I went out and asked them if they had just been talking about me.

Talking shit, technically.

I just blurted it out when I looked up at the third floor balcony.

They were both out there.

“Were you guys just talking shit about me?”

“No.”

“No.”

They layered over each other.

“We just stepped outside.”

(Which is a lie, they were definitely outside when I was smoking just moments before.)

“I’m hanging my flags up.” She said.

“Why?” He said.

“Well I just heard people talking shit about me. I dunno, I have schizophrenia, so I hear people talking shit about me all the time but I figured I’d ask you if y’all were talking shit about me.”

“No.”

“No.”

They each replied.

“We wouldn’t do that.” She said.

*dry chuckle by her*

“No, we wouldn’t do that.” She said.

“Okay. Okay.” I said

“We wouldn’t do that to you.” She stated.

I said “Okay.” and came back inside.

I don’t give a fuck if they know anymore.

Know that I have hallucinations.

I can’t stand the fucking voices.

Real or hallucination, I honestly don’t know.

I can’t stand being made fun of.

The awful fucking feeling of being bullied.

But was it them?

They were outside.

I wouldn’t put it past them to lie to me.

Because she just did.

But why would they?

What’s the fucking point?

What if I was hearing them talking, but my brain was twisting their words into made up, mocking sentences geared all towards me?

That’s quite literally happened hundreds of times before.

People demanding that they never said that.

That’s not what they meant.

Well, now they know what I deal with and will maybe be a bit more understanding.

And stop talking about me if they were.

Though I doubt it.

All I want to do right now is smoke a cigarette.

But I don’t want to go outside. 

At all.

So I’ll just sit here and fill my apartment with vapor.

Before I started writing this I came back inside and laid on my bed.

I was shaking and my breathing was shallow.

I can feel the paranoia and anxiety creeping up, making my face hot.

Bruce jumped up the second I laid down and put himself between me and my phone that I was gripping.

He laid there panting, trying to get me to calm down and breathe.

And I did.

And he slowly retreated. 

Slowly moved away because he was hot more than anything.

Being a husky mutt and an emotional support doggo is hard work.

Now he’s right next to me, sleeping.

I can’t believe I did that.

I mean, I’m glad I did. 

It had to be done.

I had to do it.

I really don’t give a fuck.

They are the ones who started this whole thing with blaming me for something I didn’t do last December.

I want to fucking end it.

And I feel like I did.

I took control of the shituation and called them out.

If they admit it or not is between them and themselves.

I assume that they’re lying because they obviously have talked about me to accuse me in the past.

I turned on Disney+ with all of this.

I can’t function.

I need something nice to watch.

Something where I don’t really need to be present.

I don’t know where that courage came from to ask them that.

To have that conversation.

Maybe I looked “crazy”.

But I honestly don’t care at all.

I had to do it.

It was really starting to set me spinning.

Spiraling.

Fuck.

I hope my little outburst does good.

I did just now go back outside to smoke, an hour and a half after I blurted everything out, and everything was pretty tame.

Fairly quiet.

My thoughts recently have been on my Grandmother who just passed, and I’m still in the grieving stage.

I think hearing them talk about me was too much on top of everything else.

I for sure kinda snapped.

– Keren