Hearing Voices

Hearing voices has had a very profound effect on me. You are persuaded and yet then manipulated by the very sound. The very presence, idea and thought of someone else speaking in your mind! Speaking for your mind! It's scary, frightening and yet all at the same time you somehow feel comforted. Sometimes you feel like you found a friend. Other times you awake to your worst enemy. The very first voice I heard was of somebody in an authority position in my life. Someone I worked for and respected. Someone who was kind, gentle and reminded me of Dad. His voice was calming and soothing and made me smile. He was very well-loved by many. I used to hum a tune to myself while working. It helped pass time. I typically have a sunny disposition toward life and live with a carefree approach. Anyway, one evening at work I was humming to myself when I stopped to perform a task. When my humming stopped, I heard a voice...a whisper say, "Don't stop. Keep singing." I turned to find no one around. When I went back to continue my task, I looked up to see my well-respected boss leaving the department. It was his voice. The voice I heard in my head.

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In the Dark and Finding the Light

It fell upon me. The darkness. The delusions. The voices. Slowly. Cunningly. I didn't realize it...somehow, I just thought I was special. That God only spoke to me ! The grandiosity of it all made me feel not only special but the perks of having Schizoaffective and Bipolar Disorder caused a flight of feelings like no other. It made me feel free, unconcerned, creative and powerful...and then I would hide away. Embarrassed, ashamed, empty and depleted. It's like a reserve of these feelings were percolating inside...just waiting, ready...to erupt.

In the Thick(et) of Schizophrenia and Bipolar

Years ago, I lived in a tiny one-bedroom basement apartment. It was situated off a very busy road and it was a hidden gem. I loved it not so much for the charm of the apartment which needed some updates but because of its backyard view! Just outside my double glass doors lied an oasis, a haven and a slice of the Garden of Eden as I imagine it to be. The 3-apartment house was surrounded by the top yard. It's what lied below that caught my breath. The bottom yard was scattered with old growth trees of different and varied evergreen and shady deciduous types. When I walked out my doors, I first came to a rather steep and long hill covered in pachysandra with a winding path of steps made from stone leading to the bottom grassy yard where a large frog pond lay. Beyond the pond was a shallow creek running the length of the yard and on toward the neighboring farm. The creek was filled with beautiful rocks and stones allowing the water to trickle through making music to the ear. B...

Another Night

It's another night. Lack of sleep. While wiping tears and searching fears. Trying my best to navigate a new beginning each day. I know without promise time stands against change. We condition ourselves with little meaning only to arrive at an intersection of hope and despair. Climbing escapades and downward spirals...opening...closing...to shut again. Schizophrenia. An illness forcing me into hiding. Where people don't understand and can't accept. If we cannot receive and help one another where does our help come from? Biblically I know. But if we cannot talk or share openly about mental illness then that means I have to hide. I go into hiding. We are all hiding. Which way do you want it? Tell me. Because I need to know. It destroys me to not be able to express myself about my moods, my tears, my fears, my symptoms and all the despair. It all comes across depressing. Yet, if we talk about cancer or diabetes we listen. We try to gain knowledge and understandi...

My First Hospitalization

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I Never Thought

I never thought I would be here. In a place where time seems to stand still and yet at time runs forward without me. A place where the understanding is not mine to know. I acknowledge this place, but I don't know how to accept it, still. The irony is the ability to let go and allow time to heal my wounds but yet I am locked up and frozen in parallel. Where acceptance is the mode of transportation to a future, I have dreamed about. A future I don't know where leads. And somehow it frightens me because of the fear I've lived with. A fear of everything with me and a fear without. I have lived with nothing but fear for so many years. I do not know of anything. If there is a means or a way to acceptance it has steered me off course for so long that conveying would be to reach within to a deep and dark place I do not want to face. It's defined by standards we have set of ignorance. It's defined by loneliness. It's a space set well apart from anything we have come to k...

A Journey Through the Mind of Schizophrenia

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