| They way you felt after taking LSD is kinda what I have been experiencing life for the last twenty years, but not the severity as you describe. It all happened after a horrid panic attack, actually a few. I remember having a bad panic attack, seeing the walls in the bathroom undulate, my perception of things seemed different.
Why do we all seem to run to the bathroom, and look in the mirror when we feel sick? I had more than a few panic attack according to my doctor, but to this day I still don't know what's wrong with me. I am better, but I think the aging process had something to do with that? Anyways, I cried, and cried that night. I was a nervous wreck, but finally fell asleep. I woke up, walked down the hall, thanking God it was over. When I got half way down the hall, all the nervousness, tearing, etc. came rushing back. I thought maybe it will just be another day. Well days turns to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. The very next day, I remember going through the yellow pages looking for a psychologist. I really belived a therapist would help. I went for months, and it didn't help in the slightest. I did end up seeing the right Psychiatrist, and he helped, but the medications he precribed never seemed to be strong enough, and they were both addictive. For years, the only drug that helped were two 12 o.z. beers. I would hold off until 3:00 p.m., and take my alcohol medication. I tried to keep it to two because I didn't want to turn into my father. Well, I just gave up, and drank. I had good and bad days. I pretty much gave up social drinking. I knew I needed to save my liver for the bad days. I can honestly say whatever I had, and haven't completely rid myself of, ruined my life. I made some money, but it was just luck. I used to be the most capabable person in school, work, or in most situations. I got to the point where I couldn't buy groceries, without shaking with fear. I look back, and my breakdown happened after a Thanksgiving dinner. To this day, I don't know what caused me to bust a gasket. I was happy with pretty much everything in my life.
I didn't have a bad childhood. I was just a twenty something trying to finish school, and have a life. Growing up some people use to kid around with me, and say stuff like "_________you seem like the type that doesn't need drugs to have a good time?" I would laugh it off. Anyway, maybe they saw something in me, I couldn't see? Even though I had hair half way down my back, I didn't take drugs.
I drank beer, and maybe had five joints up to my breakdown, but psychadelics, and any illegial drug was definitely out. I never told anyone. I didn't want to come across as "that guy". I recall in second grade, the teacher made us watch a movie about taking drugs. The guy was just doing normal things, took a drug, and his world was a spinning vortex. I remember thinking, why would anyone do this to themselfs? I've even carried this fear up to this day. Who would have known my brain tripped out on its own? I know this, because of that event, it's been sheer luck I'm not homeless. Sheer luck! I could be homeless within a week? As to mental health professionals; they try. They definetly know more than the family doctor. |