"What's it like, hearing voices?"

I hear voices. I'm pretty open about it, and people sometimes ask what it's like.
Actually, most seem scared to ask for fear of triggering something, but I'm not easily triggered that way. But some people do ask, and I usually just say "it's scary" or "it's rough".
I want to give a more in-depth explanation, so I figured I'd do it here. It's about time I wrote a blogpost anyways.
By the way, did you know there are people who only hear positive voices? Or that a lot of people who hear voices don't have any diagnoses?

Anyways, imagine you have four people in your life. Four people who pop up at random times, two of which follows you around wherever you go. They whisper in your ears, sometimes they yell if you ignore them, and they have opinions about EVERYTHING. Every choice you have to make, every interaction with other people, every thought you have. Everything.
That's what it's like.

I have four voices, two of which I hear daily. There's a second group of voices called "The Audience", but they only appear when I'm not doing well mentally.
(I know the voices are figments of my imagination, but to me, they still seem like individuals.)

The two main voices are called Mia and Azelia.
Mia seems evil, and is pretty harsh on me. She tries to correct most of the things I do, and influence me to do things that don't seem good for me. She has opinions on everything, most of which are negative, and she judges everyone. Especially me.
When I feel cornered or aggravated, she pops out and takes control. Bad things usually follow, but at least she helps me get some opinions out I wouldn't otherwise dare to express.

Azelia is brave and strong, yet soft, and emotional. She gives me assurance that it's okay to have negative emotions like "I'm scared" or "I'm sad", and she steps up for me when Mia has been too harsh.

Through therapy, I've learnt that Mia is not all evil like I thought. It seems she has been trying to strengthen me to take what ever negative things people might fling at me.
I've also learnt she's a representation of my insecurities. "People don't like you", "You're weak" and "do bad things to yourself and others" are things she often says. The first two are symptoms that I'm scared others will say those things to me, and the last is usually a sign I'm in a situation I want out of.

I've also learnt Azelia is a representation of the emotional support I found missing when I was a teen. I was twelve when she appeared, and I was going through a very hard time back then.
Her main goal seems to be assuring and guiding me through negative emotions. She often tells me to calm down and take a breath, while at the same time acknowledging that I do have negative emotions.


I used to become scared when Mia and The Audience, the latter being a chorus of people screaming negative commands at me, were getting loud. Mia is always there, but usually she's just background noise. Easily ignorable.
On days where my defenses are lowered, like if I'm stressed out or missing sleep, she gets louder, and her commands get darker, until all I can focus on is trying not to obey. I've been told I've been near impossible for people to contact or talk to during those times because I've been withdrawn into my own little world.
It's pretty hard to not do things when someone is screaming in your face that you have to do it, getting louder until you either comply or take medicines to make them go away (or at least be bearable.)

People often give the well-meaning advice of "don't listen to the voices". It's good advice, but it's not that simple. They're there all day every day, and they get louder if I ignore them instead of acknowledging them. Acknowledging them isn't the same as obeying them, though.
I have in the past made the mistake of thinking they would leave me alone if I did just what they told me to. Boy, was I wrong. One thing leads to another, and before you know it, you've been throwing up your food for a week because they screamed at you until you did.

I could go on and on about them, but to sum it up, hearing voices is, to me, scary and confusing, sometimes consuming, and sometimes even comforting.
Never be afraid to ask about them, I'll answer to my best ability. If you ask something I can't or won't answer, I'll let you know. But it haven't happened yet.

Misunderstanding mental illnesses

There are things I've heard throughout my life when trying to be open about my struggles. Now, let me tell you why those things are bullshit.

1 "Most people have something they struggle with"
True, most people do have something they're struggling with, but telling it to someone who's trying to tell you that their struggle in particular feels worse than normal, belittles their struggles and makes them feel like you don't take it seriously.

2 "I know someone with the same illness as you, so I know all about how it works"
That too is something I've heard quite a lot in the recent years. Instead of asking how the mentioned illness works for the individual, people draw on their past experiences. Mental illness comes in a very broad spectrum of varieties, and they work differently for everyone. You can pair up two people with the exact same diagnoses, and they will be affected by those diagnoses in completely different ways.

Don't ever think that because you know someone who has a certain mental illness, you are suddenly an expert. Always ask the person in question how it affects them, and if there's anything you should be aware of.

3 "Life is hard for everyone"
Sure, life is hard for everyone, but is it so hard to imagine that it might be a little harder for some than others at times? And yes, there are children starving and people in wars, and life is hard for them too. But again, reminding someone who's trying to be open about how life sucks for them, that their struggles aren't so bad, really isn't helping much, and might keep them from trying to open up again in the future.

