It started I believe when I heard a voice from the other side of the room. It was night time and the shadows and light from outside made the figure look tall and lancky. He was shadow standing there in the corner mombling to himself. When I would try to say something he would pull himself into the darkness until the he was silent. This would occur every so often. The odd part was he slowly manifested himself until he wasn’t a shadow but rather a person. He has no face but wears a suit. Sometimes I see him across the street, sometimes outside my house, and he usually liked to be in the corner of my room.
But that’s only one of many things. I have smoked cannabis and hoping it would help me, it backfired and now I’m worse then before. I can feel things in my body, hear people talking and shift into my morbid reality. I have wrote these things down in a journal.

It’s hard to say all of these accounts. Even hard to write them down. Please I hope you know im trying my best to say it.

My dreams are of fire and death, and when I wake up I can people I know through walls like a painting. Voices talking, saying things I don’t want to hear. It’s always quiet before the storm.

I was raised with the option to study the metaphysical. And I did from age 13 to 22. I had 3 tarot decks which I didn’t use much. One night, I decided to open up a deck and read into my roommate and his girl friends life. It blatantly said she was pregnant and 2 days later we found out she was. It was the night of the tarot that I heard a voice. It seemed calming and had a lot to say which I wrote down to the best of my abilities. After the first night it got hard to accept and believed it was all spiritual. It was a womans voice and I thought it was an angel. Its when it said I can help you drive that I felt crazy. And the voice did drive me to feeling extremely anxious. No one knew at this time. It got to the point of me feeling violated. Nothing would ever be the same.

I am afflicted by delusions and hallucinations. I believe that some kind of a device or power opens up my thoughts to the public so that everyone can know what I’m thinking or feeling. This is particularly problematic in crowds, when everyone is staring at me and whispering about me. Frustratingly, while the crowd all know what I’m thinking, I have no idea what they are thinking or saying.

I hear strange voices, especially in crowds, directing derogatory expletives at me.

I am also bothered by the appearance of shadowy bugs crawling all over my walls. But when I jump after them to squash them they are always gone, or they were never there to begin with.

Bizarre and obnoxious odors plague me often. One smell I can best describe as the stench of an old man’s dirty dentures. Another is like burning rat excrement. Another is a sweet chemical smell.

Some times there is a very frightening sound in my house. When my family is not home I hear what sounds like soldiers marching in the upper story. When I go up to investigate I can never find them.

All of this came upon me gradually from early adulthood. It all escaped diagnosis until I was 52 years old. I had always just thought I was different and strange. I have never liked crowds. I have never had close friends. I crave silence and isolation. I pretty much stay in my home and listen to music, which masks and covers the voices and sounds. I am on Risperidone. citalopram, and bupropion. These medications have helped significantly, but not cured the problem.

I do remember one of the first times she started having these voices in her head. When I was about 6 years old she asked me to come to her because she thought someone had put a recorder in my ear.. crazy I know..

Another incident was when we went to visit my nana and grandad and she left me there because she was having another one of her episodes and noone knew where she was for about a week or two.

My moms voice in her head is named Linda.. kinda creepy i know.. but after awhile I just accepted it.. She went to the mental hospital so many times when I was growing up I can’t even tell you how many times its been. She would go into outbreaks of just bawling her eyes out and claiming that people on the tv or the neighbors next door were out to get her and i of course would have to fight her for the keys to the car so that way she wouldn’t kill herself or anyone else. She would think that people from our own family were teaming up with this voice in her head to “get” her.
She would always claim that something bad was going to happen or that “linda” was controlling all of our heads and making us into different people. It was so wild.. and during all of this madness I was trying to be a teenager with friends. But, I hid it all. I held in the pain and the hurt and put on a big smile when i went to school because i didn’t want anyone to know that there was something wrong. I was even a very popular girl in school. I was a cheerleader all throughout high school. I ran track my freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior year. I was very good at it too. I had many many friends, but none of them knew the secret i held deep inside.
Everytime my friends would ask to come over I would lie and say that they couldn’t because my mom said no or that someone was visiting and they couldnt’ come over. My mom was always an emotional wreck. I would come home and she would be crying on the couch or yelling at her voice. I would escape by sitting in my room with the music loud and the tv up. I can honestly say it made me very depressed because all i wanted was a normal mother like everyone else had. I remember looking up into the stands wishing that my mom could come and be normal to watch me run or cheer. It broke my heart. I remember many nights just clinging to my pillow wishing that things would be different. I did get a boyfriend my sophomore year and i eventually told him, the first person, about my moms disorder. He was of course in shock because yes i looked like the type of girl who was “perfect”. But i wanted to seem that way to people because i didn’t want anyone to look at me differently or feel sorry for me.
Anyways, i remember on several occasions my mom telling me she hated me. However, i knew it was because of her voice.. but for some reason those 3 words hurt. I needed someone to love and care about me. I had a stepdad and my dad lived in dallas. My stepdad didn’t know he would be signing up for this. He really just wanted out and he mainly took it out on me. We never really talked.

