Recovery Story: Alex

My strongest feature is my imagination.  When I was a little kid I used it to make up my own versions of fairy tales, often involving horses in the place of people, or using my toys to reenact movies I saw.  Even my Barbies had well-established character arcs.  My favorite one was a special occasion Barbie doll with red hair instead of blonde.  Because she was different, I usually made her the “bad guy” in the dramas of my dolls’ lives, and I liked her the best because she was the most dynamic and interesting one.  I eventually grew out of having dolls act out my stories and into writing them down. 
The earliest indication that I was going crazy happened when I was really, really little.  I hated brushing my teeth before bed, not because I didn’t like dental hygiene, but because I was afraid to spend so much time on the side of the house with the bathroom all alone in the evenings.  I was convinced someone was watching me.  It really annoyed my father--he thought I was making it up for attention, or told me that it was all in my imagination.
When I’m at my worst, I’m convinced that there are beings all around me that no one else can see, watching me; that inanimate objects, especially the floor and large pieces of furniture, want to hurt/smother/devour me; and that I am not worthy of eating food. 
The best thing I can do for myself when I’m out of touch is ground myself in the here and now.  I engage my hands in some activity, usually knitting, cleaning or playing video games.  I also engage my senses of sight and hearing, usually by putting on a movie or a TV show.  I can’t pay any attention to people who exist inside my head if I’m connecting to people or characters who exist outside my head.   
To get where I am today, I had to fight against severe anxiety, suicidal depression and the fear that I will lose my ability to distinguish what is real and what is not real.  To be honest, I still have to fight that from time to time.  That’s what Recovery means to me... it isn’t a “cure,” it’s an ongoing process.  But I’ve figured out how to use my strong imagination for the better.  When I’m afraid of the things I know aren’t really there, I tell myself that they don’t exist on the physical level.  They’re there on the mental level, and though I may be limited in the “real world,” in my head I can be as strong and all-powerful as a superhero, or some kind of magician.  The invisible things watching me can’t compete.

Author: Alex W.