What did I really need those early days of onset? d Help!? Family members and friends said.

A 5150 to practically force me to take an antipsychotic or two?

I was too clever and too delusional for that.

Now, I'm throwing myself to the wills of more doctors at Stanford, hoping that they can clear up the last of the voices, just one, who threatens daily to kill me. 4.

"You know how this game is played. Eventually you are going to lose your life to suicide." d He says. d

I hate the gaping wound that has been left in regards to MOrpheus and me.

I miss all things MOrpheus, including his faux-voice in my brain.

nO.

I already packed my bag for STanford. a.

Since the voices have not slowed down since I started the new medications (the "bad" voice I should say), I'm going back into the hospital.

ON Tuesday.

NO. ad I don't want to die, but i want better for myself . no9. a.

For the first time in a long time, I got rejected by someone, the Training Manager. a. 9. 4. For whatever reason. d. 9o.

There's only one voice left, we know him as "The General." a. 9. He comes on only occasionally. ad.

He is the one who is threatening me. no9.

Sometimes I'm only amazed by how bad it's become. No job, no internship, hearing voices as a psychotic symptom, etc.

This morning I mourn my life.

It swallows me into depression.

Maybe I was only feeling guilty about finally feeling guilty about my last job, or about sending the Facebook Message or god knows what else that I needed to feel guilty about but heavily relied on my ego to shield me from. I chose a different path in life.

I can't make the memories go away of some homeless guy at STarbucks taking either pictures of me or video while I wait to meet the General (the guy later to be given such a nickname). d. Or the fact that when I met him, he had a bad lie. Yellow Page Ad's? He was sitting in the wrong county for his work, and he gave no explanation as to why he was there. These things by themselves mean absolutely nothing, but to the inflated, psychotic mind, they mean fantasy after fantasy.

I suggest to my therapist that I meet him finally to settle the delusion once and for all. She actually suggested against it.

I could disrobe the mighty king of his powers, get him literally out of my head if I saw he was just a guy.

She asked not to because I might have sensed something wrong with him to begin with hence why he is the sinister, arch-enemy now. The voices could only be over-inflated good instinct.

I think he was just a guy plotted down the wrong place at the wrong time--just a guy at STarbucks. a. 999. A little shy but nothing more.

I got frustrated over the family/social worker meeting held with Case Manager.

No one believes me when I say I haven't heard voices before August 10, 2011.

The Case Manager interviewed my father trying to see if I might have been lying about that. Nope. 9. x. d.

"It's just a game," I said to the guy I picked up at the bar.

"You're a delusional girl," he called me at one point.

"To tell who works for the government, you see..." I said.4. "It's not real." I continued. I was staring at the street, he was looking at me. 9. "What about that guy?" I read about the make and the model of the vehicle. My companion is not playing. He is too fixated on me, and getting me to make out with him.

We had discussed "Jack."

"I bet you almost wish I was Jack," he said at one point.

The voices exhaust me. Are they going to appear? ARe they there? ARe they just hiding? WAiting for the right moment to attack? a. x. 4.

I have to tip-toe around in my own mind to avoid their punishment.

I went to see Lucky at his friend's place. He was surprisingly understanding about my "bipolar illness" (I didn't bother to correct him), and my recent hospitalization. Things have changed between us, but it has taken years. He seems more mature. I want less. It is the perfect coupling.

I know what it's like to be a prisoner of your own mind, to be terrorized by the outside world, and to seek safety anywhere.

One of my more readily pulled to memory regrets was how I handled going to the FBI. d I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea if I was going to even see someone. I assumed incorrectly they would just take the computer and look at it. No. They didn't.

I wasted that money for nothing to be told it was all a mental illness issue. And now I have to fight that on my own with more money. a.

One thing that keeps bothering me is the fact that I blacked out when Morpheus left last time we saw each other. I'm missing some time. The voices make good use of that too in my brain when they taunt me.

I don't know if it was the stress combo with the two shots of Grey Goose or what. x.

What happened to the fearless girl I once was? Swallowed up by the paranoia and the psychosis? d

Ran out of breath by her stupid theories and her senseless attacks. 4. It should have been saved for better uses. A better time when we are all called to be brave. o. And mighty in the face of real trouble. REal adversity.

Will I love him too much forever? I ask no one. Is it a burden to carry forever? a. Do I not know what time is like? Haven't I carry on enough?



WHY should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery,

"nO Second Troy"

by Yeats, W.B.

I wonder if it will ever that fearlessness back that I had--the girl who would board a plane to go to Cornell and face those odds--or if I will always be the girl who didn't go and now hates to leave the house because of the voices. a. Is that girl gone forever?

I hope not.

I don't even enjoy music while driving. I drive with it turned off now. d. That's how numbed I am to the world around me for gladness. a. 4.

Consulting the hacked NO is like staring into a magic eight ball for advice.

Does a proposal during psychosis count?

NO.

When you feel like you're never going to find another person, what are you supposed to do? d

I have no idea why in the mist of the worst of my psychosis, I told MOrpheus I wanted to get married. He can't, obviously, he is married. He can say, no, that's it. Did I want him to say no?

NO. I wanted him to say, later, or maybe, Or we have a future here that includes marriage at some point.

Most of my friends, don't get that. OR some of my family. No. 9.

I feel little emotion bumbling throughout the day. ad. How can I make lasting decisions? Since thought propel emotion and thoughts propel writing?

What has happens to my wealth of thoughts? Which have been cut down by drugs?

I only complain so much because I know it is a process to get rid of the voices. No. 9. e.