As of now I am trying my best to get through college. And not but 3 months ago I got a call from my uncle saying that my mom tried to commit suicide by overdosing on her medication. My stepdads brother however had walked in just as the medication was all hitting her and he called for an ambulance. My stepdad was out of town and I was in another town for college. She did live but as of right now is still not doing well. She likes to call peopel all the time like almost 20 times a day for each person in my family. It gets on their nerves as well as mine because all she wants to talk about is her voice and of course none of us want to her about it or listen to the person she has become. I dont’ know what to do anymore. I feel like she is my responsibility. Noone is my family seems to want to deal with her or care about her, and my stepdad wants to get out of it. I feel since she is my mother that i should help her, but i don’t know how and i don’t think i am emotionally stable enought
to help. THe only thing that has been keeping me going is my friends. But thats it.

So if you have a mother, father, brother or sister that have this horrible disorder i feel your pain and your not the only one. I know how it feels and it hurts.. but you have to keep strong and don’t let that person get you down.. you have to surround yourself with happy people and other family members to get through it.

I was sixteen, he was nineteen. He had been on medication for Bi-polar for a few months. For the next few months, I barely ate, slept, spoke, or moved. I began to feel split up, uhwhole and raw. As though there were two people inside me.

I first saw Lucy when I was cleaning out my closet one afternoon in August. She was in the spare room next door to mine, and though I did not see her face, I saw her feet beneath the closet door. She was standing inside it, scratching on the door. She wanted out. I ran.

It was around then that the trees began to move eerily, to catch my eye and make contact with me. They whispered to me in ways that nothing ever had. They wanted me to come with them when they died that fall, to find them on the “other side.” They spoke to my heart, to my soul. I believed them and promised to go along when they did. I began to slip into worlds that were far different from our own. Cosmic, gorgeous worlds that one can hardly imagine. The trees called me to be their own, to be their child. To be one with them.

The people inside me began to multiply rapidly. There was Lucy, who I saw regularly in the mirror. We fought and argued all the time. She poked me and pinched me and screamed at me. Then there was Liam, who was actually a real person. My friend. He could feel my feelings, hear my thoughts, see what I was doing. I had no privacy left. Our minds were connected. There were the sisters: Charlotte, Penelope, and Victoria. They needed my help, they wanted me to save them. There was the scarecrow and his alias, Lord Effiddian. He wanted to kill me, to drink my blood and eat my soul. He wanted my hair, my violin, my life. He would eat away my music and murder what was left. He was a brute.
I went on medication two months ago. My father finally realized something was wrong. I hadn’t been eating, sleeping, doing my school work, or even speaking. I COULDN’T speak. I couldn’t move! It was impossible for me to do either of those without the greatest of pain in my soul, in my mind. Colors were either grey or too intense. My thoughts were so loud that I could hear them and sometimes see them. The worlds were so gorgeous–and so terrifying. There was nothing I could do. I felt nothing. My sister cried and I was repulsed. My mother asked me to talk to her and I couldn’t. I was a monster.

Since going on medication, I have begun to recollect my abilities as a violinist, to remember that I am a human being and that my thoughts are my own. I sometimes feel that I have no privacy of thought, that there are too many people talking inside me…but it’s quieter for the most part. Things aren’t so painful anymore.

Theres a voice in my head

His name is john

He tells me to commit henious crimes.

I robbed my grandmothers house yesterday and stole all her panties.

John said he needed them to continue living.

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy john WHY

Whyyyyyyyy are you doing this to me john?!