Identifying Delusions

 

Identifying Delusions

            In one of my recent delusions, I thought my dad had left his wallet at my apartment. When we met later, I thought he asked me if I had brought his wallet to him.

            I simply said in my mind, “No, dad, I didn’t pick up your wallet.”

            I felt like he was furious with me. He did not understand why I did not pick up his wallet when I went was at my apartment and bring it to him. That thought caused stress, but it was a delusion. I knew in reality that my dad had not asked about his wallet, but sometimes I get swept up and the delusion seems real. I have schizophrenia. I have delusions like this sometimes, and I usually isolate myself in my apartment, because I feel like the delusions can be written on my face like a movie screen. I do not always like the word crazy, but I still fill the need to hide my crazy from people.

            I finally asked my dad. “Do you have your wallet?”

            He replied, “Yes.”

            My thinking had been bogus, and it was a delusion that still fills my brain even though for the most part I can tell the difference between the unreality, dad’s missing wallet, and the fact that he had his wallet all along. That fact was indeed reality.

            At the grocery store, going down the aisles I passed some people that again fit into this unreality that I do my best to block out. I notice an attractive woman walking past. I thought she noticed me, and then I notice the man she was with. The man was very muscular and physically fit. I tried my best not to stare. Then I noticed their son and quickly realized they were a family out shopping.

            The attractive woman was reality. The warm and fuzzy feeling I get in my chest thinking she was in love with me, and crazy for me is the unreality.

            I went down another aisle and passed an elderly lady who looked like she was in reality. She was looking at the items on the shelves. In the unreality, she tightened up and gripped her collar together and said, “I don’t think so.” It felt like she thought I was checking her out. Again…a clash between reality and unreality.

            Later I asked my dad, “Do you know what was going on in my head while we were in the store?”

            I have always been able to share my thoughts and concerns with my parents as if they were therapists. They are my trust partners, and they understand when I am confused about what is going on inside my brain—what is real and what is not.

            “I thought you left your wallet, and you were mad that I did not find it and bring it to you.”

            “Well, you know I have my wallet.” my dad said.

            Later in the parking lot when I was putting my groceries in my trunk, I received the paranoid thought that a government official was taking pictures of me as I lifted the heavy groceries into my trunk. I thought he was going to use these pictures to prove I was an impostor and could physically work at a job. I did my best to ignore that thought as I drove home.

            At home, I brought in my groceries and decided to sit down with a legal pad and pen and write my day out. Writing has always been a release for me. As someone living with schizophrenia it is still a release or even a cleansing. I write not to win awards or to be published but writing offers reflection for me and helps me to clarify my thoughts. It was funny to me at the time, but I thought the government official I thought I saw in the grocery parking lot was trying to grab my pen, because if this writing got out it would disprove his theory that I could work. Even now it feels like he is listening to my thoughts.

            I have gotten fairly good at realizing what is actually going on, but I still get delusions because I have schizophrenia. Honestly, my safe refuge is my recliner in my apartment watching tv or listening to music. Sometimes life happens, and I must leave to buy groceries, get a special treat for lunch, show up for appointments, or exercise. I must face the situation and do my best to block it out and adapt to what is really going on. I do my best to live my life even with a severe mental illness diagnosis. I am glad I have the dedicated support of family who can help me to distinguish between reality and unreality when I am confused.

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