"WE breakfasted." ONe of my favorite lines from Virginia Woolf. a.

The Case Manager will re-evaluate me for hospitalization on Tuesday if the voices have gone away completely. d.

Now there are only so many drugs to try. I would like to be at Stanford to try the riskier ones with bigger side effects. No. 9.

There was a meeting held at county to see if I needed a hospitalization again. My dad was there, my new therapist was there, and so was the Case Manager. No9. 4.

IN the end, we decided against it and just doubling the dose of my new medication.

The Social Worker who is my therapist has never heard of the 'd' being a psychiatric symptom. I finally told her about it in therapy yesterday. d. 4. It is completely involuntary when it happens. No. 999.

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.

I think about going to the FBI in the Federal Building in LA. Being told that no crimes were committed, it was all "mental illness." If I don't pursue my hacking problems now, I will be left with nothing done ever about it. I have two choices, I can go back to the FBI after the computer is analyzed, or I can file a report with the INspector General's office. 9. IN D.C. 9.

One of the decisions I've been working on making is the decision whether or not I will ever have children.

After this most recent episode, I decided I can never risk going off of my meds completely to carry.

It is a sad decision.

nO.

One thing about psychosis, I was never lonely, if only because I was talking to myself, I felt like I had all the attention in the world, being followed, monitored, etc.

In shock and in fear, I called my therapist today to ask her to meet me on emergency.

I'm tired of listening to the voices. The novelty has worn off.

I already made plans to meet with the Case Manager to increase my dose of antipsychotic again. 4. 9.

The hearing of the voices wears you down after a while.

AT the worst, you end up immobilized like I was one day at the hospital. IN lesser forms, you are just too pained to do much with your life. 90. 9.

The only explanation I can come up with for the 'd' and etc. is the fact that I am doing it and not realizing it consciously.

I don't know who moved the cell phone, but it moved in the front console of my Mercedes a few months ago. No one was touching it. I was the only one there.

I think about this a lot lately. 9. ON the scale of weird shit that has happened since February, this ranks high.

IF I concentrate deeply on trying to move the cell phone, the voices disappear. 9.

More weird coincidences make me think about the Switchboard Concept. 9. x. The man in the BMW motioning to me through the glass as he was driving through an intersection while "RAndy" was saying, "I'm going to give you such a pinch." x. 9. Hearing Lucky's voice change over the phone once. Late at night. 9. 9. Distorted. x. Not like bad reception.

Weird things happened to me that I cannot explain. Things are now more normal, but still not there despite the drugs. I have the 'd' still. I have the other forms of hacking. no 09. 4.

I'm struggling with my remaining paranoia about a particular friend, who after I get done talking to her the voices attack me for doing so.

"Schizo" literally means "split." I am split into pieces of myself. Sometimes myself types weird things like "9" and "d," etc. Sometimes myself turns into voices against the larger self, "you." It is about a loss of control over myself as a whole.

"I feel like I'm breaking inside."

--Shinedown, "Breaking INside"

The Subject Of

In defense of one area of my life brings me a lot of isolation. a. That would be the subject of MOrpheus. 999.

Talking about him upsets other people, which in turns upsets me. d. There's no one to go to talk this out with.

I was delusional and psychotic, feeling like I was in contact with him every day, when he was so far away. 9.

My fractured mind struggling to keep up.

Soldier On Each DAy

I feel so empty inside, of emotion. I do not react to news the way I should.

I'm afraid to write because of the hacking, perceived or real. I can't even tell.

I just soldier on each day. Hoping for better. The next day.

The fight with Morpheus was a trigger in my psyche for something bad.

Then what followed were psychotic symptoms.

IT was a combination of factors, he was a part of it.

The therapist asked me if I felt separated from my feelings.

IF I could feel them.

She said it was partially due to the medication.

You have to in order to write.

Sometimes I think that's it, it's all over, I'll never see Morpheus again. WE're done. There's levels of denial in heartache.

I don't want--what I had--back. The sporadic sex. Is that all there is?

All day long, writing to myself. NO.

I had some benign neurological symptom, and I think it's other people communicating with me.

No .

Last Message

AS per his last request, I lost all his working numbers. I now cannot contact Morpheus. 9. o.oo.

It sent me into a panic initially. x. 4. But in due time, he will get ahold of me, or he won't.

My last message to him was biting. HE never received my apology. NO. x.

Because I sent it to a disconnected cell phone. NO. i. oo. x.

I'm sad for that. x.

I filed out my FAFSA for school as I intend to apply for online University of Phoenix.

The voices are telling me they will have me hanging in two weeks.

It makes me sad. I can block the voices, but it takes time. 9. Meanwhile, I listen to it, and feel momentarily mildly suicidal because of their intensity.

Will the voices ever go away completely?

I am Jack's blue and black heart of bruised stolen love. No. 9.

[reference: Fight Club]

I am Jack's deep blue sea of sorrow. d

"Someone who very much wants to be in control," the new therapist said that about me, concerning why I was willing to take antipsychotics to lessen the inner noise even with side effects

I realized right when I thought I might be having a psychotic break. I called the Case Manager outside of the STarbucks in Santa Maria.

HE told me the paranoia was from Borderline Personality disorder or from PTSD. d.

It was still winter then. Earlier this year.

I was hysterical.

It was late February.

Clutches of More Insanity d

Driving the truck to Wal-Mart, it finally happened . I finally believed one of the voices, a visceral action.

We had a talk.

That "feeling" is fleeting on a drug like Zyprexa, which makes you apathetic.

