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Staying Healthy
The Man in My Head
Trinity, Mar 29, 2007

I don�t want to fight with the people in my head anymore. I am sick of them. They talk to me. They stand around me and watch me while I sleep. They haunt me. They scare me. Mostly the man in my head. He scares me the most. See what people don�t understand is that you can�t just ignore the voices. The people you see. You can�t tell what is real and what is the fucked up world you have so hopelessly wound up in. It didn�t start right away. It started when I was about 11 but didn�t really get severe until about 16. No one believed me. They said I was some teenager with some problems that I needed to attend to. They didn�t see them. Why should they believe they are there? They are there though. I can see them and they tell me things. Things you wouldn�t believe were true. That�s not the point though. I wound up in mental hospitals because they hurt me. It�s okay you don�t need to believe me. They didn�t tell me to hurt me. I didn�t touch me. What would happen was I would I guess black out. My first really bad one was in High School. I remember being in front of the library with all the grungers at the school. I guess I just blacked out and took a knife from my bag and started yelling. I don�t really remember that part. Anyways next thing I know I am in a Principal�s office with two police men and a paramedic who was applying pressure to my wrists. Told me I was going to go somewhere to get help. I had no idea what was going on. Confused. Why were my wrists bleeding and how did I fucking get up here? Anyways I went to the hospital where I was treated and sent to the Nut Hut. The first time I was in there I became a nut hut groupie. The normal time in was anywhere from 3 days to a week. But I did 3 months. My �Parents� didn�t want me to come back �home�. So they left me there. Anyways I talked to a Doctor about what my problems were hoping maybe they would tell me I was okay and could move on but instead I got a fat �LIAR� stamped on my forehead and tossed out of the facility. The second time I was there I blacked out lit the curtains on fire and escaped through the ventilation shaft with this other kid. But I don�t remember his name, let alone do I remember doing this. It wouldn�t matter anyways. So I went to Juvi for a while. Had a few blackouts in there but nothing serious enough to talk about. Anyways I dropped out of school and went back home to Michigan. I moved in with what was my girl at the time. But her dad didn�t know I lived there. There was an old lady who sat day after day on this recliner in the front room. I finally asked girl if that was her grandma. She looked at me like I was crazy. So I dropped it. I hate bringing things up because I hate that look. That look you would be giving me now. The one that says �okay� in a �you�re a lunatic� sort of way. A couple days later the old lady in the front room told me I needed to leave the house and not come back. It was a little weird but dually noted. We pulled into the driveway that night and I look off to my right and see a girl hanging by a noose in her garage. I step out of the car and turn towards the house and see fourteen or fifteen people standing around with pitchforks and ghastly torches. I ran inside. The old lady looked up at me and said �I told you to leave� I went upstairs to girl�s room with girl and sit down. Her speakers turn on �.really fucking loud static. She got up to turn it off but they weren�t plugged in. I blacked out. All I could see was this man. Remember the man I told you about in my head earlier? The one that scares me? I do. Well anyways this is the same man. I think. I get confused. I was lying on this table top looking up at this man long dreaded black hair grim pale face. I tried to move but couldn�t I was strapped down. He raised his knife blade above me and stabbed me in the chest. I woke up from my black out and girl was in a corner staring at me almost ghost-like. I asked what happened. She said that I had just started yelling no and my chest started bleeding. My chest started bleeding. On its own. It scared the shit out of both of us. We went and got in her truck and decided to drive to Chicago. A boy on the porch waved as we left. We looked up the history of the house and it was a KKK town a long time ago. And I guess when her dad moved into the house he found a lot of hidden rooms by breaking down walls and there was where some man slaughtered many people the way I had seen in my back out. Coincidence. A weird one. Anyways. My point in telling you about these black outs are to get you to understand my problem. I am an intelligent individual who deals with a very intense problem. As I said earlier you can�t just ignore them. You don�t fucking know what �them� is the real �them� And the paranoia you can�t ignore either. So telling a person that has similar issues will just fuck them up worse. Making me think I can control it makes me feel like I should be able to and it is my fault that I can�t. Well it�s not my fault it is a chemical imbalance in my brain and last time I checked I wasn�t in charge of that department. I was put on many psychiatric drugs to make the problems minimal. But being that I am homeless lack health insurance and just plain don�t like the fucked up sedation feeling of those drugs. It�s like all doctors do are try to put you to sleep. �Oh well your fucked up in the brain and shouldn�t have contact with people. For you are harmful to yourself and others. So we will just sedate you enough to where you are unable to do ANYTHInG.� Fuck that. Okay moving on. I am just sick of the people in my head that talk to me wishing that I were dead.

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