked to the therapist I have now that we were able to process it.

My therapist and I think that psychosis is a coping mechanism for large amounts of trauma memories resurfacing and it cushions the blow per say. So, while I didn’t want to believe things- I was believing in other things in highly ridiculous ways to cope with the stress of the trauma. But I didn’t understand that back then in that moment.

A very sweet, caring, kind girl told me with lots of care that if I ever wanted to leave, I would have to settle down. So, although I felt really really f***** up, I did as she said and I was discharged after a week. During that time, I was still afraid of my parents but somehow realized that if they were actually bad people, the police would have done something. But they hadn’t, so I knew I was wrong then. So, I called my dad and as soon as I heard his voice, some of the reality of my actions started to sink in.

Once home, I told my parents that what I was taking was actually making me feel worse than I was already feeling and that the only reason I got out was because I pretended to act normal… so I asked to be taken inpatient. But things kept spiraling.

While there, I started talking with people who were also in a psychotic state. It was December, so we all had some sort of religious psychosis going on of some kind. I could tell. Maybe that was just me… but it surely did feel that way. I was given a pair of clothing but I thought I had died and this was heaven. I thought I was Michael Jordan at one point? And I was kind at first to everyone. When patients started talking to me, I was very gentle. But then I noticed some were more toxic than others and I tried to stay clear of them.

There was a point where I thought Matt was dead too like I was and he was reincarnated in this man named Ryan that was a patient there. Ryan really liked me. It was obvious to me and when we listened to music as a group, I asked for them to play “Creep” by Radiohead. Then his song came on: “Mary Jane’s Last Dance” and I told him: “it’s time”. We must have been having the same sort of psychosis (I know that sounds funny but hear me out lol) he took me to his room. Outside of his room, he gave me a huge Bible. He had two of the exact Bibles. I held one and he held one and I said “ready?” and then he said “yes” and we kissed. The I said “I’m going to miss you” and we kissed again. By that point, everyone realized what had happened and they kept us apart from one another. But I still had his Bible and inside he had placed a piece of paper with his number and a smiley face. After that, we all as a group had a session about boundaries.

After that, two people there were kind being super kind to me. We had like a secret code. We three wanted to protect the vulnerable women from the toxic men, so one of us would deliberately sit blocking the woman from the toxic man. We did that every group we had and it was mentally exhausting. It would take a lot of our energy. And eventually, I told one of the new patients that I would sometimes have auditory hallucinations. He was a toxic man but I had no idea. So, when I went to the front desk, I left my folder on the table. A black man who was going to jail after his stay, read my folder and shouted, “Nancy!” Apparently, he had been told I would sometimes have auditory hallucinations by that toxic man. But I was pissed. I knew what had happened and I had no patience for this kind of stuff so I said, “Can I help you?” and I glared at him. The nurses knew he was dangerous and they felt the tension in the room right away. So, one of them asked me “Do you feel in danger?” and I said “yes”. And he was taken away to be taken to jail.

Once I was discharged, I was still experiencing psychosis but it was a little easier to manage. After watching a documentary of Lassie, I started behaving like Lassie. Like an actual dog. I would obey my parents and if they told me to do something, I would listen intensely. And because my mom wanted me to dye my hair black (it was blonde at the time), I obeyed and she dyed it black for me.

During a visit to the pharmacy with my dad after I had watched a movie called “Max” about a dog with PTSD, I felt like him (Max) and I started to look for danger in my surroundings. I noticed a man was looking at a child for a long period of time, so I did something crazy. I probably scared the woman a ton but I approached her and I told her (in front of her child): “that man is looking at your child”. And she looked so concerned for me. But I noticed her fear and I knew then that this part of me scared others so I tried not to show it anymore.

I also thought though that Matt would be cured of all illnesses if I gave him an avocado pit I had painted in pink with red crosses. I thought that if I wrote a prayer and blessed the house with water that it would rid the house from all evil. I thought I could heal with water like Jesus and I thought that I was the only person who could stare into the sun and nothing bad would happen to my eyes (btw, after you stare at the sun for a long time, everything looks like you’re wearing rose colored glasses). I also thought I could talk to animals and that all the evil of the world had ended after it snowed on February 28th of 2022.

At one point, I thought everything and everyone was a part of my imagination and that I had imagined everything that was happening and that going to happen. So, I truly believed I was The Beatles and I was John Lennon and I had created and written the song “Imagine”. I also thought that Paul McCartney and Billy Joel were going to play at my wedding so that’s why Matt was being so secretive with me. I also thought the wedding was going to be a surprise and everyone was giving me small hints about it.

Then, reality came crashing down. Matt felt so guilty so he told me what had really been happening. He had had multiple relationships and in one of them, he was taking care of a woman and her 10-year-old child who was also named Matt. He told me they found out and told him to stop talking with me but he chose to stay. And that he was in multiple relationships with many people while he was fake dating me this entire time. Once he told me all of this, I think that’s when the psychosis went away.

I did end up going inpatient for the fourth time that year when I found out the truth. This time because of depression and feeling suicidal. And after that, for two years I stayed friends with Matt. I smoked on and off until November 18th, 2024 when I officially quit cannabis and quit talking to Matt after finding out for the one millionth time that he was still lying to me about his life.

Then in January 2025 I received psychological and neuropsych testing and later was given the report (after about 8 weeks) and I found out my actual diagnosis!

Turns out I don’t have DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) and I’m not autistic as I had thought I was… and I actually have other diagnosis which I’ve mentioned before in my other posts. I had to stop seeing my therapist because he had been using me for money by misdiagnosing me for 5 years and that really hurt to learn but I’m now getting the proper treatment and it’s been a very very slow process but I can tell there’s a difference.

I also feel really glad that I can openly talk about this very scary time period in my life and remember it in a way that isn’t as scary anymore.