I think I've descended into schizophrenia.

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Frankel

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#1
From prolonged isolation. Today, I had such an intense fantasy that Kathy Bates (or Frances Lacey from the 1993 film, "A Home Of Our Own") was allowing me to squat in a shed on her Idaho property and trusting that I was a kind and harmless soul but eventually telling me to stay away from her family that I believed the fantasy was real. And a neighbor had some man over to his apartment today and the man without knowing me mouthed off to me. In reality. Now I've just had a fantasy that the unknown man is affiliated with organized crime and that I'll have to contact the FBI to report him for harassment. I don't even know who he is though. He may be no one. But he mouthed off to me and I don't even know him. Right in front of my home. I'm in awful pain, too. My hands hurt everyday. Probably the radiation from holding this android. And last night for the first time ever, I lost half of an Ambien tablet at midnight. It just vanished. I can't find it. I dropped it right next to my bed. And it's nowhere to be found. I've never lost a pill. Of any kind.
 
vanish

vanish

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#2
Are you sure these experiences aren't because of the Ambien? I used to think strangest things on sedatives.
 
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Frankel

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#3
Of course I'm not sure. I'm on drugs. Drug use leads to psychosis. So I'm just making everything worse by continuing drugs while I'm under stress. It doesn't matter if Ambien is worsening it because I'm only allowed ten per month. I usually break them in half to make them last three weeks. I really feel sick. My tongue and throat and nasal passages are always irritated in some way. I hope I don't puke tonight. Or flip out tomorrow and have to hide in my bedroom from now on. Imagine having all of your neighbors trying to drive you out of your own home. I feel like the Trunchbull at the end of Matilda. Except she deserved it. I've done nothing to deserve this.
 
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