Some would say I was saved from the clutches of more insanity, others would say it was just a realization of sorts.

for me, more "i don't know's."

for me, more mysteries. x. 9.

Sometimes I wonder if the voices are the price I paid for being lonely. No9. d

...and I can’t do anything to stop him...

--A sentence I typed from a voice as dictated simultaneously, proving that it was me, not "real from the outside." 4.

The Road Gets Rockier 4

I had a visual hallucination today. Of my father walking through the hallway.

Snapshot into Psychosis. x.

"The difference doesn't matter anymore. "One of the voices says. d

This was in reference to whether or not I am driven to suicide or "decide" to do it on my own. No d4.

"I want to you die, Lacey, I want you to hang." No y.

"Eventually, i will convince you it was your idea all along. " 4.

"He can't do it, Lace" one of the other voices says. d9. "You've beat him one too many times. " No.9. d4.

What is my truth?

Hiding in my bedroom. d.9. Afraid of the whole world now that the paranoia and anger [d] left me.

A --Hope 9

"I want you to not give up hope that you will find the truth."

ONe of the voices. a.

What Did I Mean By It?

I wrestle with myself every day over the FAcebook Message. What did I mean by? Did I mean it?

Truth be told. I don't know. noy. I don't know my own brain anymore. The Madame had the best advice in the world, and I don't know if I can stick to that either. No .yyyy. 9. 43. [no sex until divorce]

I walk around in a fog of confusion. Laden with guilt some moment, freed other moments.

Proud in some because at last, I took action.

Sometimes I see myself as someone who is just going through mourning. nO yyy. 4. This will pass away if I accept the pain and go into it, over it, through it. Just survive it. d. AS if it was a giant storm, me caught in it, unable to influence it one way or the other. d. 9.

Even in Folly 9.

A friend of mine shared the news with me recently: she is getting married to her long time boyfriend.

No one knows I asked mOrpheus to marry me over the phone. Or how I actually mean it. Here: a promise for later. Keep it.

Just not for now.

On the ridiculous scale, I guess it counts. d. 9. But just not to me. x. i. lo8.

I figure: I'm doing it all. The added "d."

Some stuff you can't take with seriousness when mentally ill. d. ex.

But some you stand behind. Some messages you mean. d. Even in folly.

The Hanging in the Garage 4

"Are you staying away from the garage?" My new therapist said during our session in response to my note that the voices seem to be fixated on me killing myself there.

Cheater

You really cheated death a third time.

No Y

From the voice. d d

And the hacked NO.

I'll admit something: it felt like it. d

The problem was: my position changed. I thought what could be worse than having him leave.

this.

He is not the cause of all of this. But I am. 4.9. This is us done. dx. Leaving for the last time. x.

Maybe there will come a day when I can say, "I was ill, and I did that," and I will write about it, and I won't be ashamed anymore. a.

That day just isn't todya.

I couldn't make it to another therapy appointment today, wondering how to go through with talking to a stranger about my "problems." d I feel like an amateur. d

I answered her phone call afterwards, and got caught re-scheduling.

The truth is somewhat silly and typical: I'm just afraid of her responses when I drag out my stories. d

AGitated, sitting in front of a marked building which said: Community counseling center, I felt ashamed. I was named. I bolted down the street, for a walk, I told myself since I had time to burn because I had arrived early. Really, I never went back. The classic struggle of anyone who has mental illness. ME? I'm supposed to be above all of that. I'm not [y]. Yet or yes, take your pick. d.

I never measured up to success as our society measures success. ad. 4. Sitting in my chair, doped up on Zyprexa, blanket with the dog at my feet, I am not a giant measure of success. NO.

When I was eighteen years old, my first therapist asked me what I wanted, I told her, nothing.

Perhaps my problem in life was always that: I wanted nothing from life but to write, which is almost free. d4. It is under threat because of the hacking, but I have managed.

I have other dreams but they are not as powerful, and their successes can be reached in other ways.

"Optimistic People Rise in This World."

In his forthcoming book, “Thinking, Fast and Slow” (I’ll write more about it in a couple of weeks), Kahneman calls this the planning fallacy. Most people overrate their own abilities and exaggerate their capacity to shape the future. That’s fine. Optimistic people rise in this world. The problem comes when these optimists don’t look at themselves objectively from the outside.

--David Brooks and The Planning Fallacy

“Meyer’s performance,” Mr. West wrote, “was the greatest act of courage in the war, because he repeated it, and repeated it, and repeated it."

“Dakota later confessed,” the president said, of the fighting in Ganjigal, that “I didn’t think I was going to die. I knew I was.”

--Dakota Meyer, Ex-Marine is Awarded

Simultaneously

"As adults, we need not only to be understood and cared about, but to have another individual simultaneously experience a state of mind similar to our own."

--pg. 22 of The Developing Mind by Daniel J. Siegel, MD

Once my blog was hacked into, I thought that everyone I knew personally was reading it. The whole world essentially. From there, the paranoia ran rampant.

FAcebook has been hacked. IT sends friend invites to people I don't know. So far, no one has accepted. d.

All of them from STanford. x.

I underestimated how deep of a wound it would cut to lose Morpheus.

For I went insane.

Outward Isolation: Back to the Beginning

If I go back to the beginning, I can remember traces of reality, but I cannot recall how I became psychotic.

Was "Panther" really that important to me? Was it the break up with Morpheus? Was it the loss of the idea of going to D.C.? Was it the drinking and the lack of sleep? Was it all of the above?

Was it the homelessness?

Why did I turn my life into a hunt of Jack, a man who remains anon? He probably had nothing to do with my psychosis; and yet, I looked for him every day.

