Will the doors of our perception ever be cleansed?
Hello, one and all. I am… A newbie poster. *confetti*
I hear things. I hear and see people that aren’t there when I double take or listen harder. When I search my home, no one but myself can be found. Some say it’s stress, some say it’s being tired… Some say I’m crazy.
I don’t know the cause or case, I just know it’s been happening my entire life. Some days I can block it all away. Some days I can’t. Some days what they say makes no sense, some days I find myself with a cord around my neck in my closet. And it’s not that I just magically find myself there but it’s more like, I know what I’m doing, I know the voices are prompting me… And as much as I want to stop, some days I don’t. Some days I can’t.
Or maybe it’s some part of me that knows that I do the world a community service in being dead…
I feel so few, if any really need me and the voices egg this notion on. I know people care, regardless of how many, one is better than none – right?
The things I see, the creatures – are they people? Are they spirits? Are they annoying? Sometimes. They cause me to lose focus, darting in and out of my line of vision like some sugar happy child, bouncing off the walls in some ill attempt to gain attention… And sometimes I can look them dead on but when I blink, they’re gone. While I’m driving, I’ll be so sure that I see someone in the road ahead of me and I start hitting my brakes only for no one to be there. Do they want me dead as well? Are they in cahoots with the voices? Are the voices I hear the voices of these apparitions I see?
Sometimes my head is a peaceful hum of background noise; other times, it is like being in a call center brimmed with thousands of workers, all simultaneously doing their damn, tedious job…
Dying would stop the voices and visions. I wouldn’t see, I wouldn’t hear. I would just be dead. I would be in a damn ply wood box, dressed in my best with my hair and makeup done as if anyone else is going to see me this way besides on that one day they hold a funeral — if they find my body. I could just up and vanish all together, couldn’t I?
Can dying really be easier than living? Can living be as easy as dying?
Good morning, world – These are my thoughts, pre-workout, pre-shower over a cup of Joe.
Despite still having this energy and whatnot, the voices and figures have made it impossible to do anything with it for the past few days – meaning I have been increasingly irritable and angry.
I haven’t gotten any work done because I can’t concentrate on anything, so the energy gets burnt off with arguments and fights with my stepdad (verbal and physical – my cheekbone is slightly bruised again, which was accidental, but I’ve covered it so no one knows anyway).
I saw my therapist on Friday and she’s happy with me – I didn’t tell her much, and my mum was going on about how ‘well I’m doing’ which is bull but whatever. I see my psychiatrist this month, and she’ll question me again. Fun.
Bree won’t leave me alone. She keeps me awake most of the night, and then she constantly with me during the day. I don’t know why my mum hasn’t questioned her being here or how loud she is of a night, but I’m happy with her not saying anything. It gives me less stress since I don’t need to admit to her that I don’t actually know how Bree gets in the house or into college with me. To be fair, she has a lanyard to get into college, so she’s allowed there – she just doesn’t go to her lessons and sits with me.
Jeremy has been visiting more often, too. I saw him for 5 days last week – only for a few hours each time, I admit, but still more than usual. And I saw him for half the day yesterday. Bree is almost constant, though.
The voices don’t stop. Specifically the angels – they’re still keeping me safe. Everyone thinks I’m handling them all now – of course they’ll think that if I haven’t told them otherwise. They think I’m keeping myself busy which distracts me from them. Nothing distracts me from them anymore. I either accept it and listen to them, or I suffer hours of pointless ‘distractions’ while I worsen everything. I just go along with it now.
My sleep is almost nonexistent, both down to the energy and voices/Bree/demons. So my days are one hell of a ride.
If I’m honest, I’m not really coping with everything anymore. I relapsed tonight after 2 or so weeks, so it’s going to be fun hiding it from family. Bree and the voices keep bringing up my tools, they’re all trying to get me to do it tonight. I don’t want to do it tonight, I don’t want to do it yet. But they haven’t shut up for weeks. I don’t know how much longer I can put it off.
My mind is losing focus, and I don’t really know where I’m going with this post anymore so I’m just going to leave it here, I guess.
