My Thoughts Wage War

By Christina Marie

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My Thoughts Wage War is about when I was twenty-seven years old and going through a mental crisis/psychosis. An unfortunate, tragic accident happened.

Taking you through my thoughts of the night of the accident, jail, and a state hospital, I can help others maneuver through such crises in a better, more positive way.

Through my experience, I'm looking to bring awareness to mental health and how to help individuals survive through such tough times and how to keep hoping that God is forgiving, also how love is the answer...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9798889608394

Book preview

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My Thoughts Wage War

Christina Marie

Copyright © 2024 Christina Marie

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2024

ISBN 979-8-88960-822-6 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88960-839-4 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

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About the Author

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My anxiety is so high… I haven't eaten, and a week has gone by… I'm beyond petrified… I wear a veil of fear, fear the end of the world is near, fear someone is going to kill me, fear I am being watched by the enemy, fear my ancestors are stuck, scared my existence might be plucked. I'm confused… I'm not sure… My thoughts are waging war…

I wish someone would just hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. Why do I feel so confused and terrified? My stomach is in knots, and I can barely breathe. Why did I go to Vegas? Why did I bring my ex-fiancé with me?

Mom, will you hold my hand? I ask her as we are both lying on the wraparound couch in the living room. She takes my hand and continues to watch television. Dad, what's the difference between good and evil?

He chuckles and says, It's not about good and evil. I put my head back down on the couch and continue to watch TV.

I can't understand this battle between good and evil. I can't escape these thoughts and feelings…even in my sleep. Nightmares.

Why are people just watching me panic and not helping? What should I do? Am I an evil person? Maybe I am because no one will help me. Should I take my own life? Should I just end all of this? I can't take it anymore. I don't want to fail my ancestors. I must pack up and leave. Where will I go? Who can I go with? I'm alone…

I pack multiple suitcases and leave them in my bedroom. I head to my parents' room to lie on the floor, right where I used to sleep as a kid when I would have nightmares. While lying down on my parents' floor, a pill is forced down my throat. I try puking, but it won't come up. Moments later…

They're watching me on TV! I exclaim.

Well, do you want the whole world to see you like this then? my mom replies.

What if their dependence is on me to save the world? What does that even mean though? What should I do?

My mind is running wild.

I hop on the Internet, and the television is on behind the computer… My brother posts about Egyptians and how hieroglyphics are like emojis on Facebook. A picture of the all-seeing eye pops up. A memory of the pyramid in Vegas comes to mind. A movie trailer about the movie The Mummy is on TV.

Why do I have to do that? Why, why, WHY? I can't do this! Why do I have to? Makes no sense… Why, WHY, WHY? Like why, why…I can't…I can't. So why, why? Why do I have this knife? Why, WHY? Like why? Why do I have to do this? Why me? Like what the fuck? Why, why? LIKE WHAT THE FUCK, WHY?

My mind is like a child's, questioning all whys. My body is of a fighter, taking matters into its own hands. My body is winning over my mind. My mind can't grasp why I HAVE to kill my father…

Endless whys…petrified…

My anxiety is so immense it feels like a rock is crushing my windpipe. I feel like my mind is ready to explode. I'm as scared as a dream where I'm falling, and the falling seems to never end. I feel like I'm drowning, and everyone is standing, watching me go down like I'm about to be swallowed up by magma and melted into the ground.

911, what's your emergency?

My daughter…she has a knife. We need help! my mom cries.

Mom hangs up. I lunge at my dad.

"No, Christina!" he shouts. We wrestle on the couch.

One quick stab to the heart with my left hand. Shit. What if I miss? I don't want him to suffer.

Another quick stab to the heart. I run away—scared!

Pull it out! he shrieks to my mom as he's lying on the family room couch. I crawl over to the floor and curl up into a ball, waiting for the cops to arrive.

What just happened? Nothing has seemed to change in the world. Except my dad…he's not breathing…is he dead? It's not about good and evil is what he said.

My mind goes blank. My knees are pulled tight into my chest with my arms wrapped around them. My mother is over my dad, violently screaming and crying. She's trying to pull the knife out, but it won't budge. Can he survive? I can't judge.

What doesn't even seem like a minute later, people are running outside the house in the pitch dark. One enters the back sliding glass door and one from the laundry room door. Guns are drawn. I stand up slowly and hold my wrists out. So dazed and confused, I don't even know if he's reading me my Miranda rights.

They cuff my hands and walk me out the side laundry room door. I have on a white T-shirt and soccer pants. It's warm out.

It's May of 2017. My world is about to be tilted. As I walk out of my parents' big brick house, I notice the ambulance is already here.

How did they know to come through the back door and not the front door? How was everyone here so fast?

Already petrified and paranoid, I start to think they somehow knew about this happening. Blinding red and blue lights are all in the front driveway. A plum police car awaits me. As we approach the cop car, he puts his hand on top of my head to lower me in, soon to be behind bars.

While waiting, I notice a camera in the car pointing at me. I sink into my seat. My mind is still blank. As time seems to be creeping by, I notice other cars pulling up. My brothers, other family members, and other cop cars start showing. It's too dark to see any of their faces.

Oh great, now the neighbors are all out! What could be going through their minds?

Finally, the cop gets into the driver's seat. I guess everything is complete. No words are spoken. There is nothing but silence as we drive our way downtown to the sheriff's station. This is my first cop car ride. My stomach is still in knots. We arrive at the station about twenty minutes later. The cop escorts me to a room where the questioning will occur.

There's a table, a camera in the upper corner, and a shackle on the floor. The cop offers me a cigarette. Would you like one while you wait? So I sit and have a smoke. He leaves the room. The only thoughts I'm having right now are me and this cigarette. My mind is still blank. Nothing feels real.

He comes back moments later. We will need a mouth swab, please. He takes the swab with ease, and before he leaves the room, he offers me another smoke. I wish I were dreaming and this was all a joke.

Once I finish my smoke, two men in suits enter the room. The questioning begins. It's not that I wanted to. I thought that I had to. I thought the world was ending… I'm just rambling on. I barely even know what I'm saying. All I know is I'm telling them everything in hopes someone will help me. But no one really says much.

Nothing seems real right now. What is going on?

"Well, Ms. Nicassio,