There's Something Wrong With ME!!!!

“Hello Mark,  I would like to talk about my mental break today,” I say to my patient and caring therapist.  He’s the first therapist to truly get me and after six years of searching, I found a match.  Still, it was early in our relationship. I had hinted at my mental break but had not gone into detail just yet.  Today was the day.  “Sounds good,” he responded. 

Besides my God, my sister was my rock during this ordeal.  Everything fell into place so well it makes me question if someone else was involved.   After the summer of me terrorizing my poor mother, I was ready to move to campus, because as I said earlier I was at the tail end of my doctoral program. My sister was up for a fresh start and this would be the first time we really got to know each other. There’s about a decade between us and when she was coming into her own I was out of the house.  We both were excited about some sisterly bonding, neither one of us knew what was in store. 

The drive down there was a dream.  I followed her the whole way and we stopped occasionally.  She had a trailer on her car and I just had my car stuffed to the brim.  The voices were there but I was so happy, they didn’t bother me as much. I saw them as one-sided conversations because if I talked back THEN I was REALLY crazy.  My sister wasn’t used to such a long drive (three hours) and she called frequently. 

We finally made it to our destination.   I was renting a quiet two-bedroom duplex.  My sister let me have the big room. There was enough room for my dog, the voices, and I.  My crazy takes up space y’all. A friend who was in New Orleans for the summer as well met us and dropped off some of the things she drove back for me.   We unpacked but I was missing some key items.  Let’s see, I didn’t have a bed and my dining room set was still in storage.  Thankfully my sister had a bed.  For the first week or so we camped in the living room with my sister, my pup, and me.  The internet technician arrived within twenty minutes of arrival.  With that, we had internet, Roku, and each other.  Now if only I could get my mind right. I had not told anyone about the voices yet because I was still coming to terms with it.  Looking back, I should have given my sister the choice to take on that burden or not. 

The first few weeks went great. The voices quieted and I thought I was cured. I started a new well paying job, had a fellowship, met with my advisor, got a new committee member, and was ordering Grubhub from the most delicious restaurants with my sister.  I kept thinking to myself, I knew it was temporary. It’s over.  I was happy...too happy. Not sleeping, anxious. Things went downhill quick.  

I was an advisor for undergrads and meetings were difficult. Voices blurred together. I had to focus so hard I got migraines. In between meetings I wore headphones to drown out the voices. I started to develop a technique. For example, I did reality checks. If something didn’t fit the context or make logical sense I ignored it as a hallucination.  It didn’t always work.  I would often ignore when my supervisor called my name because one of the voices sounded exactly like him.  We had a messaging system at work so if it really was him, he would send a message, but he would send an agitated message at that. As I became sicker, the reality checks saved me. 

In my car, I sat there thinking about the day.  All I could hear was my phone ringing. My phone was in my hand not ringing, but I heard ringing. It wouldn’t stop.  This wasn’t as bad as the voice but it was the straw that broke the camel's back.  Tears streamed down my face and I began the sob.  “THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME!” 

 “I think this is a good place to stop,” Mark said concerned