Everywhere.

After Morpheus, I was bound and determine to fill an empty spot in my heart.

I never did.

I got this instead. Nothing but inner chaos. d. OUtward isolation.

Death of the "Panther"

While I was deleting entries online and storing away "Panther" into my computer, I noticed a stats counter on it that I did not add myself (and had not been there the last time I logged on), when I clicked on it, it disappeared. Someone else added it him/herself.

This was traumatizing to me. "Panther" was my most prized possession.

Someone walked all over it.

And wanted me to know about it.

What Gift is Health?

Getting better means the realization of what I have done in the past while being ill.

It means being aware of the hurtful things I did while sabotaging my life. x. What gift is health?

Breaking Through

I am trying to break through all of my delusions, if that may include the "frog legs," perhaps that too is a delusion as I cannot verify who or what is causing it. All I remember is that in the beginning the 'd' felt like a mild shock. NO. YSE 9.

What hope is left for me? x. 4.

I feel more hopeless today, knowing the struggles that lay ahead. x.

I can't enjoy anything, I can't cry over anything, I can't laugh about anything, the drugs have me apathetic. d. 4.

I'm trapped in a lifeless suite of a "me." x4.

The Case Manager offered hospitalized. I turned it down. x. 9.

Today no one could tell me, "Voices, be gone. "d

I love only a few things in this life. Writing, my mom and Morpheus. I am currently failing at both.

I am failing at the ability to tell reality from corruption of the truth. x. 4x.

My vision is distorted by chaos. My life is disturbed.

I feel thrown every day, every waking hour. x.

Searching and Never Found: Jack

Despite all of my searching and my psychotic twists-n-turns, I never found what I was looking for. Jack. One man on planet EArth. x. I searched franatically, looking into faces of every random guy on trains, bars, weird places I met men. NO Jack. x.

No. 9.

Who was Jack? And why was he so important even now? I don't know .

The Reasons

Some days, I can't see the reasons for this blog. My writing use to be a lot better. The medications and psychotic symptoms are making it worse .

I leave it up as a testimony to what a person goes through when experiencing psychotic symptoms and hacking. d. What it's like to lose privacy and/or lose your mind. Lose love. d. And try to gain it back through the only way possible: imagination or psychosis. Creativity. d. Morpheus left. I communicate with him sometimes. But the voices is my head is not him. "Lacey, for god's sakes, I am real," the male voices says.

On and on we fight.

I'm afraid of losing my mind; I'm afraid of being terrorized into suicide.

No.

I don't believe in myself anymore because of this shit that has happened to me over the course of the past nine months. I have to be told what is real or not. I have to be on medications that will later help my brain determine what is real or not. Right now, it is a lonely walk. a. 4. x.

I miss the once-confidence I had in my abilities to rationalize out a picture or a problem. x. I miss the free flowing thoughts that went into writing that have stalled out at the front of my mind, who stiff legged refuse to budge--now I must prod and poke and tease out.

I miss free association and mischief for the sake of stirring up trouble without fearing--god--am I "delusional" for thinking such? d

I have to let it all go, however long that takes. Months. Years.

That is the only way I can get through this. No. y. x.0.

Case on the Fourth Amendment

Two federal appellate courts have upheld the use of GPS devices without warrants in similar cases, on the grounds that we have no expectation of privacy when we are in public places and that tracking technology merely makes public surveillance easier and more effective.

But in a visionary opinion in August 2010, Judge Douglas H. Ginsburg, of the United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit, disagreed. No reasonable person, he argued, expects that his public movements will be tracked 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and therefore we do have an expectation of privacy in the “whole” of our public movements.

--Protect Our Right to Anonymity...

Torment, A sTory

I weight the equation of getting drunk versus the negatives of mixing it with the medications and the hang over and the social consequences. I still want to drink, but I don't. I was told by the voices that this is not "torment."

IT all feels like torment today. Being awake is torment. Living is torment.

ON the Beck inventory, I'm a 38 for depression. That's high, but there's room to grow. Alcohol makes depression worse, psychosis worse.

I have a distinct craving for alcohol. It could grow into alcoholism someday.

Someday seems far away.

I was more afraid of morphine. Deathly afraid of turning into a junkie. I never abused it while I was prescribed it.

The therapist I just fired she said to me clearly, you don't want alcohol, you want to be put out of your pain.

I was drunk in her office once when she said that to me.

I feel the same today.

Drinking: A Torment Story

The only thing I want in life is a drink, which I can't have.
No 9o.

[reference: DRinking: A Love sTory by Knapp]

Early ON-set of Depression

I will live an ordinary life which amounts to nothing because life stole its grandeur from me with the early on-set of depression.

Yet Thoreau wrote that “the cost of a thing is the amount
of . . . life which is required to be exchanged for it.”10

--Model Penal Code TD No 2 - Online version.pdf, The American Law Institute, pg. xxi

The MIsuse of Life Without Parole

The Supreme Court ruled last year that it is cruel and unusual punishment to sentence a juvenile to life without parole when the crime is short of homicide. In the majority opinion, Justice Anthony Kennedy noted that life without parole shares “some characteristics with death sentences that are shared by no other sentences” in altering “the offender’s life by a forfeiture that is irrevocable.”

--The Misuse of LIfe without Parole

Sometimes when I'm at the keyboard, I am sharply, distinctly right handed. d It is such a phenomenon.

x

x

ONe of the earliest examples of hacking is easiest. On my Verizon Wireless bill, my home number was added to 760-446-6969.

