The voices I heard got worse over time. I heard different voices than the ones I dubbed God and Jesus, and just assumed that most of them were angels, and maybe a few demons. I got lazy talking to people. I started talking a lot less than I used to, and Devin just thought I was boring. I thought at some point an angel told me that he would give me the superpower of ESP. During a lot of time when Devin and I weren’t talking, I imagined we were having conversations telepathically. I never told him that I thought we were talking telepathically though, because I thought he already knew. I thought I was having telepathy with some old friends from Bible study my first year, and I appreciated that they wanted to talk to me. Although a few years ago I had thought that my mom was nuts for believing in telepathy, I now realized the error of my ways and believed. Every day the voices got louder, stronger, and more frequent. This made studying for school more difficult and holding conversations almost impossible. During the time that I was dating Devin, he might as well have been dating one of my voices. When I did talk to him, I would only repeat what the voice said in my head, and only if it was nice.
I started having delusions about Devin. I thought Jesus was telling me that I was called to be celibate after the symbolic marriage in the Catholic Church. I was confused. I didn’t understand that sealing a deal of going to heaven meant also staying celibate. I didn’t want to disobey, but I was also confused because the voice kept telling me that Devin and I were meant to be together. I didn’t see what would be wrong with me and Devin marrying each other, we were both virgins and Christian. Eventually I had a vision of seeing Devin be killed in the shower with a chainsaw by a stranger if we got married, and I had gotten to the point where I believed every time I had a daydream or hallucination they were really visions telling me the future or some kind of truth.
At first I tried to ignore the delusions I was having. I didn’t really need to remain celibate. I could marry Devin. Nobody was going to kill Devin if I married him. But every day the memory of the delusions wore on me. I started to think they were more and more true. There were other problems in the relationship too. I ended up losing touch with my old friends while Devin and I were together. He was always talking to hundreds of people on Facebook, including girls prettier than me. I got jealous. I not only was jealous that he had so many friends when I had none, I was also jealous of the relationships he had with other girls. I didn’t trust him. One day while I was calling him and he was in his room I heard him talking to another girl in the background. I got suspicious. He said that I wasn’t allowed to visit his room, but obviously he had let someone else in. What if he was playing me?
My second year ended. My grades had gone down, but I had found my future husband. Back home my brother had moved out of home and into an apartment to study, because mom was treating him so badly. Mom had come into my dad’s office during a birthday celebration and accused him of being part of the mafia. Luckily the people in the office knew my dad and his character and didn’t believe that he was. My mom had also accused my dad of adultery. Her schizophrenia was getting worse. She believed that all of this was true because she had had a daydream of it. How absurd, I thought. Her daydreams are nothing like my visions which were actually true.
As summer began, I was at summer school making up the units I dropped. My sister was there with me too, but to get ahead. Devin was at home. Devin was sad that we couldn’t see the Fourth of July fireworks together, but invited me to one of my old friend’s parties for the Fourth of July. I then became convinced that I had to go because one of the voices told me something bad would happen to Al if I didn’t go. Not only did I want to go for fun, but I also felt it was my God given duty.
The Fourth of July party was fun. Someone cooked cheeseburgers for everyone. I didn’t know that many people there, but I made myself cozy. I had trouble saying anything because the voices had become more frequent. I felt like my life was scripted, because I had gotten to the point where I would only say something if the voices said it first. The party was filled with a bunch of people from Intervarsity. Everyone stayed at the house first, and then everyone shuffled into cars and drove off to Coronado to see the fireworks. I got in a car with a bunch of people from my first year bible study group. Al rode in the trunk until I demanded that he ride in the car like he was supposed to. I was convinced that I had saved his life doing so, and that I had fulfilled the mandate from God to keep Al safe.
After the Fourth of July party, I rewarded Devin’s kindness of inviting me to the party by breaking up with him. I didn’t give him any warning. I didn’t explain why. I just called him and told him briefly that I didn’t love him anymore, and that I was breaking up with him. When I told dad about breaking up with him, my dad was surprised. I had just had Devin over at home for Easter and had him meet the family. Everything was going well. Why did I break up with him? I explained that I just wasn’t enough in love with Devin to get married.