Every professional I have seen always ask if you hear voices and I’m not sure how to answer. What constitutes as a voice, I talk to my self in my head all day and sometimes I tell my self to do things I know are against everything I have been taught but yet I still do them. You go so long not doing drugs or drinking then one day you hit a new low and you end up buying the things you know will end up hurting you and others. They tell you not to leave your house even though you need to make money to pay your bills and to live your life. You find a job you love where you can finally help people and you feel like you finally found what you’re supposed to do but yet after a while the dream slips and you end up no better off than you where when this all started.
You love your family you want to be the best you can be but in the end you find some way to mess up. You find a therapist that you genuinely like and then you get a letter in the mail telling you that they are leaving the practice and that there is only one other person you can see. It sucks starting over spilling your heart and soul to a person just to have them leave and have to start over, people tell you that you where doing so well when you were on your medications and when you try to go back and try to get better it seems something gets in the way.
One thing I have found out about my self is I have an addictive personality and I can’t take things in moderation, if it’s drinking I can’t have just one I have to have it all, if it’s dieting I take it to the point where I don’t eat and get it’s to the point where it’s dangerous then that ends and you absorb your self with the next thing that comes along. You tell yourself no but the voices tell you to and you argue with your self but it never works you just get more upset and end up doing it anyway. You take your job so serious that when something happens you blame yourself and you make it your fault and it eats away at you. You care so much about the people you take care of and you try to make their lives the best they can be, when they smile you smile when they laugh you laugh and you see them grow as people and you know that you did your job and you made their life just a little better, but you go home and you get caught in the same cycle every day and night and nothing changes.
They tell you that you messed up, you do one thing wrong and it’s the end of the world, they tell you that you need to give up and you should just end it but apart of you does not want to but yet you have no say in anything. You end up making huge mistakes that you can’t come back from.
I just want it to stop I just want it to end. I am sick of going threw the same rotations and never finding the right solution and honestly I don’t think it will ever come.
I love my family and I want them to know that I try my best and I really do put forth the effort but when you have had enough and just want to disappear and never be found and all you want is peace and quiet then maybe they will understand that there is no fixing what is already gone.
Gah I’m so tired of them! All day all night my emotions change by the minute… I though I was getting better 🙁 But I seem to have only gotten worse. I just want to be strong for my loved ones (you guys are of course included) you know? I want you all to know that I am here to help, but if someone needs to lean on me for strength and I crumble… I couldn’t forgive myself. How do you deal with the voices in your head?
I would trade no ones shoes to swap suicidal scenarios. I can imagine they are all just as bad as each other. Mental pain, physical pain, no matter what it is. Torment and pain beyond what most of us are capable of handling. How did i get to this place and scenario. Anyone ever youtubed what its like being a schizophrenic.. Its fun for the first ten seconds or when youre on a high then its depressing, scary, obtrusive, crazy and intruding.
Im schizophrenic almost every second of the day and meds do jack shit unless you want to be zombified do you.. No.
Ive heard shit that would fuck with you badly. Worst shit that anyone could hear and im still here telling a story of voices and mental deprivation. No one can say i can help you because they cant. Pointless and stupid. I try to blank out the voices even though theyre there. These voices respond and interact and fuck with me. Help me. But how. Dose me up on drugs and be a zombie and gain mass weight. Or how about suicide. Yeah suicide sounds good doesnt it wouldnt have to deal with voices of your just paranoid, sucks to be you in two years. Not that bad is it over and over again. Immobilizing voices. Now suicide doesnt sound so bad does it. Trying to live in a normal world without being acting or saying anything abnormal. Just a tad ecentric thinking you can fix everything but cant even fix the voices in your head. Crazy shit out there.
Trembling, tumbling, turning
Down the spiral I go
All these feelings, no one will ever know
Who’s to say this gun won’t blow
Live a day through my eyes
See all the happy little lies
Paranoia sets in, creepy little spies
Voices in my head like pesky demon flies
I can’t escape these dark skies, for all I want is nothing but to die…
I don´t know how I ended up like this.
