First of all, no one believes me. There’s no way I’d choose this stigma just to be different. I figure this is amusing so I’m going to put it out there. It all started in 2014 when I was 24 years old, 2 years after my dad died. I began recording EVPs to try and contact him out of desperation. It took weeks before I heard any results, but that entailed listening to hours of static and white noise. I was dedicated and felt confident that all of this would pay off and it did. I began hearing subtle messages in the noise, I even got others to listen and hear the same messages. Only after doing this for months I began noticing these messages were not limited to voice recorders. I had tuned into something that I wasn’t supposed to know about and couldn’t undue this change to my hearing. I hear voices all of the time now ricocheting off of preexisting sounds….I don’t know how I did it really, but it has nearly ruined my life. For one, I can’t get pregnant because of the medication I must remain on for the rest of my life which may cause possible birth defects. Aside from that, the voices say intelligent and relevant things for the most part…and when I say I hear them all of the time I mean it is a constant stream of bullshit unless I’m able to distract myself with a task. The types of voices I first experienced were callous and wicked. They taunted me every hour of the day for my ability to hear them. I believed going out in public would draw even more attention to me from other spirits just because of the ones who followed me constantly making a scene. This is all crazy sounding, I know. What I’m telling you is that there are spirits everywhere and you don’t need to go playing around with the paranormal. Why go out of my way to make a fool of myself if I didn’t believe in what I was saying? I can’t fix the damage of what schizophrenia is doing to my life right now. I am convinced there are many others like me and we are all being labeled with mental illness despite there being nothing wrong with some of us. To be honest, the voices do drive me crazy occasionally. They never leave me alone and I live everyday thinking that I’m being followed or listened to. How do I change my beliefs on this matter? I’m getting better, but the paranoia is severe. What I’m going to write in this journal are the excerpts from my handwritten diary. You can say that my problems aren’t real but I’d really wish it was you and not me who had to go through this if that were the case because it is hell to live with. Medicine keeps everything in check but I cannot change my beliefs on the matter. Ultimately, I did end up hearing my dad’s voice, but he was worried for my health (“she really needs help”). I messed up.
12/05/15 “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
This book is in no particular order according to dates. I have compiled written notes on what has been happening to me on a day-to-day basis. These beings seem to feel entitled to invading my personal space in every aspect, including thoughts.
To begin with, it sounds like they’re speaking from faraway, through a thick, closed door. I hear their muffled words and phrases at random, and they sometimes resort to yelling at me. My mind cannot decipher all of the confusing sounds I hear, but it will search for a pattern where there may be none. I sometimes do invent the sounds I hear, but this is easily dismissible when it does occur. This is in no way a fake ordeal to me, much of what I encounter is very real and very external sounding. Every time I listen to the voices, I feel stupid and overwhelmed by the constant berating being said about me. It is too unbelievable for me to even grasp or accept in the idea that these beings are a product of my own subconscious mind.
On occasion, the air will appear to move, often seen out of the corner of my eye, a sign of their presence. I can never focus in on this movement nor discern any shape or form to it. An important note to add is the age of the voices, neither childish nor old, but almost always young adults. It is rare that I am not insulted or in a defensive state. Sometimes they are amusing though, and they will compliment my artwork or say something nice. As I write this, a young man has just called me a “psycho.” I hear the word “crazy” directed at me quite often, too. I’ve come to resent that word. I have been distrustful of these beings from the very start. It is possible that their unheard words are affecting me on some subliminal level, supposing for a second that they are real.
8/2/15 The voices communicate with me telepathically. They hear my thoughts and this is a stressful discovery to say the least. I cannot fathom how any of this is possible.
I’ll write more later…