In truth I had become convinced that if Al had actually been in danger of riding in the trunk, then that might mean that Devin was actually in danger of getting killed by a stranger if I married him like the voices were telling me? After the party I took the voices more seriously, even though I was having trouble remembering which voices were which. I wasn’t sure whether God or Jesus was even talking to me anymore. Whenever I thought Jesus was talking to though, he would talk about the wedding. After awhile I got frustrated. I kept asking why I had to give up my friendships and potential husband just based on what he had to say. What about my family? I hadn’t talked to them in a while. I was afraid to do anything that the voices didn’t tell me to do. Luckily they told me to study all the time, even though I couldn’t study very well. The voice would just tell me that God is the most important thing and that all of these things were true.
Chapter 3: Solitude
My third year began. After I broke up with Devin, I stopped talking. I would go to class. I would study. I would eat. I would sleep. I would shower. I felt so broken. Because I refused to talk to anyone my perspective on reality started to shift. I missed Devin. I missed my old friends. I missed my family. Despite missing everyone, I didn’t reach out to anyone.
The voices became more constant. I was barely able to study at all. My grades kept getting worse over time. I may have been pre-med, but my chances of getting into graduate school were getting dimmer and dimmer. I wasn’t even sure I would be able to graduate. My performance was falling through the floor. I didn’t want to give up though. I didn’t want to be a quitter.
I would obsess about my grades. I had managed to increase my grades over the summer. I thought my last chance to do anything in the medical field was to become a pharmacist. I decided to take a public speaking class in order to become a pharmacy student, along with the other courses like organic chemistry.
At first I was focused on my grades. I was always focused on my grades, but my loneliness started to sink in. I got to the point where I was asking God how I could go on like this and the voices told me that nuns spent their time studying and almost never talked, and that I could do the same. I asked God how could I go on by myself, and the voice said that I would always have it to talk to.
Those times were really hard for me. The voices were already talking a lot, but mostly they would just ramble. They started telling me to be wary of everyone around me. They told me to spend more and more time listening to them. All I did was the basic student necessities and listen to the voices for a time.
The voices started to invade every part of my life. They would start telling what to eat, when to eat, what to buy, when to take a shower, and when to talk to them. My life after that was a blur. I would go to school, walk home, go to the grocery store, buy whatever the voices told me to that was food, carry it home, take a bath, and study. I started losing weight because I would only eat what the voices told me to, which was less than what I had been eating before. The voices kept telling me I was fat and needed to lose weight.
I couldn’t stop fantasizing about my old friends. I probably didn’t mean half as much to them as they meant to me. I had only seen them for a year, a year and a half, and they were all popular and had lots of other friends before and after meeting me. I had turned into a loner again, and it was entirely of my own doing. I now referred to Devin as my ex. I had been upset at the times that he had called me a fat, boring loser, but I still craved the attention. I would have telepathy with old friends to pass the time. Their voices sounded exactly the same.
Because I thought I had a connection to the divine, I was obsessed with being holy, so I would spend all of my time only listening to Christian music for fun. I would also spend all of my time having daydreams that I couldn’t control. After a while I was so used to hallucinating all of the time that even the furniture started looking transparent in my mind’s eye. I was secretly getting sick of the spiritual gifts if it meant being completely isolated and failing out of school, but if this was a gift from God, how could I refuse? I started to even see beings of whitish yellow light in the form of angels with six wings standing in my apartment sometimes.
It took a long time before I finally asked God to get rid of the gift of hearing voices. I told him that I wanted to hear his voice, but just not all of the time. I read up online about remote viewers that used to be a part of the Stargate Project. I read about how once their gifts started they wouldn’t stop. I thought maybe that was what I was going through. It didn’t seem like there was any cure for it, so I went on living with it. I would have looked up youtube videos, but I had just grown more apathetic to life in general. I stopped playing the piano after one of the voices told me it would direct my right hand while playing. It screwed up my playing and made me lose interest in it in general. I also stopped playing because there was just no time for it, and because the injury from hapkido had limited my body’s ability to even sit, let alone play the piano. The voices were taking up more and more of my time.
