The irony in my life is that I don't be destroyed by mental illness, but because OTHERS induce them to me. First was my ex, who her abusive behaivor, physical and psychological violence created me a deeper depression who let me to my first suicide attempt. I only leave her after six months and asking for help.
Then in november 30 I was arrested in my psychotic episode who I threatened to jump in a bridge and since the toxicology test was positive for weed, alcohol and Molly, the judge changed the criminal chargers to forced psychiatric hospitalization, and the worst part is that I don't remember to agree, or perhaps my family negociated to it.
Well, the thing is when I was recluded both for detox myself of drug abuse and threat depression and psychotic episodes, I was diagnosed for Dissiociative Identity Disorder. The doctor theory is that my drug abuse and genetic influence triggered it. Essentialy, there's at least 2 personalities in me, and the "drug user, nihilistic, self destructive and suicidal personality" is the one who wants to prevail and "take control and kill that little girl (Me) who is pathetic and a mad fairy (In reference of my short height of 152 cm)", supposedly said in a control session without antipsychotics who she (My alter) appeared.
So the public health system insisted that I'm not able to living in society until I accept my Dissiociative disorder and take my pills in a daily basis routine. But I feel even worse because the mixture of abstinence (Yep, I know drugs are bad blablabla), the depression of being unemployed (Because I'm not legally to work, at least with benefits and stuff), the lack of friends (because everybody insists that I must take the meds and living with the Disorder), the lack of my father's support and the self steem problems, since I don't have any girlfriend (I'm lesbian) and my current mental state I have a little energy to take care of hygiene routine and less even beauty routine (Doing hair, nails, make up, etc.).
I insist that my Dissiociative Identity Disorder doesn't exist and the Asenapine is only to make me more submissive and less violent (Since I had a bad behaivor problems all my adult life), and I defend that pill is destroying my brain, in conjuction of the fucking 120mg of duloxetine (I asked to reduce to 60mg but doctor refused), so ironically the imposition of a doubtful diagnosis is destroing my life.
Perhaps one of the goals of my alter is to convince me that she doesn't exist and not to accept the disorder, lol.
The only space I can venting is this forum because seems nobody wants to believe me and that sucks.