The Wash and Fade

I’ve been feeling very, very blah this week.

My Invega injection makes me so tired now that I don’t know what to do.

I was resting most of this week because i couldn’t do anything else.

And that feeling gets old.

Throughout it all I’ve still been having breakthrough symptoms. 

The hallucinations posing as my neighbors have been out.

And last night I could hear them while inside.

And that hasn’t happened in months.

My apartment is usually a safe space.

But sometimes it’s not.

And I have nowhere else to go to be safe by myself.

I’ve just felt like laying down all week.

Everyday I can barely hold myself up.

I’ve been napping.

I have to.

I can’t focus on anything when I’m like this.

I feel like my sense of self gets lost in the medication at times.

Time is basically standing still.

Moving at a snail’s pace.

The days are just blending together.

It’s frustrating.

I feel like there’s no inbetween.

There’s no contentment in my life.

I’m always waiting for the shit to hit the fan.

Or the other shoe to drop.

Because it will.

And it does.

I didn’t even really know what to write about this week because of my very blah mood.

And the voices.

I feel like no one cares.

I barely care.

I don’t care today.

And it’s making it hard to write.

I know I need to power through.

But some days are just bad.

And before I realize it, it turns into a week.

Then a few weeks.

A month.

A year.

I’ve been sitting in my apartment for a year and I still feel drained.

I’m fucking exhausted.

And I can’t seem to snap out of it longer than a day or two.

It’s getting old.

I still hearing the hallucinations through the medication.

They were bad yesterday.

It gives me shivers.

They’re just terrible.

Impossible to shake because they don’t stop.

They keep going.

And going.

And going.

And going.

They don’t care what I’m trying to do.

They don’t care about my mood – they’ll ruin it or make it worse.

I can’t tune it out.

It’s impossible to ignore them.

They just get louder when I do.

“Can she hear me?”

“She can hear.”

“She hears you.”

“She’s listening.”

“Is she listening?”

“They can hear you.”

Just stop.

It layers in with “What is she doing?”

“What is she watching?”

“Does she hear me?”

“She can hear.”

“She hears me.”

“She’s looking.”

“Does she see us?”

“She can’t see.”

“She can’t see me.”

“I can hear her.”

“She hears me.”

“They’re listening.”

Over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over again.

Slightly different word use every so often.

But that’s the general idea.

Nonstop.

It may quiet down for an hour or two.

Then I see a shadowy figure out the window.

Or see some sort of hovering, fuzzy ball of dark lint, glide across the entire living room floor.

And it starts back up.

Same thing.

Day in.

Day out.

I think what happens is that I’m still getting thrown into episodes.

Like, one is trying to take over now.

This week.

Despite the medications.

Despite my therapy and intense amounts of self work.

My ability to stop any of the hallucinations is non-existent.

It’s not an option.

I have to let it wash and fade.

There’s no other choice.

There’s nothing else I can do.

I haven’t been going outside much this week.

The voices get worse outside.

I’m not in my controlled environment then.

Last night was the first night in months that the hallucinations seeped into my bubble of an apartment.

That’s why I think this is more episodic than anything.

They’re coming on strong and I just got my injection.

I keep thinking my neighbors are stalking me and listening to everything I do or say and watching through the blinds even when they’re shut.

It’s maddening.

The hallucinations talk about me every time I let the dog out.

Or smoke a cigarette.

I need to shower, but I just don’t have the energy.

They can get worse in the bathroom too, the voices.

They’re impossible to escape.

– Keren