37 Schizophrenic People Describe The Terrifying Voices They Hear

25. I hear random muttering of syllables by what seems to be an old man.

“I hear random muttering of syllables by what seems to be an old man. Sometimes I notice myself moving my lips while it happens. I hear random conversations between 2-5 people. They speak about entirely random things and last for about 30 seconds. I hear random clicking and walking sounds, as if someone is around my computer and reading it; it caused me to get up and check on the terminal more times than I can imagine. And then there are the voices that tell me to trust no one. They say everyone hate me, they fake everything in the interaction with me to get to me and hurt me even more. They tell me I hold absolutely no value to anyone, that I am a menace that has to be extinguished, that I need to die. They tell me everyone else is traitorous and that I need to kill or be killed. They tell me that the girl I love is the leader of all this, that she played this joke on me so that I will live the worst existence that can exist. They make me lash out against people, especially my parents. But my parents are part of this. They can’t help me, they are part of the problem. Usually when those things happen I freeze.

I took 4 different drugs so far, and currently on 800 mg Seroquel/day. It’s almost the maximal dosage, but the change it started has halted and has started to revert. I see a psychiatrist once a week and a psychologist twice. I don’t trust either of them. I hate talking to them. The psychologist is one of them, and the psychiatrist pretends to understand.

I am alone in my room all day, every day for around seven months now. I sit in my room in front of the computer with a large headset, playing some kind of music or sounds all the time. They muff out the voices, sort of. This year was meant to be my last year in high school. I am the one who finally called for help late last year. But I feel like things were much better when I asked for help. A lot of people seem to act as if I am pretending, that I can just get over it and study like everyone else for my finals. I won’t be conscripted into the army like everyone else, a rite of passage, of sort, in my country.

I am useless. I don’t believe they can help me, or that I can change. I will die here, like this. Alone in the darkness, as I have came to call it. Some people suggested I befriend the darkness, but I don’t see a way in hell to befriend it. It wants me to die. It wants me to lie and manipulate, and I cannot resist it. So far I have managed to hurt several people without their knowledge, but I fear in the end I will take more drastic measures against them.

I am so sick of this. I can’t remember what its like to have peace anymore. Everything is barely a distraction at best. I don’t know or remember what real empathy or love are anymore. I want to hurt other people so they will join my misery, I know I shouldn’t but it’s very hard to control. Maybe in the end something will change, but I don’t know if I will be there to experience it.”


26. There’s the goddamn voice in my head that tries to persuade me to try and do violent things.

“Do you know the Master from Doctor Who and his drumming? Imagine that, but real. And then there’s the goddamn voice in my head that tries to persuade me to try and do violent things.”



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