I never did that. x. Previously, no number was there. x. d. I tried explaining this to DR. Pait, and he dismissed me, and labeled me "delusional" at the time. d. Because of how the hacking was affecting my relationships.

I was going mad with paranoia. The diagnosis was wrong, but then again, it was all wrong. x.

Apparently, I learned quickly how to defend myself in there, my mind, with the invention of an anon. At first, this idea was ridiculed, but now, no more calling me "stupid bitch." The idea worked because I have seen or witnessed "DAD" shut down the bad voice. d.

4. x. x. 0.

x
Do you believe I'm real?

Is the question.

No. 9o. d

Then DAD comes out and puts an end to it. When things are too loud or mean or bumpy. 999999

When I was younger, I was strange and teased a lot, and there was an anon living in my head named Carol, who was the leader of a group of "anon's" in my mind. They teased me periodically or some of them [stupid.] stood up for me. This situation reminds me of similar.

NO. yyyyyy. o. o.

"None of us think it's stupid now," one of the voices says. No. i9999.

Carol was the most vicious. x. Of the voices d, if you want to call them that. d. They were just characters of my internal dialogue.

No. yyyyy.

oooooooo.

"Eventually you will be able to push me all the way out all the time."

nO. 99999

"But you are not there yet. "

9999

One of the voices says.

we can still beat them at their own game, DAD says

I was told it was extremely difficult to block out one voice while talking to another, but I have done it for a shorrt period. d

9999

Blocking out repetitive messages. x.

About suicide.

x.

No Matter What

"Remember no matter what I love you, Lace"

One of the voices says.

Today has been exhausting already. 4. Death threats from the voices, who admit that they can't win because of the anon I created called "DAD." No. 9999. d.

Is it just a story played out in my brain? When the real threat is not that but a disease called schizoaffective disorder?

If you ask DAd, he just says that they're nothing more voices with no connection to the outside world. 9. x.

It all proves one thing: I was far more ill than I originally figured. NO.

That is what is now scaring me the most. If I created one anon, "DAD" to battle off with "NoRA" then how many others did I create? NO. d. 9.

Did I create all of them? No d.

Did I hack the NO? No. d

Did I see behind the curtain for just a few minutes? And what did I discover? d

But going up on the medication seems not to be effective. The voices rage on anyway. d Leaving me unprotected.

It's hard to listen to the voice who wants me to commit suicide (hanging in the garage, to be specific), and to be mildly suicidal anyway because quality of life has decreased lately. d. What can be my response?

No. [NO] I won't. I will hang in there, so to speak. d.

Hannibal Again

Being compared to a homeless person, Sonya, that my grandma knows, who drives her around when she needs to go to the doctor, etc, only brought on my worst fears of how I might end up. Talking to myself, living with cats, etc. d

The fact that my grandmother even dreamed of making the comparison hurt me deeply. d.

We haven't talked since. No. 9.

Rationally, I know that I have a decent prognosis, but hearing voices, who only insist time after time that they are real? d. And worse yet, insist that I have psychic abilities?

What is the truth?

I have seen weird shit since the beginning of all this, including but not limited to the moving of the cell phone. d. What are the limitations of the human mind?

Or will I just end up on the street talking to myself anyway?

NO. 9.

It seems like today, I lost everything to mental illness, and it makes me unbearably sad. d

"You won the war, Lacey," the General says. c. "...you want to think everything is a psychiatric illness so you can hide."

"YOu were going to start doubting everything." The General says.

There's no proof of the hacking yet.

Testing d

I was much more careful, watching my hands as I typed, and yes, someone(s) is hacking the NO. The question is who? More the why.

"Comodohacker, as he calls himself, insists he acted on his own and is unperturbed by the notion that his work may have been used to spy on antigovernment compatriots."

--Hacker Battles Internet Security

A Failure of Happiness x

And then a few months ago, his mother called. She said her son had taught his last class of the semester, cashed his paycheck and padlocked himself in a hotel room with an ample supply of crack, heroin and alcohol. An autopsy confirmed he died of an overdose.

As he explained in a journal his mother later shared, my friend went looking for happiness in a dark place. “Cocaine reconnected my mind to my body, and I felt tremendously alive, hypersexual and hopeful once again,” he wrote. “At least I had a new God to believe in, even if I knew all along this was a false God, a deceitful God, one who always promised misery and defeat. So, I choose this God of intense extremes over the monotony of everyday life.”

--A FAilure d of Happiness

An INtense Life

"An intense life, for instance, can be lived with abandon. One might move from engagement to engagement, or stick with a single engagement, but always (well, often) by diving into it, holding nothing back. One throws oneself into swimming or poetry or community organizing or fundraising, or perhaps all of them at one time or another. Such a life is likely a meaningful one. And this is true even where it might not be an entirely moral one."

--The Meaningfulness of Lives

The Delusional Process

This has stripped away the belief in oneself. The delusional process I mocked it.

IN relationships with other people, with yourself, with the world around you. 9. You are teetering on obliteration of self.

They Didn't? Hack the NO

I'm considering that the NO is not hacked, but me just doing it to myself after all these months.
NO. And that I am that mentally ill that I couldn't tell the difference. d. I have no explanation therefore of the "d."

DAD is left handed like me because of course, he is my creation. However, sometimes when I'm at the computer, I feel like I'm right handed. I have no idea why. NO. 9.

No 9iiii. no 9999.

The only possible explain--is--right now I don't have one. NO. i. lol. ooooooo.

x.

I must have come "close to death" five times while in the hospital with the voices chattering away at me, taunting. IT was always my fault that someone else died or they hated me for some reason. It made for a bad TV movie. Me. Dying. Blamed. Listening to a small group of people criticizing me at my last moments on earth.