4 "Have you tried going outside more?"
Ah yes, the dreaded "have you tried..." Sure, when you are in a state of mind where simply dragging yourself out of bed is an impossible task, not mention things like basic hygiene and eating, what you need is a reminder of all the things you should do to get better, because it's your own fault you're not doing better than you are... Or not!


Most, maybe not all, but I do believe that most people with mental illnesses really are trying. I know it might not show, and it might seem like some of us are doing little to nothing, but believe me, if we stopped trying, you'd notice it very quickly.


The reason I'm writing this is because I have schizophrenia. It's no secret, I'm open about it, although I sometimes wait to tell someone until it becomes releveant.
What often seems to happen to me, though, is that while people are quick to say "hey isn't it that thing where people hear voices and get paranoia?" they forget about the other things.
Not all schizophrenics see pink bunnies jumping on the ceiling, or have voices telling them to stab family members in their sleep.

I don't hallucinate, I don't see things that aren't there, I don't get paranoid thoughts, and I don't think I'm the 3rd reincarnation of the king of Jupiter. Those are calles positive symptoms, by the way.
I do have negative symtpoms, meanig they steal things from my personality. They cause things like lack of initiative, lack of ability to think fast, fatigue, apathy, confusion, and inability to multitask or focus for long.

Negative symptoms are, in my experience, almost more difficult to deal with when it comes to other people. When you tell them about things that aren't part of the "norm", like, seeing giant spiders everywhere or hearing voices, they understand that it's part of the illness and not your fault (unless you are, for some reason, not taking your meds. In that case, they're not always as forgiving)

But, if you tell them that "Hey, my brain doesn't work very fast anymore and I get easily confused/insecure/unfocused", they'll tell you to try harder or to train it somehow.
Some people will see it as an annoyance, some even think you're playing dumb. Some will just act like you're not trying at all, despite me telling them you're doing your best.

It hurts when people act like this, and it has cost me quite a few friendships over the years.
I used to act like that too, back when I was young and thought I knew everything. But, after realising I myself was sick, and I started to get help, I managed to turn that train of thought around.

Most people with mental illnesses don't grow out of their illness, they simply learn how to hide the symptoms. We shouldn't have to, but still today, in 2017, it sometimes feels like there is no room to be different, unless you're the right kind of different. The "as seen on TV" kind of different.

So please, to anyone who reads this; Please please PLEASE, be kind to those around you who struggle. Ask questions instead of making conclusions. Allow them to be open to you rather than shutting them down. And please, never expect someone to function "normally" based on your perceptions of normal.

Psych ward

People always seem to want to share on Facebook when they're sick - it can be anything from a cold, to having to be in a hospital.

I'm in the hospital, but I didn't, until now, feel comfortable sharing it with the world. Why? Because I'm not here for a broken leg, a bursting appendix, nor any other physical injuries. I'm here because my brain isn't working right.
You might have guessed it from the title, but I'm going to say it anyways: I'm in the psychiatric ward.
I've been here for almost a week now, and I'm finally starting to feel better.

Admitting to a mental illness still feels stigmatized, if not taboo.
If your body isn't doing what it's supposed to, or you've somehow gotten hurt, it's alright. It wasn't your fault.
Even though I have received an almost overwhelming amount of support from those I've told, I still feel a bit scared admitting the fact that my brain is/was working against me.
Surely, I must have been taking drugs, or not taken my meds, or perhaps just not thought enough positive thoughts, right?
Wrong.
And surely, I must have gone completely coo-coo and/or tried to kill myself, right?
Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Though there are things you can do to improve and keep your mental health, lots of people just can't help it.
I don't excactly know how it works, but I remember hearing several places that many mental illnesses stem from having the wrong ratio of various chemicals in your brain.
There are people of all shapes and sizes here, and I have not yet seen someone as crazy as they are in the movies. No one who thinks they're Napoleon, no one who shouts at someone who isn't there. The people here are ordinary people whose brains simply won't co-operate.

One thing is other people's bias, another is my own. I don't know what set it off, but I feel so afraid of admitting that I can't always control my brain, because of not wanting to seem weak or attention-seeking, that it took me almost two weeks to seek help.
Two weeks of knowing something was horribly wrong, but being too scared to do anything about it.
That's not how it's supposed to be.

