Post by Fern on Sept 28, 2018 7:11:22 GMT -5
You all know my story already. Untreated with voices (especially) for forty years while surviving my family and then raising my sons alone. I got help after I came to #thevillage and saw such examples of strength and honesty, I was inspired. I'm so glad!
I've been asked how I survived voices for so long and I've never really detailed it. I've said, "I learned to block them out." That's the short version. Don't worry, the long version isn't that much longer. In my mind, I put up a plexiglass wall between the voices and me. They always seemed to be off to my right. The main voice yelled into my right ear. So I put the wall up and I could see him pounding on it to get my attention. I could hear the sound of his fists on the wall dimly, hear his voice muted a lot. Couldn't hear the others at all. What I saw was out of the corner of my eye and I convinced myself I was making it up eventually. As I got older, the wall got thicker, as though I added layers to it as each year passed.
While all that helped enormously, NOTHING helped more than something I was aware of even when they started at 15 years old. I knew beyond doubt the voices were not external beings, but rather part of my own mind somehow, for some reason, persecuting me. I wish I could tell you I had positive voices, too. I did not. I used to cling to the knowledge that it was from my own mind, low self-esteem gone horribly awry - that's what I told myself at first when I got terribly frightened my parents would find out - and illness mixing together. As I got older, I no longer had to cling to it. It was just fact and had to be accepted so I could deal with life and move on with it. It is what it is.
Take care,
Fern
I've been asked how I survived voices for so long and I've never really detailed it. I've said, "I learned to block them out." That's the short version. Don't worry, the long version isn't that much longer. In my mind, I put up a plexiglass wall between the voices and me. They always seemed to be off to my right. The main voice yelled into my right ear. So I put the wall up and I could see him pounding on it to get my attention. I could hear the sound of his fists on the wall dimly, hear his voice muted a lot. Couldn't hear the others at all. What I saw was out of the corner of my eye and I convinced myself I was making it up eventually. As I got older, the wall got thicker, as though I added layers to it as each year passed.
While all that helped enormously, NOTHING helped more than something I was aware of even when they started at 15 years old. I knew beyond doubt the voices were not external beings, but rather part of my own mind somehow, for some reason, persecuting me. I wish I could tell you I had positive voices, too. I did not. I used to cling to the knowledge that it was from my own mind, low self-esteem gone horribly awry - that's what I told myself at first when I got terribly frightened my parents would find out - and illness mixing together. As I got older, I no longer had to cling to it. It was just fact and had to be accepted so I could deal with life and move on with it. It is what it is.
Take care,
Fern