I started in my spare time to really wonder what I was doing with my life. How could I serve God if he and all these spirits were always talking to me? What was the point of having telepathy if I wasn’t doing anything with it? I wasn’t serving anyone. I wasn’t helping anyone. I thought maybe if I had become rich and had extra money I could donate a little of it and that would be my way of helping humanity. What if God had called me to be something different? What was my purpose?
I thought maybe if I just kept doing what the voices told me to do; I would be serving my purpose. I assumed that most if not all of the voices came from God or from an angel serving God. I decided my purpose was to do whatever the voices to tell me to do.
The voices would tell me about Intervarsity while I studied. It would tell me that they are really evil, and not good, but that some of the people were. I didn’t really believe that, because so much of the fruits of the people in it were greater than mine, and they actually lived for God. I started to question more and more what voices were from God and what voices weren’t. They would sound similar but have very different content.
I started hearing more telepathic voices in my head. I grew afraid of Intervarsity or any of any of the people in it. I started to hate my Spanish teacher because I couldn’t get her voice out of my head. She was always telepathically insulting me. One of the few things I told my sister was how much I hated my Spanish teacher, but I wouldn’t explain it was because all of the horrible things she would tell me telepathically.
I eventually decided that my purpose was to unravel the secrets behind the book of Revelation, because the voices told me that they would tell me the secrets if I was willing to do some research. When I had finished writing it, the answer to everything was the United States of America. I thought I had done it! I had cracked Revelation! But on reading it the second time I knew it wasn’t it, but I published it anonymously online anyways because the voices told me to. The only response I got from anyone online was a rating of three stars. I then became more afraid of the government than I already was.
Sometime in the middle of the year my mom lost it. She put a steak knife under my dad’s pillow and lighter fluid on his desk stand. This happened while my brother was still living in an apartment away from home. He had gotten a Transfer agreement guarantee into UCSD, but nobody was talking to him. She went to visit my brother at apartment shortly after that with expired cans of food. This made my brother feel unsafe. Then she took off to Montana to live her sister.
When I found out that my mom had taken off, I started to wonder over time if she was dead. I started hallucinating that she was dying during the day. I kept thinking that while she was gone that someone had killed her. This made me panic. Next thing I knew my mom was filing for a divorce. She had left me an incomplete text before leaving for Montana, but I was afraid she would come crash at my place and follow me to campus if I answered, and I didn’t want that to happen. Plus, at that time, I thought she was just being overly dramatic and that whatever it was going on she was fine.
After my mom took off to Montana, I started to wonder if there really were people stalking her. I started thinking that maybe the same people that were stalking my mom might be looking for her at my school. I wondered how many people it would take to gang stalk my mom. Probably one hundred, I thought. What did they want? Even she could never figure that out. What if they were real? The voices started hinting that it was true, and that I had just been oblivious. I started having a hallucination that my mom was falling through the floor slowly by being sucked into a purple vortex and that she was reaching out her hands towards me for help, but I wouldn’t grab them. I didn’t like my mom, but I was worried about her.
I thought if the gang stalkers were anything, they must be around for the sole purpose of making people look crazy. They had gas lighted my mom! But why would they gaslight my mom? They must be still looking for her. I tried asking the voices why she had been gas lighted, but the voices didn’t know much about them other than they were here where I was, looking for my mom. I let the thought of my mom’s stalkers trail into the distance. I was unwilling to do anything about it, especially since I didn’t even know who or what I was looking for.
