A chapter about my hallucinations and addiction.
TW: hallucinations, depressing themes, substance addiction.
Fearful
When the noise of the day is loud and active it runs to the back of your mind, you can dismiss it when you are in front of a textbook or sitting in church, but this fear is a powerful force within you.
You are young and an addict without any doubt in you, you've known this since you were thirteen, you were fourteen at your first AA meeting, you were fifteen and seventeen picking up colorful sober chips.
You cannot deny how fearful you are that this continues with you, there is no denying the pain that could lay ahead because you've never been normal about it and you never will be.
You aren't sixteen anymore. You are scared you will break yourself and the people around you in a way that is more tangible than it already is. They won't stay forever. You won't be able to bounce back so easily in the future. You fear the awful things you did. You fear this becoming who you are.
You know this
It's not real, you know it, that should help, right?
You know it's not actually there. Look, your camera doesn't agree with the perception, what you are seeing is not real.
You know that. You know this. Act like it.
Put your face on, stop looking scared. You look scared, there's nothing to be afraid of, you know that.
Stop wearing it, they can hear it in the way you talk, they can see it in the way you move, they look at your face and they know, hide it better.
Remember when you could hide it? What happened? What changed within you that made this visible?
Stop looking so fearful. Stand up straight. Close your mouth and lay off the wide eyed dear look.
You're not supposed to talk when no one is there. Hold your tongue between your teeth so that doesn't happen again.
You're not supposed to react to things that aren't there. You know this. Keep yourself still. You have nothing to be afraid of, stop acting like it.
You did it again. Why do you act like this? Collect yourself. You're going to scare them again. You don't want that? Act like it. You're going to make them uncomfortable. Is that what you want?
Get your hands out of your mouth. Look them in the eye. Don't acknowledge the falsehoods. Stop looking at the hallucinations.
Talk like you would normally. Stop stuttering, there's nothing to be nervous about. Talk like you would if you weren't crazy. Think of the right words, you're a writer for god's sake.
Don't rock yourself, they'll think you're on drugs. Make eye contact and get your hands out of your mouth. Stop looking so scared.
If I could give you my eyes
Your mother doesn't like it when you say you keep getting worse but you are unsure what other words to use for it.
The hallucinations demand space within your life, more than they ever have.
You see awful things you cannot put to words, and that's what you do, put words to things. You cannot describe the things you see and hear but you can say there is something wrong about your perceptions.
You told your father that you wished you could give him your eyes and ears for a day, just so he could see the world as you do.
You're terrified that you become uncontrollable. You're scared you will start talking to people who aren't there, you already do that but it's different.
You feel yourself become hollow, you feel blank and emotionless. You are overcome by primal fear.
Sometimes people can see it in you. They see it in the way you stutter when you speak, they see it in the way your eyes dart around the room, they see it in the fearful reactions when nothing is really there, they see it when you mumble to yourself, talking to no one, they see it in all the little ways you try to soothe yourself.
Are you crazy? Well, of course you are. Are you too far gone? Not yet.
