Entry 7

So today Ms. Millman encouraged me to stray from my prompt list and instead asked me to write about my hallucinations and how they have affected my life over time. You know, I remember this blog starting out on the dream that "It can be about whatever you want it to be about." I guess The Lake and Pussyfoot were interesting and all, but it's high time we return to talking about my own insanity.

Whine, whine, whine. Moan, moan, moan. Make life hard for your therapist.

So let's start from the beginning. When I was about four or five years old, I started getting really jumpy. I didn't like going outside, I would hide under chairs and tables and cry for no obvious reason, and at night I would always throw these huge fits about having to sleep alone in my room. I used to tell Peg I was afraid monsters were going to get me, and while that worried her, it's not really unusual for a child at that age. However, by the time I was about six, it was apparent that there was something a lot worse going on. I would be sitting at the kitchen table or something, and then just suddenly begin screaming bloody murder. I'd lose it if Peg ever drew the curtains in my bedroom or popped a window open in the apartment, and if we ever went out I was always checking to see if we were being followed.




Peg took me to see a Doctor, and after a couple of visits he diagnosed me with Paranoid Schizophrenia, and I've been taking medication for it ever since.

As far as schizophrenics go, I'm considered pretty high functioning. I'm not the best at social cues, but it's nothing manic, and I haven't had an actual episode in years. It's been nothing but a bunch of random hallucinations every now and again. It's kind of hard to describe them, but imagine a really dark figure in the corner of your vision and knowing that it's after you. That's about how it feels when it happens. Sometimes I look out the window and I'll see someone standing there, looking in at me. It's always the same person too. It looks your average person, but he never has a face. It's like my mind can't put that part in.

I know he isn't there, but it freaks me out none the less. It's all apart of the sickness, you never feel quite safe or at ease. You're always worrying about that thing in the corner of your vision. Guess

Like I said though, you learn to live with it. And hey, I have been making my way down recovery road you know. It's better now than it's ever been. Hopefully it'll leave me alone for a while so I can go back to college. That would be wonderful.

Alrighty then, I'll leave it at that. Next time I am for sure continuing on with these prompts.

Until that time I suppose. Good night.