I must be crazy. It’s my only conclusion. I’m so disconnected to everyone. I feel isolated in this. I don’t even truly KNOW what’s wrong. It just is. In my head. As I’m thinking in my head. Well, there’s a few voices, but wait! They’re all me. I’m pretty sure. It’s just. Well they all say different things based on one situation. I already sound like a nut job to myself. I can’t believe I’m even writing this. I should be locked up or Something. I don’t know. All I know is as I get older, they too get wiser. The good voices are cool, they suggest helpful things, encouragement etc, the bad ones…I really just ignore, they’re not helpful unless I’m in a fight or something. The main thinking voice- I guess, mine, is the loudest. I can differentiate it because that’s the me- who decides what to do (or who to listen to) It’s always been pretty hard deal with. I’ve told nobody. I trust nobody. On the outside, I am Good! I’m genuinely friendly & peaceful. I cheer on underdogs. I love a noble person. I’m a lone wolf but never bother people. I just hear voices. But now I’m a lil. Well actually I’m terrified of losing it. My grip on the voices. They’re going silent. Slowly, it sounds like it’s being muffled. Like they’re far away. I should want to lose them. But I don’t. They’ve always been there for me. Holding me together. I’ve been through some shit. As everyone has. But I’ve always been surrounded in a big family, whom I love. But cannot talk to. I’ve lost count of the memories we share. Although still, I’ve always felt kinda alone. My mother – God Bless, had six kids. I’m number 4. But the first three are all 4+yrs older than me. So going to school I had no big brother or sister like I should have. I was the oldest of the younger siblings. Great & amazing. My father has been here & there in memories. Fond ones like, taking us for walks & cooking & presents. And not so fond like mum throwing the old cast iron pan at him, dads dark depression/ hangover days & police visits. UHG. I will forever carry the mental scars of seeing my parents mid-fuck. 🤢 so there’s enough childhood trauma to explain the voices presence(s) . I know why the voices are fading. It’s the marijuana. (Just to be clear,
when I smoking can sleep & only hear the one voice in my head) I smoke because my dreams are too vivid. Half the time I’m aware I’m dreaming. & the voices must have a say in mt subconscious dream work too because the dreams are fuckin crazy. All emotions are felt throughout the dream. It’s almost like another life. I always woke up more tired. And bothered. I know I sound even more crazy. Especially after this bomb I’ll drop on you. I have premonitions. I dream of certain situations. Feelings, sounds, imagery & just a sense of position & touch. I’ve had many. I didn’t even realize until they became so frequent that they actually disrupted my life. I’ll have dreams & later, maybe a few months or a few days, but always it came. I could tell normal dreams from the vision because in the vision I feel the emotion. When they happened in real life, things had always just happened eg somebody’s hurt, somebody won something etc. I know there’s something up. I… Don’t know if it’s a blessing or curse. Any of me. I feel too much. There’s too many emotions flooding me lately. Theres a dull weight on my head when I’m high & the voices shut up. My head is too heavy lately. It’s crazy. I’m crazy. I’m alone & nobody will ever know. Because I must carry on. I must keep up the facade for not only myself but my son. He’s the only reason I’m truly still fighting & alive. I’ll kill for him without hesitation. My son is 8months now & while sober the voices egg me on to protect him with my life. I know I’d never hurt him. I can’t remember how long I’d wished for death until I was gifted with him. His fathers a darn fool & I was naive & desperate. He was my “first love” We live together but are separate. In a loveless, dutiful agreement. My poor son will always need protection from me from his family. They are OK. Just -goodness- killers. My ex is yet another reason I have trust issues. I told him about the voices & he dismissed me at the start. But when I proved it. Shit hit the fan & that’s when I learned the hardest life lesson so far. It really be like that sometimes. Please. Search up the movie “Once were Warriors” Trailer on YT. & that was something similar I witnessed with my ex’s family. I even had the pleasure of experiencing some of it, unfortunately. It made me stronger in a way. But it also broke me, my bad voices became more unstable. Insatiable. Unrestrained. They’d wait til my train of thought was silent then send scenarios like, really, evil fucked up. Just no. Wrong. Type stuff. Ive never lost my self control to act it out. Ever.
but still it’d play out in my head & if someone saw me physically cringe, I was embarrassed but now I don’t care. I walk away & act like I don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s not like if I told them they’d believe me. They’d just dismiss me. As I have been forever but I don’t mind. Like I said, lone wolf. I can sit back & really get to know people then. I’ve had friends. No real true friends, though you can’t miss you you never had so. I’ve tried to befriend people. Genuinely, I’ve always wanted a bestie. Somebody to vent to. Someone to lean on. But people just don’t stick around me. Guys almost seem scared & girls. They want to be friends but most of the time they already have good good friends or are just dumb & I don’t want to spend my free time unhappy with dummies. In school I wasn’t dumb. But my teachers couldn’t label me smart. I don’t know why the I’ve always struggled with method in school. So they labelled be as “has potential” I can do the work. Just not using the method they provide. I created my own ways to solve things. Also, I hated everybody & everyone hated me. End of story. I’m minority in my country already. Add that to, scorned woman, literally single mother, daddy issues, under 25, poor, one income family & crazy. Well fuck, no wonder I have no friends. If i can’t even get a best friend, how will I ever be a wife??? I lost love for my ex when he said he didn’t want to make me his wife. I don’t need the fuckin piece of paper to make me happy, I don’t need the fkn white dress & ceremony, I want what marriage is. I want to promise of love, till death do is part. I want the gesture it represents. The pure love. The desire to be only with me for the rest of their life. To be as close as possible. I just want. Somebody to actually hold me. But I can only hold my son & hope. One day.
Ah man. Fucking crazy.