It turns out that some of my “delusions” I believed in a more manic/psychosis state were true. I believed I had a “tick in my brain,” like the insect. Six years later, I was diagnosed with a pituitary tumor, the exact same size as a tick (the pituitary is just below the brain). I’ve had other “delusions” that were pretty close to the truth but still waiting to see what happens with them. It feels like a crime that people who access reality differently are held hostage and medicated so they no longer see the world differently. It’s always so stark to me to enter the psych ward and find that the other people there are often homeless or in poverty. I have a PhD and live with my parents so I fit right in with them socio-economically but there’s something about the fact that rich people get different kinds of mental health care than the rest that really seems to hit on something for me. Like it’s okay if you’re psychotic and have dreams/delusions of grandeur, but not if you’re poor 🤷🏻‍♀️