During my third year the voices told me to read the Bible all the way through. I read about ten pages a day, despite hearing voices. The pages would glow. As I read over the words, the words would turn gold. I didn’t take much in about the Bible except about Jesus’ sacrifice. It made me really wonder what I was doing with my life and if this was the life God wanted from me, especially if I was prophet. I knew deep down that I could never live up to the expectations of a prophet, and was ashamed of my life. I posted some of the things I thought God told me online and anonymously because I was too ashamed of my own life to come out of the closet and tell the world in person. I knew no one would listen, especially if they saw my life and how I was just chasing after money, and just chasing after the wind.
While I was in my public speaking class I had a daydream about a slide being built along the beach. I wondered what it meant, or if it was even a slide. Two quarters later I found a building being made that looked similar to it, except without water running down it. It reinforced my idea that I was really connected to God somehow. I thought of it as being telepathy with God.
The voices started telling me to do more than just the basics after a while. They started growing louder also. Despite not wanting to look for mom’s stalkers, I did just that. I was worried about her, and I thought if I could find them then everything would get better. I wasn’t sure who or what I was looking for, but I was determined to find them. I didn’t have a car, so I always went on foot. I would check all over the place for the stalkers. Everywhere I went I had my eyes and ears out for them. What I found was not what I had expected.
The more I kept my eyes and ears open, the more things I heard. I would hear strangers talking about me sometimes in passing. Every time that happened I got nervous, and thought maybe they were connected to my mother’s stalkers. How else would they know about my life? It kept happening more and more frequently until eventually I heard it every day. Strangers talking about me or my mom everywhere I went! Whether I was at the beach, the campus, or the downtown, I would find some stranger talking about me. I couldn’t figure out why, because I knew I wasn’t a celebrity. I never confronted any of them though. I was too scared. I tried to keep a tally in my mind of who said what. What kind of strangers said what, but I couldn’t. Eventually everyone knew everything about my life everywhere I would go. It was a frightening experience. At a certain point I didn’t have to keep my eyes or ears open anymore, it was in my face. I had to get to the root of things. I had to find out the identities of the original stalkers that kept telling everyone about me. I would wander around just to hear the gossip about my own life, but I never turned up anything I didn’t already know.
I spent all my spare time that wasn’t spent doing homework or listening to voices to try to figure out what was going on. Why were my mom’s stalkers here? Why had I never believed her? Why did everyone keep talking about me? I saw my sister very little. My sister was busy, which was probably for the best. I already talked almost not at all, but once everyone started talking about me everywhere I went, I didn’t talk. I wanted to find out how much the stalkers knew without me telling anyone anything. I would sometimes go see a movie with my sister, but aside from that I didn’t see her. As time wore on I wasted more and more time trying to stalk the stalkers, but I never did figure out who they were.
The voices eventually started talking 24/7. I started doing everything they said. It was like a long game of Simon Says. Jump on one leg. Spin in a circle. Laugh. Be quiet. Study study study! Go home. Go take a shower. Go to bed. Even in my sleep I would hear voices or fragments of my paranoia in the shape of a dream. I got to the point where I believed all of the teachers on campus were conducting an experiment on me to prove telepathy exists, without anyone telling me that. I believed that I had to do whatever the voices said because God would be mad at me if I didn't. I thought I was appointed to be a judge and condemn everyone to hell. At this point I didn't hear a voice that sounded like the original ways I labeled God and Jesus.
At first I fought the voices, but over time I just couldn't fight it anymore. At first I responded, "Of course the teachers are not experimenting on me. I'm not really a judge. No I won't condemn any good people to hell. Of course I don't need to make an idiot of myself by following a neon turquoise line all over campus after hours and hop on one leg for ten minutes." However, over time I did everything the voices told me. The more I heard the voices, the less I heard my own. All those humiliating things I thought I was doing I did. I even thought I was starting WWIII by yelling at the voices in my head. I even thought everyone knew my secret, that I thought I was a prophet.