I would sit there or lay there with my head either dropped or my eyes closed waiting for darkness to take over, as sure as the sun sets, that I was going to another world--blackness was going to hit.

It never did.

The voices lied. x.

Questioning the NO

I'm wondering now how much of the hacking I am doing to myself. EArlier examples of the hacking were easier to determine than now. They were more obvious. Since I have been so ill psychologically, it is only natural to question these things.

What is the 'd'? And how does it work? What is the hacked NO? Why does it work?

Is it worthwhile to take a report all the way to D.C.? No.

All of this has caused me to dive down into portions of me that I never have before, hence creating the anon in my brain called "Dad." No c. 4. Hence arguing with myself if I even created now the hacking. NO. d. x. I'm too mild to fight off "voices," but at the core is a mean bitch, and so I turn her into a man, older and stronger. x. Am I only fighting with myself, and for my sanity? I don't know. And how long will the war wage? x. ON and on. x. 34. c.

The mind flips scare me.

But I hate my life for other reasons.

On certain days, I fear me. cx. I fear that I am alone in this.

ON the front of the New York Times Todaydx

“There are no words to ease the pain that you still feel.” — Leon E. Panetta

"America has clearly stated on many occasions that it is not in the business of nation building. This is in accord with its culture of tolerance that it continues to pursue. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are tenets of America's social contract among its citizens. America is in these wars because its enemies have no interest in these ideals; moreover her enemies seek to destroy them and she must defend herself of those who want to violate that contract."

--Commenter On And Hate Begat Hate, Vince Dayton

EVeryone wishes to have freedoms, even our enemies.

I did not drink last night, which was my major accomplishment. x. even though I was sitting in a bar for a few hours. x. even though I really had a craving for one. Yes x. 3. x. e.

And Hate Begat Hate

"Famine, hunger, poverty and economic failure have increased beyond measure, at least in this corner of the world, where the Sept. 11 plans were hatched, while climate change has set off enormous floods and drought brings untold misery to millions in unexpected places. The latter is not the fault of Sept. 11, but in the minds of many the catastrophes we face stem from America’s wars and the diversion of America’s attention from truly universal problems. In this, America, too, is a victim of its wars and the global changes it has not addressed."

--AFter 9/11, Hate Begat Hate x

I don't even remember what it's like to have you inside of me. c.

All in a past life. x. c.

Sometimes I fear the only thing that makes me special is my illness.

What is psychosis if you can't believe you talk to God? OR if you are not talking to other psychics? c. 4. x.

I have no special abilities. c. "Yet," one of the voices says. "WE can teach you.' No. 8. i. 4. c.

No. c.

I say, NO> 4.

All the hints about "dad":

Now, I know why. c.

Late one night, I got a clue from Mac Word Grammar Check:

It's "all true" was underline.

I think about that sometimes. c.

When the latest attack from one of the voices came around, I was upset enough I or the DAD anon stopped it.

NO. YSe 9c.

I could feel it. It is hard to describe. x. d . Left hand. 9.

"DAd just quiets him down for ya," one of the voices says.
nO. 9.

Something very strange is going on with my brain. I typed out "daad" without thinking while the latest attack came from the bad voice came around. 4. x.

I created the anon "DAD," who is fighting with the bad "voice," with and without my conscious knowledge because as I've been told by other good voice I am dissociating. 4. x.

Did I hurt people with my writing?

nO.

I didn't intend to. NOthing more can be said now.

"Don't bring up the ouch." Once I wrote.

IT was another "typo."

I meant to write "couch."

When your mind creates another anon to attack the "voices," you pay attention. l. He's doing the dirty work, and comes at the worst of times. He is the me I cannot be because I'm bound up being too polite. d He doesn't care because to him, they're not real. No real feelings. No real consequences up here in the brain--except he can get rid of them. No. d.

There's some mysterious quality to all of this that I cannot place nor name. The fact that one of the patients wrote down on a scrap paper both my name and my mother's name and then gave it to me while I was hospitalized. d. I had two wrist bands.

AS if someone out there was looking out for me? OR as if someone out there was wanting to harm me. Or both.

I still can't tell. d.

I can stop the voices for short periods of time.

I'm so out of sync with my own internal dialogue that I say things in my mind that I don't know where it comes from, hence I--myself--created "DAD," who claims in my head that he is NOT real, and that the others are NOT real, and that he is protecting me from the rest of them. This is how spooky shit is.

NO.

DAD says, "They are just voices in your brain."

This blog has helped me through the hardest months of my life. d. If you know my real name, you can find it . I debate leaving it up for that reason. d. I decided to fuck it. d I will take the risks again with writing.

There feels to be no victory because of fear. Of the "bad voice" returning.

Trouble is where to start when you're in the middle. No.

Everything exhausts me. I spent the day running around from cafe to cafe, doing nothing but thinking, mostly to myself and my "visitors," the voices or "commanding thoughts" (reference: The Center CAnnot HOld). I went for a walking at the park, hoping for help, but the voices went with me. They were thick and strong there. Changing personas, ideas flying around as I huff with anxiety. I am unable, ripped from being able to do the smallest of things--but I fight that mentality. OR do I fall into it/

I fired a therapist, which I will probably end up going back to because I am left with few choices. No. Over a statement she doesn't remember making. d. She hurt me, and doesn't recall ever saying it. Not a little hurt mind you, but a big one. d.

