My Big Psychotic Break [1]

2021-01-23 02:34:17

Warnings: The insane.

In my house

I had thought...

This is what it means to be alive.

This is the peak of cosmic love.

Everything my mother meant to me, and the mother of all mothers in the universe. 

Love of womankind and love of humankind flooded into me. 

I played this song.

It took me higher and higher as I span and danced in wild ecstasy. With love I felt the sadness of knowing I had not been the best daughter, but still was loved? That is unconditional love. However that was now all dead. There was no going back. This is my lament of scumbag daughter. I twirled out of grief and love, this was what it meant to be alive, not stuck behind a desk. The centrifugal force of the cosmos swirled my body around and around as the material world melted. Earlier in the year I had lost my mum to brain cancer. I thought I was coping, but that didn’t account for the bipolar that was secretly lurking inside me, waiting to get out.

This is part of my story of ‘bipolar mania’ and ‘psychosis’.

This is also one part of my story of what it means to break, break really super damn hard.

Only hours earlier I was simply writing bizzare posts about being gay. I made obnoxious memes that started out fairly reasonable but quickly escalated into vicious and deranged images.

The images I made in mania soon went beyond memes, far far beyond. They turned inwards, deep into a subconscious place I didn’t know I could access. This one was by far the most innocent out of all of them.


It all started when I got more attached to Medici in Civilisation 6. Her cute animated gesture of raising a glass of red wine and brown wavy hair, giving a warm smile, triggered me. 

I had this the gay?

I went wild in delirium of admitting I had gay in me. But deep down now I must admit, she also reminded me of my beautiful mom. The animations and her warm gaze broke me. Her look of contempt was so appealing it made me long for being looked at, even like that.


I span and danced to Touhou music for hours in the darkness. This was my mad ritual, the cute vocals in the songs always filled me with warmth. I have thousands of these cutesy girly songs downloaded, year after year of finding album art online and assigning it to the files, painstakingly arranging it in Google music or Spotify. I felt the world swirl around me and my body turned, turned and turned like a puppet.

Suddenly a thought hit me like a brick. Have I had crushes on girls for a long time but never acted on them consciously? I laughed first but then was horrified finding similarities between male characters I have obsessed over and girls I once knew.

Girls from my past that either tormented me or were too nice to me, I reflected on all of them. Had I even wanted to be with any of them in that way? I posted about this, jokingly calling myself a ‘pokemon’ that is unable to breed outside of its own egg group. In reality, I think I just regretted losing their companionship as I moved places. Had they ever thought of me too? Just maybe once visualised me in their mind, like I had with them? I’d felt this bitterness follow me around my entire life.

Was I just another nobody whose existence meant nothing?

Insanity cuts so raw, so many wounds from the past re-opened to show my nasty flesh. It washed over me with a sickening feeling. 

In my mania, I thought I could love a woman. In my sanity now, I don't feel this way....but at this moment I was hurting so hard.

I have always done something wrong. In my insanity, I just felt a horror of wondering if maybe I made some irreparably wrong choice with sexuality somewhere along the way. Fear of sex, fear and sex, of any gender and of anyone.

You don’t know what it’s like to love anyways. It’s always been that way with you, you loser.

I imagined the voices of those girls deriding me. Loneliness and regret washed over me. A despair of feeling like my entire life was a joke. People had found out my secret,  I couldn’t live with myself. I remember curling up rocking on the floor, only hearing my voice speak in the videos I had posted. A feeling of being outside of my body. 

My computer and body decorated with My Little Pony stickers.

Did I have to be penetrated?

The next second I was sitting at my computer. I had written a blog post that was a bit upsetting or something, since people started to reach out to me. I do not remember most of its contents, what I do remember is what came next. I fully blacked out, this being something that manic people do where they lose chunks of time. When I came to, I was still sitting in the pitch darkness of my apartment, my screens the only light source, but new text was on the post. Below this once innocent meme I had made, text read in bold heading;

"I have repressed it."

I had written that, unconsciously? I felt the eyes of the characters staring at me with not malice, but judgement. They shone red, looking down on me with whites showing.They knew my evil. They saw my filth. Repressed what? An ability to love women? Is it wrong? What else am I hiding at the back of my mind? 

I'm scared. What have I done wrong?

Because mom would hate me?

When the eyes of these characters locked on me and I shuddered and pleaded ‘no’. I couldn’t stand them seeing me down to my rotten core. It was too much. They were the girls from my past saying more than hating me, they said they really couldn’t care less.

I saw a recent picture of myself, I jumped when even my own dark eyes stared back at me with an empty gleam. An empty evil. I was seeing myself outside of myself.

That is not me.

Is that me? 

Who, was I just then. 


It was Koishi Komeiji. I felt it was Koishi’s spirit, a character from the video game series Touhou Project. Koishi represents the unconscious mind. 

Anyone who says Koishi is overrated does not know her spirit. Her spirit plays with you when you are manic. In a dark place with no self awareness to recognise what you are going through, that is when she dances around you. She is here. She is in the blank spaces of unreality that I would soon come to experience as psychosis.

I whimpered and clawed at my head, because even these stupid fictional characters I had cherished, thought I was scum. I wanted love from a woman so much. Just anything. I confused which love I wanted.

I blacked out again. The next time I came to, the post was thankfully empty and white as fallen snow. As soon as I could, I deleted the entire post. Then deleted it again out of the trash. I didn’t want to see that again. I am still scared. I had no recollection of writing these things. They all streamed from a subconscious place I could never access if I was sane. I remember starting to become perfectly ‘empty’ as I started writing, but don’t remember the rest. 

Another time I blacked out and wrote a post starting with the line of;

 ‘There is a side of me nobody has ever seen’

Who was the secret self. I stared at my screen, these horrible intimate details flooded out of me as I typed like I was possessed, all alone in my unit.

There was a child in me that just wanted to type spastically, be a neopet and roll on the grass but who killed her? Was it ‘society’? No, I couldn’t lie, it was nobody else's fault…

I killed her.

I killed little spastic Koishi.

I wanted to cry, but by now I was far too insane. Far too broken. As if mining deep down, I finally had struck a rock deep down in my core, I broke it. That rock had been my sanity. I mined further and further down beyond that, beyond self-reflection. I had descended far into the bowels of the earth and was now constructing a beautiful new reality, a fantasy where I couldn’t be hurt.

I wrote on Facebook; ‘There is darkness from growing up and autistic and it going away, but guess what, my autism is back, and its name is Koishi’. If I could replace ‘autism’ with ‘loving yourself’, that's actually what I meant. 

That was the part of me I repressed all this time. 

To be continued, maybe never.....