Mental illness isn't like having a cold, (which I coincidentally also have at the moment) where you just have to rest for a few days. You have to do everything in your power to keep your sanity, even if it means having yourself admitted like I did, and taking medicines that make you tired.

I am so glad my family and friends have been so supportive about all this. Even in here, I meet people whose families are mad at them for being in the psych ward. People whose families take it personal or don't understand why they have to "act that way".

It takes a lot for a person to admit to something being wrong with them, this also applies to physical ailments.
I hope we one day have a world where no one was raised to "tough it out" no matter the ailment.
I'm very glad I was taught it's okay to seek help where help is needed.

"I don't know"

I used to answer almost every question with "I don't know".
People mistook it for ambivalence, carelessness, or the lack of intelligence. None of those things are true.
Instead, it came from a lack of belief. Just a few years ago, I was so lost and everything felt so hopeless, that I didn't dare to believe in or dream about the future.

"What education do you want?" "I don't know". In this sense, "I don't know" meant "I've tried so many times and failed, that I feel like I'll never be able to accomplish it anyways, so I don't want to get my hopes up.", but "I don't know" was the easier answer.

People also kept telling me that I deserved to be happy and live a happy life with a nice job and a nice partner, in a nice apartment. Nice was more that I dared to hope for, even a year ago. How could I get a nice job when I could barely attend school without it going wrong?  How could I get a nice partner when I continuously kept failing at relationships and ending up with shitty or unfulfilling partners? How could I get a nice apartment when I had never been able to keep one up?


In social psychiatry, we're often told that what sparks the recovery can come from the strangest of places. Even if you accept all the help you're offered, it can take years until something triggers something in you that makes it go so much faster. And that's what happened to me. I can't put a finger on it, but something in me recently lit a though-to-be-long-lost fire, and I'm finally daring to hope and/or believe in a good future for myself.

I've begun painting again, something I lost the inspiration to do when I was at my lowest, I'm moving out soon, and into my very own place. And most importantly, I have concrete thoughts about the future. Realistic expectations.
My expectations felt realistic when I was in my "I don't know" phase as well, in the sense that it seemed realistic that I would never have a good future, but now I see that they were perhaps the most unrealistic.
It's not realistic that I'll end up living on the street, unloved and alone. And that is because I'm fighting. I'm trying to improve myself, I reach my hand out, and take the hands I'm offered.
They always say that part of the path to recovering from a problem is admitting there is a problem you need help with. I say it's just as important to allow yourself to accept that help, but you can't do that until you dare hope that things will be better than what they are.

Hope is important. Hope can sometimes be what drives us.

The fact that I'm daring to have hopes for the future shows, to me, that my life has improved, and that I'm seeing that improvement. I'm daring to hope it will continue.

Bravery

People talk about bravery as if it's easy to gain. Movies portray it as something you achieve when it matters the most.
The reality, however, seems to be that it has to be learned, which is harder for some people than others.

What excactly is bravery? What does it mean, how do you define it?

Some people seem to think that daring to do potentially reckless, stupid and/or dangerous things is brave. Others define it as standing up for what you believe in, while some see it as being good/calm under pressure and in dangerous situations.
I see bravery as confidence.

Man, I wish I was brave.
I want to be confident in my actions, abilities and beliefs, and I want to feel safe telling others about it.
But, I'm not.
I used to be, I think. But somewhere along the way, I lost that nearly blind faith in myself I so admire in others, and I want it back.
Some degree of doubt is healthy, but does too much doubt a coward make?

And is it necessary to be brave all the time, or is it healthy to hold back and think twice once in a while?

I wish I was so brave that I'd shout things from the rooftops. Not that I think it'd do any good, but isn't it a metaphor for being so proud of who you are that you don't care who knows?

I guess in order to get there, I first need to find out who I am, and accept it.
But what if I can't accept what I find out? Does that mean I'm not brave?
Does it mean I'm a hipocrite, since I'm so openly telling people to let others be who they are?

These questions, as well as how I can regain confidence and faith in myself, are what keeps me up at night.

And finally, how come the inspiration to write always seems to come to me when I'm tired and should be asleep?

"Smile at the hidden camera"

I try to keep at positive outlook on things most of the time, but lately, it's been rough. The past week has been a string of failures and bad news, and the feeling of inadequacy is strong.
I'm somehow halfway expecting some idiot to jump out from behind a bush and yell "surprise! You've been pranked! Smile at the hidden cameras there, there, and there!", that it's all just a cruel joke taken way too far.

I won't go into detail about what the things are, but I will say this: I am painfully aware of my shortcomings at the moment. I've cried a lot recently, and I can't sit still, nor keep eyecontact.

