Internally

I got in some good decompression last week.

I can’t help but notice.

That I’ve had a few days without symptoms now.

It’s refreshing to not hear the voices constantly.

Even though I don’t expect it to last long.

Ever.

A few days here or there is usually all I get.

But I realized today that I get my injection in a week.

And I haven’t been anxiously awaiting it this month.

Counting down the days.

I haven’t been begging the clinic to get me in early because of heavy symptoms.

It actually almost snuck up on me.

I haven’t been having the extreme paranoia like I usually do the week before an injection.

It’s been there.

But hasn’t been taking over.

It’s not holding me hostage this week.

I’ve been able to see my neighbors that the voices mimic walk by.

And not be pummeled into anxieties.

They haven’t been throwing me into delusions that my neighbors really are stalking me.

Or out to get me.

They were loud when they showed up though.

Dang were the voices loud.

The type of loud that makes my skull vibrate.

And physically, uncontrollably shake.

It felt like they were right next to me.

Almost yelling.

Impossible to ignore.

Yet ridiculous to listen to.

Since then it’s been awfully quiet.

I’ve heard the radio noise off and on. 

But it’s been a solid three days since really hearing much of my hallucinations.

I find it almost impossible to describe verbally.

I know I’ve talked about that before.

But my attempts to describe what I hear fall flat in person.

I can write about it much easier.

Much more cohesively.

When I talk about it.

I think I become more cautious because they can hear me talking.

And thinking holds different weight.

Like, when I write.

It’s not out loud.

It’s not spontaneous.

When the voices start to surface.

Internally, I constrict every muscle in my body.

Simultaneously.

And hold it there.

Tensely.

If the voices surface again.

Or don’t stop chattering.

I then lose control of my attention.

I become obsessive with the voices.

Who is that?

What was that?

What did they say?

Are they talking about me?

I hear my name off and on as I ask myself those questions.

I hear “her”.

And “she” in every sentence.

I jump into a world of my own.

I don’t think this part is easily seen by outside eyes.

It’s a very internal feeling.

And I’m an expert at masking

(Which is an entirely different entry.)

I leave very few clues that I’m completely panicking.

And obsessing over the voices.

I must say my biggest cover.

Is acting like nothing alarming is happening.

When internally I’m flailing about.

Screaming at the top of my lungs.

Begging for this to stop.

Externally I smile.

And listen to whatever’s being discussed with deaf ears.

I just nod and smile politely.

Saying, mumbling rather, affirming things.

Like “absolutely”.

“Totally”.

Etc…

Internally I’ve become a mess.

I over react and scream.

In my head.

The world in my head has always been so vast.

So many people.

Entities.

So many hallucinations taking up space.

They’ve left an abandoned city in my head.

Everything that I know is slowly crumbling into new territory.

And it’s frightening to think of what’s next.

Because until now.

Next has always been shittier.

It has always been my mental illness getting worse.

Exponentially.

Whatever destructive stage it’s at.

It will consume me.

And today is just different.

The past few days have just been different.

But I still wait while biting my tongue.

Wondering if the shit is going to hit the fan.

Again.

Like it always does.

It’s wonderful not having many symptoms.

But I still can’t help but be on somewhat edge.

Just due to so many years of the same thing.

Maybe.

In the spirit of me doing something different.

My life will somehow be different.

Different forks in the road.

Ones that never would’ve surfaced by doing the same shit thing time.

And time again.

I’m finding this life to be a working journey.

Something I need to be conscious of.

Aware of the silence.

And noises that cloud my thinking.

Because being aware is half the battle.

Without it I’m right back where I started.

– Keren

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