I went on a nice, first outing with the District Training Manager. It wasn't necessarily a date. We didn't kiss at the end. This was almost 2 weeks ago. He hasn't made plans with me to go again, although we have talked since.

WE had drinks and appetizers.

One of my voices was mad at me for going and didn't speak to me for a day because of it. Explain that. I can't. Part of the show, I guess.

The bar was upscale, and I went in a nice shirt and jeans. A lot of women were in dresses. Along with worried about the voices, I felt horribly out of place there. I wanted a drink so bad. But I didn't. I wasn't going to risk it, seeing the white shining, blinding, alien light that the voices promised me when they snap your mind into two as they take control. Alcohol is loss of control.

He probably thinks I'm a super sober.

I'm a super sober, like all of them, with cravings for alcohol. 9. WE only get that way, one way.

I could hear the voices occasionally making comments at him. "She's a great dancer," one said. That was a bit out of line. I'm great at nothing, especially dancing. I'm an okay dancer.

The voices want me home alone, talking to no one, all to themselves for some reason, locked into a fantasy world that only includes them.

It's a strange disease . At the center of it is fear of people and the unknown. Grandiose ideas to protect the subject or the center, the victim is more like it, me, from others. Almost all people in my life. ONly a few escaped the targeting.

How to look outside the madness? Moments did exist. But they were surprising few and far between.