Picture of Hannibal

When I"m on the chair doing my writing, he is almost always there. This is Hannibal. d

More of my rights are being taken away. My car is being sold because I cannot afford to fix it, and my government money (disability) is probably going to a payee soon. I accept this without any emotion.

I have larger problems looming. The voices. INability to work or to read or to write like I use to.

I am isolating myself because of the depression, which I now feel, whereas before, I only felt "stable," hence my argument that I was not "delusional" as a bipolar because I would need to be in a major mood episode.

I miss people however. Friends. a.

I figured as long as I never had a "fixed belief," I could never be declared delusional. I would not be delusional. What I didn't realize: I was sitting in the middle of a pond of delusional thinking.

I thought I was being followed, etc.

I had lost insight into my own behavior while investigating my behavior and facts about my life.

I was losing the fight daily. No.

I was missing the puzzle box.

There's no word for it. DEvastated? Broken hearted? Torn up?

HOw about I had a psychotic break over it? I went to pieces. d. Over a man and a hacking.

I did not go gracefully. I went out with bang and white noise and clutter and chatter and a pulling scream. And the person I hurt most was me. 0.

I drank until I reach hell. d. I danced around the edges of fire, convinced that my youth and lack of experience would win me back to earth, to safety.

It didn't . I paid. I"m still paying. NO. d. EVery day. d. 4x.

Mostly i believe, I will never love another like I loved him.

time will tell on that shit.

nO. d

Where is Freedom of Speech inside one's own skull?

Without immediate consequence from the inside crowd who hangs around?

x.

I can't help but think, self-loathing or grandiose or nothing of the kind, that my spirit and my intellect would have gone on to be better if it wasn't for the schizoaffective disorder or the mental illness. What would I have done instead? Until I stop asking that question, I can do nothing more with myself.

"Maybe I should come out more often, I'm going to have you hanging in that c garage." x

ONe of the voices says, the female. xo.

Never. 4.

"It doesn't matter," says another one. "He just wants you dead."
nO. 9. o.c.

"Because it's all related, you dumb bitch," he continues when I comment that the hacking is confirming the voices. No. Yse 9. o. 9. .9.9.

There has never been a story. There have always been stories, no clear path, always convoluted bullshit, counterintellgence. d. Why tell the truth now/ They haven't. x. They still lie. x9.

The hacking was never meant for communication. d. 5.x.

Say YES to EVerything o.

The hacking, of course, is unreliable. They will give "nO" to anything. x. l. o. d. IF I was listening to my own psychiatric symptoms, they would agree to that too. d. Is there real danger out there wanting to hurt me? I have no idea. x. x.

"Just believe in something greater than yourself. x. Believe in me."
nO. a.

"Don't hate me for it."

nO. c.

"You are so critical, and so demanding and so pushy..." My grandmother said to me this morning over the phone. x. "I have to watch everything I say."

I can help but think this is because I was psychotic and drove her to the last of her patience. x. d.o.

I tried to talk back to her over the phone, but found my words slipping away, from my tongue out into the never-land, away, certainly not to her. But clearly in my brain, I gather a good argument how I could not be compared to a homeless woman living on the streets with cats.

"If I have to get a dictionary every time I talk to you, we just shouldn't talk," she threatens. d

o. I can barely speak or write or think anymore. I expect people to be understand. Expect is a big word, and don't I expect too much? NO.

I am paralyzed by the movement. x. around in my skull of the voices. a.

"just give it up, you know we are real...that was a pre-cog thinking we are real."
no. d

Someone really wants you dead.
nO. d

"You are really depressed though, I can tell."
nO. x

'YOu think we can't tell, but we can tell."
nO. c

I am scared of the voices and what it means for my sanity.
nO. 4

I fear the extra medication is not helping.
nO Yse xc

The depression has set in heavy. ON my limbs, heart, soul. NO where to go to escape it. x.9. Nothing poetic to say about it. x. d. Just is.

I am trapped in a world of superstition in fight to avoid "bringing on the voices." a. NO TV. c. As I am now extra-sensitive to violent imaginary. x. Talking to certain people seems to irritate them, so I have to make decisions about that .nO. 9.l

Perhaps I should have known something was terribly wrong in my life when the number of items in receipts were double or other lines were double.

Or worse, I"m looking for "code" in lines of numbers. Not being a mathematician, what am I looking for? d. REpetition, but of what? c.

I wasn't made smarter by all of this havoc. Honestly, I never paid attention to receipts. For all I know, constant mistakes were made. You buy one apple, the machine says 2 sometimes just because, no hacking ever needed. d. If you were to buy one apple. d. Buying 5? It might say the number what? SEVEN. x.

"Of course the 5mg isn't working, I want you dead."
nO> d

ONe of the voices. x

"And you, you like the wild ride."

nO. d

One of the voices says.

"I'm going to have you hanging one way or another."

ONe of the voices says.

I didn't drink, fearing not the becoming an alcoholic, who fears that? It happens after years of hard drinking or whispers to you one day, sneaking behind your back--no. I didn't fear that. I fear instead the snap, losing my mind, blacking out and hanging in the garage, which seemed more possible when drunk.

Call me still delusional. But sober.

I laughed at myself a little.

No.

I went out to lunch with my stepfather, going to the same bar I was at on Christmas.

All I wanted was a shot of Grey Goose, but the voices rang out about my craving for alcohol and that I'm going to end up an alcoholic. No. Yes x. 4.

The man who found my book at Barnes&Nobles just shuffled off behind the counter, never looking at me in the eye. I wondered about him. x. Was he okay? Did he hear things too? Was he caught up in the cloud of mind dust over his vision?

