the scary stuff

It’s been a long and crazy rough road getting to where I am now. I’m not out of the woods yet but the light is starting to shine through.

In the beginning it started with severe depression. I would be with family and around good vibes and still feel like I wasn’t even there. I hear people talking in the background but it’s just an echo. I’m there but I’m not. No one is home. I’ve floated away to nowhere land and not looking to come back anytime soon.

Seeing things has been there since I was a kid. This is just what has happened recently. Ghosts would be walking around my apartment. There were 5 of them at one point. There was a little girl hunched over on the floor by the piano looking at me during my piano lessons. She wouldn’t move, she would just look at me. There was a tall white naked man with lacerations all over his body always walking across the hallway pacing back and forth. I can’t remember the other three. They wouldn’t talk to me. They would just be there. On the drive home I would have a ghost or two riding in the back seat. There was always someone following me, but would never reveal himself.  I didn’t like to look in the mirror because there would be someone else looking back at me but it wasn’t me.

Then came the demons. The ghosts would disappear when the demons came. There were a lot of them. They would bounce off the walls hanging around everywhere in my apartment. At first they would just stay in the living room. At night I would go to sleep and I could only see them at the door. Night after night they would get closer. In the room. Next, the bedroom light fixture, and then right behind me and whisper in bad things in my ear. I was too scared to remember what they said because I jumped out of bed and ran to the couch and called a friend. I was afraid to be in my own apartment. I sleep with the lights on because if I turn them off, she will be there to take me. She is waiting at the foot of my bed just at the right time, to take me.

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My Pastor and some Elders at the church came for a couple weeks to do prayer sessions at my apartment and it did help a little.

I still sleep with the lights on.

Then came the voices. There were three of them. The nice one who didn’t like to argue. The mean one who dictated over everything, and the middle one who tried to keep the peace. Eventually the mean one took over and she started plotting. This is when the suicidal thoughts and attempts started. She would tell me what to do all day long. Write a letter to this person. Say goodbye to that person. Give all your account information to that person. I actually gave all my account information to my best friend just in case anything ever did happen, he could give it to my family. I had dreams that I was dead. I knew there were times that I was sure I wouldn’t make it to my next birthday. I knew that I wasn’t going to last very long. I had no desire to live anymore. I was numb to everything. The mean voice really didn’t have to say much for me to attempt anything at my own life. There was one night, all I had to do was go into my art box and find my xacto knife and just end it right then and there. I guess it wasn’t my time yet because some part of me kept me from pulling it off. Another incident was when I got home and all I wanted to do was swallow as much pills as I could and sleep and not wake up. I ended up calling a friend before any of it happened. As much as I wanted to die right then and there, at the same time, I didn’t. I don’t want to die. I think that is what is keeping me alive.

None of that happens now. I still have depressive episodes and sometimes suicidal thoughts but not as severe as it has been in the past. Things are getting better and all I can do is move forward.

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