I feel like I don´t have anyone. Anyone I can hug or touch, just to feel the warmness of the body of someone else. Everybody leaves me. I can´t sleep at nights. I lay in my bed and listen how drops of rain are colliding with my window, thinking about all the people that left me behind continuing in their way and I stayed, like glued to the ground with no chance to move on. Someone would say I finally get used to people leaving me. But everytime it´s getting worse and worse. And I, like an idiot, am waiting for them to come back and leave me again. I don´t have friends that would hold me in my worst. That would stay with me. Their mouth are full of their own problems with one week boyfriend or other shit. And I´m sick.
My dad drinks a lot. Every day. He shouts and swears and calls me and my mother names. He´s disgusting for me as my father. And like the cherry on the top, I´ve never been good enough, for anyone. I was always that worse. I´ve been alwys questioned why am I not like her or her, why can´t I do it like her or her. Why am I not her?
And suddenly it was too much for me. The scissors wasn´t for cutting paper since that. It reveals my mental pain, it gets me calmer, it makes me feel better. I thought that my life is just a big horrible nightmare. And one little sting won´t help me wake up. So I tried harder, I tried so hard that my grey world had a little red in there.
Then I started hearing voices, quiet one. They were calling my name or just talking or screaming. They were telling me what to draw. And I drew. Pictures that would be scary for normal people. And they are. My mother started to be concened. She sent me to the psychologist and then I ended up with sessions at psychyatrist. But it´s getting worse. The numbness and emptyness I feel is unbearable. The tension inside of me is too much for me to deal with.
And I´m alone, just with my scars that never leave.
These voices are becoming too much to bare. I’ve heard voices all my life, but never to this extreme. I have counted as many as 20 voices all arguing with each other but agreeing over a mutual hatred of me. Telling me to kill myself. Telling me that I’m not worth it. Saying I’m waste of time/space/and money. Calling me a slut. Saying I deserved what those guys have done to me. Telling me not to as my crush out because he’ll just reject me, laugh in my face, and hurt me like everyone else. I fear they’re winning. Slowly driving me insane. I really like him but the voices are just so loud. Telling me that he’s just going to hurt me like every other guy has done. That he is only being nice to me to hurt me more. I can’t help but listen. I have no one to say anything different from them. They scream at me telling me that I need to die and they might just win this time. I feel like I’m losing this fight. I don’t know how to fight back but I can’t help but listen to them. I need help, but if I tell the doctors they’ll send me to a mental hospital. If I tell my parents they’ll be having everyone at church praying over me. I talk to my pastor about it, but nothing seems to change. I am strong in my faith and know without a doubt that God is real through things that I have witnessed and felt. But I just wish that sometimes my prayers wouldn’t go unanswered…. I don’t know if I’ll be back… I honestly just want this all to end…
i know that my parents love me and want the best for me since I’m their only daughter but they don’t have to be rude about it. I stopped cutting 2 months ago after breaking a 3 year period because of my mother. She calls me a dumba** because i forgot to wear my brace while playing basketball with the guys at my school, I don’t understand since my doctor told me I didn’t need it anymore. Not only that but when I try to talk to her calmly she makes me cry and says “Don’t be a little bi*** stop crying, you know what don’t even talk to me”. As if I cry on purpose!! Is it bad, to be terrified of my mom? Why do the Voices in my head tell me to just end my life, would it be better? I just…I feel like i have no one…my friends don’t even believe me sometimes, can that also be whats causing my Voices telling me to commit suicide?
So this is my story of my Depression and search for help.