Despite all the delusions, I still stayed in school. Then the second quarter of the third year came around, and I kept having dreams about a tsunami. I kept telling my sister about the tsunami, since I had begun doubting the voices really being God since they told me to do ridiculous, time wasting things, and sometimes even impossible commands, and often they were wrong. For a month I kept dreaming about a tsunami like the one God had warned me about years ago. Then it happened. The tsunami came off the coast of Japan, followed by radiation. Even my sister was surprised when that happened. Then after that I felt self justified. I had expected it to happen within my lifetime, but not quite that way. I was worried about my family and San Francisco but couldn’t do anything about it. I remember seeing the radiation coming to San Francisco and close to my house, but just missing my family, but I was still worried sick about them. Instead it happened in Japan.
After this I went berserk. I started believing all the voices were true and claiming the voices were from God. I should have known better. I shouldn’t have said anything, but instead I kept telling my family that all these ridiculous things would happen that never did. I felt guilt for not telling more people about the dream I had had in advance. What if it had stopped the radiation from happening? I then became afraid again and did whatever the voices told me to.
After that I dropped out of school. I kept thinking of catastrophes that would happen. I would look for them online. I was worried about famine. I was worried about drought. I was worried about India. I was worried about the homeless. I lost my mind. I kept thinking that if I had any kind of dream or any kind of hallucination that it must be real or pertain to something real. I demanded that my family stock up on rice and beans. I started drawing with permanent marker on the walls. I would wander around aimlessly for hours. I went to go preach the word of God on the beach by drawing in messages in the sand and talking to people. When I preached I would say whatever the voices told me to, as long as it pertained to the greatness of God or a scripture that I remembered.
My brother started worrying about me. My dad thought I burned out and helped me by letting me stay at home until I was ready to re enroll for school. I only went more berserk and did whatever stupid thing the voices told me to do. Luckily the voices only asked that I do stupid things while nobody was looking, so I wouldn't appear as crazy as I was. The rest of that time is a blur. I lost weight, which was a good thing, because I only ate food when the voices told me to. I started running from the shadows that the voices told me were demons that started appearing in more places and more frequently. One day I was sitting on a pine tree that grew almost horizontally, while I viewed an enormous snake like shadow appear in the far distance. I thought if I kept doing whatever the voices told me to do that things would get better, that I would finish college, that the voices would eventually stop.
I eventually went to see a psychologist, but I didn't dare tell her what I was really thinking about. I only went because my dad wanted me to and I was doing really badly in my classes. I only told her about my past, how I'd been bullied in middle school, and how I was sad that I couldn't make friends and keep them. I told her how upset I was about failing in school. I cried. She suggested that maybe I become a nurse.
I tried several times to start school and then I would withdraw. Eventually the voices commanded me to not study and get two F's, or else the gang stalkers that were stalking my mom would move into Texas and kill people. I begged and pleaded that I could study, but they kept asking me if it what was more important, my future or their lives? I eventually conceded and got two F's in some upper division biology classes that I needed to finish. I dropped out again and then started school again. all the meanwhile the voices got faster and louder. When I tried to retake those classes I was told for the first two weeks of the quarter that I wasn't allowed to study. Then the night of the midterm I got locked out on the cliffs overnight during a thunderstorm. I thought that it was a subliminal message that the cops were out to get me too, so I became too afraid to call the cops to open the door. Instead I waited in the freezing, cold rain until morning, trying to make sure not to sleep the whole time. After that I dropped out.
I tried one last time to start school again, but it was a year later. By this point I believed that almost anyone could a stalker, and they could be anywhere. Even when I tried to study for classes and the voices allowed me to study, I couldn't function. I had lost the ability to hear my own thoughts. I had been praying for quite some time for the voices to go away, but each day they only grew stronger. I was convinced WWIII was about to begin.
My last try ended shortly. I was sitting in the back of Spanish class that I was retaking. I then heard the voices of teachers through the wall. I thought they were talking about me. They were saying my name. They were saying they knew I had been claiming to be a prophet. They called me a disgrace. They were upset because everybody knew about it. They wanted to keep it a secret. They said it had become a world wide phenomenon. A couple days before when I had gone to that same Spanish class I had seen two men in black suits and ear pieces, and I thought one of them said they were there to protect me. I heard the teachers rant and go on and on and on about what a humiliating disgrace I was to even be at the establishment. How I didn't deserve to be there. That I was a cheater. How I was an idiot for being suspicious of my brother an sister because there was nothing wrong with them, and they were upstanding citizens. They said I was ramming people over with my bike.
