I wrote my last post about eight hours ago. Voices were ripping and tearing their way through my consciousness.
When I'm hearing voices, I mean it sounds so unthreatening, but it's absolute hell. It really is like starring in my very own thriller
Every action and choice is life or death. There's no escape, no comfort. It's pure torment and it's always so real.
I tell myself its illogical and unlikely that these voices are legit but I still can't help believing them because it is so hard to disbelieve your senses.
It's a lot like a conspiracy theory. I'm aware it sounds crazy and is most likely nonsense but then again, it could be true.
No matter how certain I am that I wouldn't be able to hear what I think I'm hearing, I spend so long fighting it it wears me right down and I begin to believe.
It's like the probability of smelly socks being in a cupboard of one of the booths in the beauty department at Boots. It's really unlikely they're there but you can still smell them!
Another thing that happens during my crazy is unbelievable reason. I rationalise my crazy which is why so many people (professionals/peers) think I'm actually sane because IT COULD be rational.
That's the hardest part for me. The lack of presentation my mental illness has on my external presentation.
I try to avoid thinking about it all because it makes my heart so heavy but right this second there are no voices.
It's 2am and I've been awake about an hour and intend to continue being awake a while longer because right now I'm voice free and that's the best way for me to be! (I meant to ryhme!)
I wish you good mental health and encourage you to #Fight4Life