I live in London and when I made the transition to year 7 it was very hard for me as I’m not great at changes and my aunt died of cancer recently, so I started seeing the school councillor. So it was all going well and helping with the death of my aunt, but after about two year when I was in year 9 another of my aunts died this time it affected me hugely so my mood dropped, so with this I started self harming. So I kept up with the self harm. But in about year 10 or 11 I started hearing voices that are outside my head and they were not very kind so in year 11 I tried to overdose, this didn’t work at all and I was completely fine. Then a few months after that I tried again this time hanging myself, but the rope slipped before so I was fine. so that takes us to the start of year 12, just to let you know me and this guy were really good friends and we made promises not to cut to each other, and there would come times where I had to stop him and he had to stop me. Sadly I was not there for him one day, this was the day he jumped in front of a train to kill himself. So my best friend just killed himself. So as you can tell that made me become extremely suicidal. After coping with this heartache my uncle decided to hang himself. So that’s two suicides in one year. so after this I was very suicidal and the voices were only getting worse. So in November of last year I took a major overdose, I was taken to hospital where my stomach lining had been burnt. So I was finally put on antidepressants. These didn’t work no matter how much they increased my dosage. Then at the end of last year my nan who is my inspiration became very ill. This January she died peacefully. So I had to get over all these deaths and my best friends anniversaryÂ was coming up soon. I got through all of this by cutting. Any-ways a few days a go a friend found me a the side of a train track ready to jump, she saved my life. So they stopped my anti depressants and I am now on anti psychotics. So that’s the part of my life that I am living with and I feel sorry for the 4 therapist I have and the 2 doctors and all my friends and family because this is the way I’m going and I feel as if I’m just wasting peoples time any-ways thanks for reading.
She means well. I know she does. But, it’s my family. I can take care of them, my way. I don’t need her so called “help.” Really, every thing is going just fine the way I am doing it. Why does she have to be all condescending and know-it-all under the pretense of “I’m just trying to help.”Â Did I ask for help? No. Do I need her help? No. She thinks I do. And in my mind, that is the same as stating for all to see that I’m a failure because I am not doing it the way she thinks I should.
Who is “she?” One might ask. Does it matter? There is always “someone.” Am I really all that bad? or do the voices in my head just tell me I am. If so, why can’t those same said voices tell me to stand up for myself. Tell me to be proud and strong of who I am and what I accomplish. I’m not much, and I do even less. But I “am”; therefore, should I not be? Why can’t those voices stand up for me… instead of against me.
This is my story or just a part of it.
I hope you can understand me because my english is too bad,but I need to talk (in a strange way) about it.
I want to die since I have ten years,and I’m nineteen.
Nine years spending my days thinking about my suicide, thinking why I’m still here,wondering why is so difficult for me to die when is too easy for people who,actually, don’t want to die.
self-harming, anorexia, bulimia, pills;also I tried to have an “accident” crossing the street.
And I’m still here,hating me.
My scars are going away, but the pain is here,inside.
I went to a lot of “professionals”,who said to me that is something that every adolescent think.
I’m tired of people who thinks that because they studied in a university and have a paper to prove it,also think that can change my way to think or live.
They aren’t inside of my head to feel how is being me.
I’m trying to get out of self-harming for my girl,but Ana will be the rest of my days telling me I’m fat,and the voice of my head -which is stronger than external voices- will be saying me I’m a deception for all the people who cares about me.
The bad voices are not the voices of the people,the worst voice is inside of our head.
i had to abandon my two best friends 4 months ago. we were three and we had that kind of friendship that we couldn’t stay all day without seeing each other. we were brothers.
my friendship had started with them and along with this friendship i started to do cocaine. we all did cocaine. we were three cokeheads. three junkies. but fuck! we were three mothercuking brothers, and that no one can deny.
but when i was with those brothers, i forget about my real ones. my real brothers. my brother, my sister and my parents. i forgot my family. i and i’m sorry for that, for real. i love them all. and it’s a bliss that they never gave up on me.
and mommy and daddy, of course, they put me into a clinic.
but now, after beeing 4 months clean, after passing through 4 months without seeing my best friends – my brothers -, i reiceved a phonecall.
it was them. the two cokeheads. my drug buddies. my brothers.
it was bliss when I answered the phone, when I heard their voices. “why don’t you come here in the block someday? you stopped and we won’t let you to return. we won’t drag you to coke again. ”
motherfuckers! during these months i stayed clean, and during those months I always think about those guys. every fucking day. cuz they were my best friends. my brothers. they’re two junkies? hell yeah. but i didn’t had any other friends like them. Â i miss them so fucking much.
