Voices

Voices

Listen to yourself
Even through the self hatred
He knows you the most

There are voices today. I know they are only me, so I'm not worried. I
can't hear much over them it's just so annoying! My music is so loud,
but people keep coming to talk to me and I don't want them to, so one
of me tells me to kick fuck out them just to get them out of my face.
I'm not going to do it.

That's where I'm kind of lucky. The voices don't usually tell me to
actually do things, they just tell me to be careful of things or that
everybody hates me or that the voices themselves hate me, but they have
no power over me. I can ignore them or drown them out with my music.
Concentrate on the words. It makes me laugh when the voices sing along,
Jesus, sometimes they even do the harmony!

I know how crazy this is, by the way. In no way am I trying to pass my
self of as Joe Normal, or anything even remotely close, but I'm used to
this now. I've been getting manic maybe once, twice a year for the past
eleven years. It used to manifest itself in insomnia and I'd panic that
I wouldn't be able to get to school tomorrow, or that I'd think so hard
about not sleeping that I'd forget everything I had learned. That went
away by the time I was fifteen.

After I had been drinking for a few months I started fighting a bit,
and it used to scare the shit out of me. As I said before, I used to
get drunk, take Diazepam and head on out. Despite any chemical
persuasion, part of my mind was absolutely terrified, while another was
so into it, goading me on, crying out to get stuck in. I'm not really
sure if I can remember the first time I heard a voice, although I think
it was when I was sixteen and not long after I'd completely stopped
drinking.
I hadn't fought in a long time (relatively speaking). My best friend at
the time, his girlfriend and I were out for a walk when we passed a
couple of guys who decided they wanted a fight. Paul wasn't a fighter
and there was a girl there, so we decided to walk on. They caught up
with us in a grave yard - they had been following us for a little while
- I told Paul and Joanna to move on while I tried to talk to the
guys.

I turned on the guys and asked them what their problem was. Now, I
fully expected to follow this up with thoroughly kicking their arses,
but sadly, that part of my personality seemed to be gone. I completely
froze. The first guy threw a punch that glanced off my eye. It was
probably supposed have put down on the spot.

No.

I'd had worse in sparring.

Then all of a sudden the adrenaline from the pain kicked in and I felt
that flip of the stomach that felt like the worst and the best thing in
the world wrapped in the same package. And then?

+Fucking HIT HIM!!!+

From everywhere. Nowhere. I couldn't peg where the voice was coming
from - like it was directly into both ears at the same time. I shit
myself and spun left then right, genuinely thinking there was somebody
there. I recognised the voice, I knew I did.

Another fist came arcing out at me, really slowly. I threw my arm
across and blocked it at the elbow, his forearm just about wrapped
around mine.

+YES! His legs! His legs!+

I swung again. It was like someone whispering in my ear but without
feeling the breath. The skinnier guy look shocked at the block and
threw a feeble kick that I caught with my left leg, the other having
pulled back. I was beyond bewildered here it's not everyday that you
get accosted by a pair of idiots only to be spurred on by a voice in
your head. Suddenly they weren't there any more.

My arms hurt. My last image was a look of confusion on both faces. I
wasn't even paying attention to them. I was on my feet even after
they'd thrown their best at me. And I was ignoring them. There was moan
from everywhere.

+Fucking Chickenshit!

Then I was running. I was in somebody's back garden and I had picked up
a shovel or a rake or something. I wasn't even paying attention to
myself.

+Go and kill them!+

Paul. Joanna.

It hit me. I had left them alone. The guys had went after them that's
why they weren't at the entrance to the graveyard or anywhere
nearby.

+Go and?+

>Shut the FUCK up!

The voice stopped dead and I got calm. My eye started throbbing like
hell and I realised that I couldn't see out of it properly. There was a
big purple blotch on the outside edge that limited my vision. I started
shaking, absolutely terrified. I was scared about what might have
happened to my friends.

There were two blurry figures walking down the hill one was limping.
They were okay. My head suddenly flicked back ten minutes.

>Come on! Back me up! We can kill these fuckers! Paul! Ya wee piece
ae shit! We can fucking kill them!

My mouth had been twisted into a grin that hurt. I had been shouting
the whole time. Except it wasn't me.

It was the me of a year ago. I recognised the voice then. I knew it was
mine.

And that was the first time. Every time it happens, it is weird. I can
never sense it coming it's just suddenly there. It scares me cos it's
so close, but I never hear an intake of breath before it talks. Before
I talk. There is never any dispute. I know it is me and I know it isn't
real. Does that make me insane? Well, I don't answer back, if that
helps?

I don't really want to talk about it any more right now, cos I've
covered what I wanted to. I might talk about it later.

Maybe not.