I stayed until the end of the class. I was in tears. I covered my tears by putting my head on top of my arm on top of the desk and pretending to be sleeping through the group exercises in class. I was shaking. I felt my whole world was falling apart. I walked home after class instead of taking my bike. I then realized that my family was safe and upstanding, but that the teachers were in on it. That the fault was completely my own.
The voices then immediately after that turned hostile. They told me that I was a lying prophet, an abomination, a cheater, a screwup, a disgrace, and more. They told me I had to commit suicide. They had also told me in the recent past that I might have to hurt people, but I had ignored the call to do so because I didn't want to, and there was always another command immediately afterwards.
I told my brother what my teachers had told me while I was in tears. He was skeptical and said not to worry about it, especially if the teachers were in another room. I may have misheard. I then suspected that the government was watching everything I had typed onto my computer, because how else would they know that I thought I was a prophet? The voices told me that WWIII had finally begun, and I, the false prophet, was responsible for it. I had a really long prayer begging for forgiveness for everything. I then went to my computer to write up a document on Word to apologize for all the things I thought I had done through telepathy, and for starting WWIII. I then tried to drown myself in the bathtub. I had hit my limit, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't drown myself. I didn't have the willpower. I became convinced that if I didn't kill myself within the next week or less I would go to hell.
I prayed and prayed and prayed for forgiveness. I instead decided to go to sleep. When I woke up, I was convinced that I was really the Whore of Babylon, because of what all the voices had been telling me. A day later, my sister and brother decided to use a screwdriver to put together a table and had talked about how they were worried the hamster would get a hole in it's brain if it didn't gnaw on something they bought. I was convinced from eavesdropping that they were going to try to drill a hole in my brain while I was sleeping. I couldn't believe it, but I did. I was shocked. I was horrified. How could they do this to me? Why would they want to do this to me? For the next two days I tried sleeping outside of the apartment. I kept asking my brother if he really loved me. I tried sleeping the woods on campus for a couple of hours. I tried sleeping in a bathroom overnight. This was just after I thought I was finally going to get it together, but instead my grades were all F's because I didn't study unless I was in an underground parking lot on the opposite side of campus from my apartment, and the voices never ceased.
I prayed again for forgiveness, that I wouldn't have to kill myself to go to Heaven, and then I heard a voice that sounded like the one I had identified as God. It told me to go turn myself into the police. I waited until morning after trying to sleep in my apartment again. I saw a tv in the morning on the way to campus where I decided to turn myself in, and even the tv was saying that I had caused several people to die by jaywalking across the street a while back. I was terrified.
I went to campus. I walked outside the admissions center, convinced I must have cheated if the teachers had said I had. I then dialed 911. I told them it was an emergency. I told them that I was a cheater, and that I didn't deserve to be a student there. I told them to come right away. They told me to wait until some police could get there.
The police finally arrived. I told them that I had committed crimes against humanity repeatedly, believing that there must be a reason the entire world was conspiring to kill me, that I must be the false prophet and the whore of babylon. They looked confused and asked me to specify my crimes. I couldn't respond. I wasn't even sure what I had done, but I was convinced that everyone wanted justice against me, and that there must be a reason I was supposed to commit suicide to get to heaven. I told them that I was a cheater. They were talking amongst each other and wondering why I was being so quiet. I kept telling them to arrest me. They eventually asked me to get in the car. I was relieved. If I could get myself thrown in jail, then I would forgiven. I thought they were going to tell me what my crimes were, but instead they drove me to the school psychologist. When I got there, they showed me how to sign up for an appointment, and about an hour later, I got one.
