The radio noises don’t bother me too much, especially the music I hear.

It doesn’t frighten me like the voices do.

The murmurs that come along with the radio noises are not fun, and it makes me feel overstimulated with the murmurs added onto the static noises or faint music (or both simultaneously) that I hear.

I did have a lot of hearing someone talking when no one is around this week, very sporadically.

Mainly the voices imitating the nearby neighbors when they’re not even home, again.

For the billionth time.

And it really triggers me.

It spikes everything when the voices come on strong all of the sudden.

I feel like I’m in a fight, flight, or freeze shituation.

My paranoia and anxiety mainly are the two big feelings and issues when my hallucinated voices amp up.

They flip everything upside down and makes things, life, scary.

I know that my mental illness used to make me seem self centered and uninterested.

Vacant and subject changer.

The interrupter.

In reality, I am very interested and I am thinking of others more than they think I am – and how my actions affect others.

I wasn’t always able to do that, to think outside of myself.

I notice now why some folks have gotten upset with me in the past.

Certain word usage and ignoring their news or needs.

I never meant to.

I always thought I was a good friend when I was really just holding folks hostage with my words and actions.

I never could separate myself from what I was saying.

Like, what I would say was only partially of what was needed to fill in the story holes.

And then wonder why no one is hearing me.

And then bombarding a now ex bestie with my dread and doom and wondering why she left.

Then the whole conversation hits the fan because of (drumroll please) miscommunication on my end.

Not seeing the big picture, unable to think past today, unphased by death.

And then I’m ignoring their needs somehow that was never apparent to me until someone dropped me as a friend for not listening.

And not listening has been an ongoing issue with me.

Has been since elementary school.

I don’t know if I don’t understand the situation, or if I’m not comprehending the context or what, but my listening skills are iffy every time.

People unfriend me all the time because of that and other issues I’m sure.

And it’s okay.

I get it.

I’m a bitch sometimes and I don’t even notice that the other person is hurt at times which makes that same people more hurt and angrier.

I don’t pay attention to things, to others or details.

And that’s a tough thing to not be able to pick up on.

I still don’t understand what I did to most people who have gotten out of a friendship with me.

No fucking clue.

I miss people now that I’m more lucid.

I hope I’m different now but I never know what to change about myself to make it better because I don’t and never really know what “it” is.

It’s a tough road because I am oblivious to a lot when it comes to interacting with people and sometimes, I guess, it makes me come off as an asshole.

It sucks though because I don’t mean to be rude – that’s not my intention ever really.

I feel like I’ve been misunderstood my entire life in that aspect.

It’s easy for me to make friends, but hard to keep them or get really close.

But I don’t know when I’m stepping over boundaries and would prefer a conversation rather than no more contact ever, ya know?

And maybe it’s not that easy for people though? 

Or maybe it’s not considered okay to have that awkward conversation of a wanted behavior change.

Maybe it’s too much work.

Maybe I’m too much.

I’ve gotten that through life – that I’m “too much” and shit.

That I’m too intense.

Well, I know now that I was in survival mode that whole time.

I wasn’t able to make sense of things.

I misinterpreted a lot too and didn’t even know I was doing it.

I thought I kept up and was constructive in conversation.

Come to find out that I’m kinda a shitty person and I didn’t know it.

And I know I’m not shitty now.

But most of my life I was shitty because I wasn’t on the right medication.

If I would have been given antipsychotics earlier in life, I think, that life would’ve been quite a bit easier for me.

It makes me angry at times.

If only the doctor had done it.

If only I would’ve tried to adhere to something and see myself and what I am going through earlier in life.

But they didn’t 

And I didn’t know.

So it goes.

– Keren