Ironically enough, considering all the tags, today was a better day.
Yesterday was quite the reverse.
I was so upset and twitchy yesterday after what I remembered the night before. I was at my volunteer work, in a homeless soup kitchen, and the predominant gender there is male. I know these people, but the paranoia I was experiencing was telling me to watch my back. In fact, I was so frightened I went as long as I could without looking any of the clients in the eye properly. I kept thinking that they were going to get behind me, and I had to have my back to the counters. There’s one lad there who always stares at you, but it was getting to me so much I couldn’t look him in the face at all.
And, all the while, the voice of the dark passenger was yelling at me.
Like I say, its now got three voices. Male, Female, and Neuter.
They were united in poisonous cacophony. All three were telling me to burn myself on the pans, to use the super-sharp knives they have to ‘do some real damage’, and ‘stop being suck a fucking coward’ (their words, not mine).
I was so so upset and desperate to be with my mum. I spent the rest of the day filling in self help books and trying to down the voices out.
Today, thank gods, I woke up with a good mood.
I put it straight to action. I made sure that I wrote to people I hadn’t talked to in a long while. I caught up with old friends. I even did a couple of bits of admin that I needed to do, and I finally worked up the courage to tell my mum about the voices in my head.
She doesn’t want to accept it at the minute I think. She believes me when I say I hear the sorry bastards, but she says that it isn’t real, which my more together side knows. It is getting frightening. I hear these goddamn voices telling me to kill myself. When I was very small, I used to hear my own voice laughing at me- but if it was my evil twin, my distorted reflection, laughing at my pathetic attempts to get things right. I had ignored that and blocked it out- til now.
When at the height of my religious mania, I even thought I’d seen God, or Jesus, and heard their voices. I was convinced I had a divine connection, and my ex-boyfriend preyed upon this to convince me I was an angel. That delusion has only just worn off. I still partially believed in it for years, and have only really been free of it for the past three or four years.
Mum also said she thinks I have clinical depression alone, because I have never acted weirdly.
Oh gods, where do I even begin…
So, I know she is trying to help, and I love her so so much it is untrue, but I am very good at hiding my symptoms and I can hoodwink those I love, too. I have thought I could fly. I have believed I had supernatural powers. I had imaginary friends, like many other children, but I saw the pet wolf I had curling happily up at the foot of my bed as if he was real.
What about the shadows I see and have seen all my life? I have attracted people’s attention to them several times and I have always been told that others didn’t see what I saw. I used to say, and still do, ‘Ooh, what was that?! It moved very fast!’
The answer is always ‘Sorry, I didn’t see it.’
The other things I have seen was when I saw demons.The shadows aren’t too bad- they remind me of a cat, or a bird maybe. The demons are frightening.
They are tall black person-shaped shadows, moving slightly too slow and fluidly to be a normal person walking, and when they stand still they are utterly horrifying. They just stand too still, and they watch me! I have never seen their faces and never want to.
I believe these are all my hallucinations, but I don’t think the ghosts are- and that’s because other people have been with me when I’ve seen them and experienced the same thing as I have. The people I’ve been with are actually mentally stable and not like me, rest assured!
So, anyway, gods I’m off topic… before I go back to what I was saying, I don’t know at all whether this is relevant, but I firmly believe in a pantheon of gods that mess you about, support you, cheat you, favour you or love you. They like to claim humans for themselves. There are gods of order and gods of chaos, but good and evil/benign and mischievous gods can belong to both categories. Yes, I did read that in a story when I was much younger, but the idea made such sense to me that I have kept the ideology. Anyway…
My acting weird? I literally have been called weird all my life. Mum has unfortunately not been around me from being 16-21/22 very much, due to me being away, so she hasn’t seen me doing things like trying to fly by jumping off the highest step I could, believing I would glide. She hasn’t seen me stay awake for three nights on a trot and having to be soothed to sleep by a best friend with a bottle of vodka. I was cut off by my abusive ex at this time, so even if I’d been round the corner from her physically, she wouldn’t have seen me, because he would have been there. Now we are properly reunited, and I have my fantastic family back in my life, she will begin to see that this is how I am and have always been. She is already understanding she can push me on my good days and on my bad ones she is just supportive and loving and caring. I am lucky.
The minute I told her about my voices, she told me to ring the psychologist and ask where my referral was. I did so with alacrity.
The receptionist was very friendly, and I checked where my referral was… but then the worry about the voices came spilling out, and she got the psychologist on duty to ring me back.
I brain-vomited all my fears and confusions and worries about the voices, my inability to trust my own thoughts or believe that I was violated by my ex, because he put so many lies into my head that I don’t know what to believe. (I think that because there are events that I was part of that I can’t remember during this period of time – for example, I wrote a horrible letter to my mum influenced by my ex – and that makes me think if I forgot something so small, I could easily block out something big, too.) The psychologist agreed with me, and was concerned that I was, by my own admission, experiencing psychotic symptoms, and she calmed me right down and got me talking about my holiday before I hung up. She also said she was writing an email about what I had told her, and she was going to try and speed the process up.
I hope I get a call on Thursday, because, like I said to both my mum and the psychologist, I am so so frightened that I will end up agreeing with the dark passenger and making another attempt on my life.