When I finally was talking to the psychologist, I had completely lost my mind and had gone berserk. I quickly blurted out that I was hearing voices before the voices could stop me and keep me to yet another vow of silence. It felt like such relief. They asked me about whether I was thinking of hurting myself or others, and I said yes to both. I told them that I was worse than Hitler, that I didn't deserve to live, and that my soul was already in hell. To my surprise, they asked me to go to the mental hospital. I was disheartened because I hadn't killed myself or landed myself in jail, so I decided everything was over for my afterlife, and so this life was worthless, and I might as well go. They asked if I had family, and I said that I had a brother and sister there, so they told me to call them, and both my sister and brother escorted me to the psych ward.
When I got to the mental hospital I recognized the entrance. It was the hospital I had failed to volunteer for. I felt like a sham. I felt betrayed. More than anything, I felt I deserved the worst treatment possible. I didn't know why they weren't already attacking me. When me and my siblings got to the mental hospital, I had to sign a bunch of papers to stay, so I did. When my sister was on the phone with my dad to tell him the situation, I thought he said that I should have been strung up and tortured. Then my siblings left.
The psych ward was a happy blur. Suddenly I felt better and the voices lessened in loudness and number. My siblings visited everyday, and suddenly after receiving a couple of shots and asking them about their conversation, I realized they had been talking about the screwdriver for the table and about the hamster. I was so happy to see them for the first time in a long time. I finally started talking to my sister, convinced I was going to hell no matter what anyways. I made a couple of friends, ate delicious food, and was finally able to read for the first time in months. My sister and brother brought me a bunch of books. There was one women that called me a nazi, and I got a lot more depressed almost instantly when the medicine wore off, but I felt relieved. When I was there I felt safe from all the stalkers. I was deciphering a lot in my head, but I figured that the voices in my head I no longer needed to follow, because they kept telling me to leave the psych ward, which was impossible for me to do. My mind just became a lot more clear. My dad and the school supervisor gave me a withdrawal for the quarter.
Chapter 4 Recovery
After that my family sent me straight home. I didn't object. I finally stopped following all of the voices, and it felt like such a relief, but I was still convinced that I was going to hell. When I got home, I suddenly seeing the shadows over my body and the mirror and panicked, thinking I had become a demon in human form as a result of my soul leaving it and a demon taking its place. I was still worried that my dad would attack me, and some of the voices were saying that I should still punish myself. I heard one voice claiming to be Jesus, telling me that I still had a chance, and that he would never leave me if I wanted him to stay. Then not long after that I started taking a higher dose of medicine and all the voices completely went away.
Suddenly I was able to think clearly for the first time in years. I told my family that I was a false prophet, and they told me not to worry about it and forgave me. For the first two weeks I lied down on the floor everyday hoping to break my back as some form of punishment, but then I gave up because I knew that was no kind of punishment at all. I started wondering if maybe I wasn't really going to hell after all, but the thought never left my mind.
My dad hooked me up with a psychiatrist and a psychologist, and most importantly some meds. After explaining to the psychiatrist about the stalkers, I felt like an idiot even saying it. Hadn't I thought my mom was just being ridiculous for thinking that in the first place?
I finally came to grips with the fact that I had gone through major psychosis, and that my dreams of finishing college were shattered. The psychologists all told me I had what my mom had: paranoid schizophrenia.
I struggled with wanting to commit suicide thereafter because I didn't want to live as one. I felt ashamed that I hadn't understood my mother's condition. I was frustrated that I had never researched her illness. I now knew I was crazy. I felt I had no purpose in life anymore without a job. During that time I found a couple of Christian websites just to apologize for being a false prophet, because I was too much of a coward to apologize to a priest or someone else I might meet in person. I was thinking of cutting myself for my wrongs, or still committing suicide as punishment, but they all told me to just repent and ask for forgiveness. I felt like that was too lenient of a judgment, but I don't enjoy pain. I never got the courage up to cut myself, and worrying about my family and hell kept me from suicide.
When I was on one of the websites, I asked about my depression about doing nothing with my life, and one of the members told me that everybody has a purpose.
© Copyright 2017 Amber Lee. All rights reserved.
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