tuesday or thursday. these are the days that i can meet them again.
it will be hidden. no one can knows. my parents. my family. even my new friends. Â no one should know about this.
should i? should i meet them again? cuz there is a risk. there is always the risk. when reencounter those guys again, those places – there is a fucking huge risk.
there is a risk. and there is a problem. i won’t die without seeing those guys again. or, i need to see those guys again, before they die. i want to see them.
but… cocaine. i loved cocaine so fucking much.
and sometimes… comes in my head that image of us: the three coke heads, the three coke-brothers. just us, shooting and shooting, and screaming fuck you to anyone!
i need those guys, man. they’re part of my life, which is now incomplete because of their absence.
and i want cocaine. “did you ever get that feeling?”
i want to feel like a God again. just one more time.
the three gods. the three cokeheads. the three brothers.
i need them. and i think i’ll meet them again. soon. i think i’ll snort again. soon.
OH FUCK! but after the high passes, it’s just my brother and sister, both crying. sissy is always depressed. she’ll commit suicide. mommy… shes fine. but shes old. soon she’ll die. dad too. i’d wish i never had disappointed you, dad. i’m sorry. forgive me. at least he will fly: brother. my real brother. i love you so much, brother. you’re a fucking genius. brilliant. you’ll be a great artist someday. maybe fifty years later, we’ll see your name on history books.
i wish i had someone to talk.
I am a slave to my feelings of you
Trapped inside myself
Iâ€™m drowning and lost, feel horribly used
I just canâ€™t break free.
I am a slave to the thoughts that you bring
Are we even real?
Confusing the truth with traitorous things
Why canâ€™t I break free?
I am a slave to the sound of your voice
Shivers down my spine
My head tells me no, my heart gives no choice
I can not be freed.
I am a slave to the beast in my head.
Evil filthy girl.
Cannot be stopped until all my bloodâ€™s shed.
She is my Master.
Sometimes I just try to be positive.
Igrew up in a- well, not poor, but not wealthy- family. So by the way every single problem was money.
Our father left us, I have a sister that has cerebral palsy,
and well there are maaaaany negative things in my life, i went through horrible stories in my life and things that i just heard out from my mom and everything
I don’t have real friends, I mean, no one tries to hear me, cause they think that im crazy, even my boyfriend sometimes he just doesnt want to hear me or something, i think he thinks that everything that is on my mind is just a quick depression or something. He can count on me everytime, I mean.. most of the people that come to me (from 2 to 3 friends..) can count on me, but i think they just see me like a weird person that will not care.
I hate everything! I just tried to not to cry every night and try to be positive and even when I have a real great day my depression comes every night and I cant handle it.. I feel like a great stupid useless thing. No one ever tried to say something cute to me. And if they did, i dont think they meant it. Just by compromise. I sometimes think that Iwill never fit in.
I have been thinking about suicide, but I don’t have the willpower to do it, I mean, im scared, i know that there are lots of opportunities in life but i just want to disappear i dont want to hear people’s voices, i dont want to see anymore people ..
Its the most stupid way to face problems, but it’s the easier..
And, who cares if it is the most stupid way!?
You just did it and cant do anything in reverse to it!
But again.. i dont have the willpower to do it.
In my world, I have to constantly remind myself what’s real and what isn’t, what’s a hallucination and what’s real, and what are rational thoughts and what aren’t. I’ll see a person as an entirely different things. For example, I know that person doesn’t actually look like a dragon, but I see them that way. Or I see a bunch of bees clouding the room, they aren’t actually there, it’s just sleep deprivation. But they seem so real, and no, it’s not “The voices in me head telling me that”. I’ve heard that saying far too often. I’m schizotypal, not schizophrenic. It drives me insane though. I hallucinate every once in a while, but it’s from sleep deprivation. I can’t tell many times whether or not I actually heard someone say things, or if I imagined it.
I’m going insane. This drives me mad. I’m close to cracking under everything.
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