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I Thought I Was a Kingdom’s Lost Princess
Psychosis can be a trip if you have an imagination.
Before the year 2013, I never really thought about what the word psychosis meant. It was a term that, even with my mother having been in and out of the hospital for years, I didn’t really equate with anything concrete in my life. Sure, you can come up with a definition just from the way the word psycho is thrown around every which way, but people undergoing actual psychosis? They need more sympathy than ostracization and vile turns of speculation.
Why? Because I was one of them — for two summers in a row, in fact. The span lasted only a few weeks at a time — usually stopped by the intervention of anti-psychotic medication — but deep in its jaws I was helpless to the things my mind configured as true or plausible. And my imagination ran wild with all the possibilities of what the world really looked like that other people just couldn’t see.
Sometimes it was as simple as having lyrics and a melody spinning through my mind, and I’d take that “sign” as having to do something with me — something that I should do or some way I should act. In a less stable environment, I easily could have gotten into bad situations, and I might not even have been here to write this story. I’m sure there are many people out there who have simply disappeared off…
