I am crazy. Certifiable. My psychiatrist will even let you know. Of course with HIPAA laws you are not allowed to know. Unless you have my permission. And seeing this how I am telling you right here, I am crazy.

Over the last few years, I have slowly become less and less medicated. I do not want to be medicated for anything. But unfortunately, due to certain conditions, I have to be medicated.

I am diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. It can dishin in which there is no medical treatment. I have four years had hallucinations. They are always in the form of a text message. I hallucinate I get texts from my mother, my husband, and now my brother. They are always extremely awful text messages. And lately I have had to ask my husband to look at my phone to see if they are real. And unfortunately, lately I have had some that are not real text messages. But I am aware that they are hallucinations. So my question is, am I crazy? I am aware that I am hallucinating these messages. My mom loves me. My brother loves me. My husband loves me. So when I get a text from them with something awful, I should just assume it is not real. And I am learning to do this. But being responsible for your own craziness has its downfalls. For one thing, my husband is aware of my Illness. But he has to be. Someone has to tell me those damn text messages aren’t real.

I asked my husband if I should write this blog. He said that my question reminds him of a show he watched called, Alfred. It was about a man who saw his dog talking to him and came to realize it was a hallucination. Although the show ended with the man deciding that he wanted to live seeing the dog, even though he knew it wasn’t real. I don’t know exactly how this compares to my ordeal, but my husband says it does.

Being crazy is not all it’s cracked up to be. On top of dying last year, I have to deal with hallucinations in life. I had to deal with hallucinations in a coma that seemed to go on for years. I am not kidding. The coma for everyone else was 6 days. For me it was years. It was Purgatory. It was terrible. Dad and for some reason that damn life support kept me alive and brought me back to Earth to live this existence with my craziness. I was hoping maybe I would come back without the borderline personality disorder, but that was not the case. I should be happy. I came back exactly still me. Many people can’t say the same thing. Many people cannot come back from what I have gone through. I am blessed. I know this. But I also know that I am not normal. And that is okay. I am quite content being me. I just do not want to go on extra medication. After 20 years, I am finally off oxycodone. I no longer take Duloxetine. I no longer take SS ours or SSRI is there any antidepressant, I deal with my mental capacity in my own way. But we still have not answered the question, if I know I’m crazy, am I crazy?

I have decided, that at least for today, I will live like my husband’s friend in the show Alfred. I am aware of these hallucinations. I do not want to be medicated for them. I just have to accept that they happen and they are not real. I think all of us have things like this in life we have to deal with. Unfortunately, in America, the answer to everything is medication. But I think the answer to my question is just this… yes you are crazy. But that is okay. You got to experience death, you know what’s going to happen after you die and you no longer have to fear death. All you have to deal with are some stupid hallucinations of text messages. I think I’ll deal with it for a few more years. I’m not ready to go. So yes. I am crazy. But My Crazy Life is worth every minute