As I said, I try to keep a positive attitude. And although time moves very slowly at the moment, I try to take it one step at a time.
One, or even more than a few minor setbacks should'nt get in the way of the overall process of improvement I've been told I'm in.

The hardest parts of getting better, for me, has been accepting that sometimes, I don't feel so good, and also being able to talk about it. Being honest with people about how I'm doing, and putting words to my thoughts.
Accepting you don't feel great also means allowing yourself to feel negative emotions like pain and sadness, and for me, that also means learning how to deal with those emotions in a healthy way.

When all else fails, when I'm alone with my thoughts, I've got stuffed animals to hug. And the internet.

The buddhists have a saying: 'This shall pass'.
Nothing is permanent. Even though emotions like sadness, anger, anxiety, and heartbreak, sometimes feel like they'll go on forever, they won't. And that's important to remember.

I'm not trying to convey some profound wisdom by writing all this, I just wanted to share some thoughts of mine, get them out of my system.
Because right now, I'm alone with my thoughts, and it's hard to sleep even though I'm exhausted and need to get up early tomorrow.

But don't worry about me. I've got supportive people around me, in my life, and I know there's light at the end of each tunnel. Even though that light is sometimes hard to see, I just gotta keep on going, one step at a time.

Winter blues

Seasonal Affective Disorder, or as it is appropriately shortened down to, SAD, is a thing that affects me every year.  I prefer to refer to it as 'winter blues', as that's what it means to me.

In other words, during wintertime, I feel "blue".  I do my best to counteract it, and I'm going to the doctor soon to have my vitamin D levels checked out. I'm also listening to music constantly, and I do my best to be surrounded by people so I can't sit alone and rot in my own thoughts.

I figured I'd nip some of the effects of the winter blues in the bud by being honest about it this year.

This is what happens to me, this is how I react, this is why I do what I do best: avoiding human contact.

SAD makes me feel, well, sad. Sometimes for no reason at all. I can just wake up in the morning and go through an entire day having to constantly struggle not to break out in tears.

I start to sleep more, and for longer periods of time. I start feeling more and more inadequate, irritable, irritating and useless, and I start to withdraw more and more. As I begin to question myself and withdraw, it starts spiralling downwards, as the withdrawing leads to feelings of defeat and thoughts like "why can't I just be happy and social?" or "why can't I just get out of bed and go to work?" or "why can't I just..."

You get the point.

It affects my sleep pattern too, in the way that it makes it harder for me to get to sleep, stay asleep, and get out of sleep.

It starts at night. As soon as I'm alone because everyone else has gone to bed, and I've realised I might need to sleep too. Why do I wait until everyone else has gone to bed? Because I'm afraid to try to sleep. Afraid I'll fail. Afraid of the hours of thinking and tossing and turning that are ahead of me before I finally get some rest.

When I lie down in bed, all the thoughts I've been suppressing come rushing in over me like a flood. 

Sometimes, it's just random dark thoughts, sometimes, it's scenarios that haven't happend yet, and sometimes, I can lie awake for hours and think of all the times I've failed at something.

(If you want to know what it's like not to be able to sleep while in that state of mind, here's a song that describes it perfectly. )

Anyhow, now' we're getting to what I really wanted to talk about: what it makes me do.

The SAD makes me avoid human contact. The depression makes me want to not be alone, but as soon as I'm with people, I feel drained and overwhelmed, and all I can focus on is how insecure I feel, and how many mistakes I might be making, which in turn, doesn't help with the depression very well.

Therefore, more often than not, I avoid talking to people.

I read messages, but I don't reply, and when I do, I'm short and concise, or I pretend to be happy and use a lot of happy emoticons/smileys. Don't get me wrong, I'm not sad ALL THE TIME, and I am often genuinely happy, but these Winter Blues just make it harder for me to stay that way for very long at a time.

So anyways, in advance: I'm sorry if I bury myself under the blankets. I'm sorry if I go for long periods of time without contacting you or replying to messages. I'm not mad at you, I'm just sad.

I don't want to be left alone, and I appreciate people reaching out. I'm just not very good at doing it myself when I get like this.

And I'm sorry if my statuses on facebook are complaining or angry, I'm just venting my growing frustrations with the world so they won't consume me.

Please don't hate me. Please don't stop being my friends. Please don't think for a second that it's personal or that I dislike any of you. 

And please don't worry. I'm going to be fine. It's only for a few months each year, and since I know it's only temporary, I refuse to let it break me.