I was definitely poisoned
I have paranoid schizophrenia, and I have shared widely that I am paranoid of being poisoned. It is possible that people are confused about this because I have never shared what exactly this entails.
Mostly I am paranoid about a person putting some type of mind-altering or murderous drug in my drink.
But there is another, more likely possibility. That I could get food poisoning. I got food poisoning from a restaurant when I was, twelve, maybe? And it was the worst experience of my life.
At some point in my life, around the time I thought everything I was drinking was possibly poisoned, I started freaking out about food.
I throw away a lot of food. If meat has been darkened a little bit — either from the refrigerator or the air — I throw it out. If something seems like it could possibly have been opened, I throw it out. I throw out things that are expired by one day and always check the best by date before eating something. I got some cheese from my favorite health food store last week, and noticed the sell by date was after I bought it. I threw it out.
When we go out, sometimes I ask Delon (my partner) to taste things. If they look funny or smell funny. And of course he will tell me that it is fine, and I will eat it. I have trusted restaurants and have a lot of anxiety about trying new ones.
I got some food from one of those trusted restaurants last night. Three beef empanadas and a bread pudding, just like always. They were delicious, just like always. And somewhere around four hours later, I woke from a dead sleep. My stomach was on fire. I will spare you the gory details, but I was in the restroom for the next three hours, approximately. I am thankful to the ginger ale I had in my fridge because I am convinced it saved my life.
I did not die, obviously, for I am writing this, but there were points last night that I wish I had.
What does this mean for me, a schizophrenic person? Well I of course wondered very seriously if someone at the restaurant — a chef, or a server, or whoever — had deliberately tried to poison me. I have not taken my meds today, which has consequences obviously, but I’m too terrified to put anything not 100% necessary at the moment. I finally broke down after eighteen hours and made some ramen, and managed to eat it. I will absolutely not be eating out any time soon. I stopped eating out for years for this very reason. To be honest, I will not be eating anything any time soon that is not sealed. And I will be paying close attention to my food, and probably throwing out more than usual.
This may seem over-the-top to you dear reader, but this is my life. I do believe people are out there trying to kill me by poisioning me. And no amount or different type of anti-psychotic medication over the last eight years has ever changed that.
Such is life.