The voices, meaning to or not, separate us from the rest of life, stealing away our time with the rest of the world. NO. YSe x9. o. We love o.

WE lose hours and days lost inside. a.

Nothing Was Random or Coincidental x

"His longstanding conviction that the universe was rational evolved into a caricature of itself, turning into an unshakable belief that everything had meaning, everything had a reason, nothing was random or coincidental. For much of the time, his grandoise delusions insulated him from the painful reality of all that he had lost. But then would come terrible flashes of awareness...He sometimes told others that his enforced idleness made him feel ashamed of himself, worthless. MOre often, he expressed his suffering wordlessly."

--A Beautiful Mind by Nasar x

I was somewhere between the ages of eight and ten years old. My mother and I were arguing in the backyard of the house in Hanford, CA. x. I told her, "I hate you!"

She stopped me, "Don't you ever say that to me again." d

I never did.

It is another one of my worst memories in life.

I never solidly looked for a partner, the voices calling me "cold," d, as I've never made having a relationships a priority. NO. SE c. 4. xdc.

"Admit it: you're alone, you're alone all the time, you like being alone." One of them says .
nO YSec.

ESpecially lately. c. 4.

"IN The Dynamics of Creation, Anthony STorr, the British psychiatrist, contends that an individual who 'fears love almost as he fears hatred' maybe turn to creative activity not only out of impulse to experience aesthetic pleasure, or the delight in exercising an active mind, but also defend himself against anxiety stimulated by conflicting demands for detachment and human contact."

pg. 15 A Beautiful Mind by Nasar

"I got a hole in me now
Yeah, I got a scar I can talk about"

--Matchbox Twenty, "Bright Lights" io

I want you to be okay.
nO. ase xyyy99

WE allwant you to be okay
nO. yyyy

"Do you really want to hurt me? Do you really want to make me cry?"

--Culture Club

"I want nothing from you but love."
NO. x.o.

"I want nothing from you but love," He repeats in my brain. NO. x.

I cannot love a person I don't see or touch or talk to.

"You can talk to me, Lace...I am right here."x. x.o.

"I know you are upset." c. "But we can get through this." NO.i. x. "WE will get through this."N o. x. o.

Why did my mind produce such a thing? x. A living, talking doll for my own pleasure, torturing me with words? x.

Not real, I say.

REal, he says. x. d.

I spurn the comfort. I want the live person in person. Why is that so hard? x. Wasn't that the original fight? x . Did I go psychotic for that little disagreement?

All I hear over and over again, "I am real, Lace." c.

My parents now realize the seriousness of my condition as the hospital staff gave them a lecture on schizoaffective disorder and how severely I've been affected by it.

I called them once from a hallway phone in the hospital during my stay, not even sure if I was actually talking to them but sure that I was going to die. I cried to my mother, and gave a speech about how I was sorry we fought, but I loved her anyway. A typical goodbye, I love you and will miss you. Same thing for my stepfather.

We live that first day after near death the same, all of us, but how many of us make deep, lasting changes in our lives? Few. no. 9. d

I fear not death as much, I believe, as I fear living because I haven't done that much of it.

I wrote to Jack and said I never really loved someone as in the day to day boring, every day life stuff. Good stuff love. Like in a working marriage. d. I sent that the night before I thought I was going to die. x. d.

That's living to me. ON the list of accomplishments that ranks high. d. OR making a life out of helping others. x.

Early days of paranoia weren't so pretty.

I lost the key to the hotel room in Santa Maria or it was stolen out of the console of the car. I have no idea which. The car had been broken into before. d. I remember scrambling around inside the room then, looking for cameras or listening devices, see where their equipment was--this group who was after me.

I found none, but nervously insisted on another room. d.

I slept uneasily next door thinking they could just make a key to this room as well. I wasn't safe at this hotel period. d. I didn't like the discomfort of new surroundings even if the change was small. d. The difference in the rooms was minor.

"We joked that the fixtures on the wall were bugged and we were probably being listened to..."

-pg. 163 of The Center Cannot HOld by Saks

The voices tell me scary things about the future, about the past, about themselves, about me.

I wonder why. None of it can be confirmed by the outside.


They do not command me to do anything.

They are like angry next door neighbors in your brain who have just dropped by for a nasty little visit--unwelcomed.

No. 999.

i o

What in my psyche would produce such an awfulness, to be close to a mirage, and yet so far from the reality, the man who I call Morpheus? I can think of only deep pain that I cannot actualize to my daily self. x. I cannot fully acknowledge the loss, and therefore must patch the wound with a false prophet who comes and knocks at my door and stands in my house. d. He whispers about love and marriage and false qualities of his personality and his history. d. He is not Saul, he is not Paul. He is transparent.

He just roams around, bumping into my furniture, wounding me further as he tries to explain all that has happened between us, the real us.

WE will marry February 14, 2012, he says. Surely that day. dxx.

A ghost. He is. o.

"You only live and breathe and think to write."

nO.

ONe of the voices says.

My passion. My heart. Taken. w. x.

The security of which is now always questionable.

Chained to the ghost lover.

I am.

NO.

"I'm real for god's sakes," he says, growing angry.

nO. d

But you I created one last time. 0.

Is this my hell?

Having a "Morpheus" tell me he loves me in my head, claiming to be real, all the while I know he is imaginary, a ploy by a lovesick brain?

Didn't God punish me enough?

nO.

I had a psychotic break over a FAcebook message.

My lessons are about Morpheus, surrounding him.

Now, I have a mini-him in my head, cooing words of love. c.

Was I that desperate, unable to let go? No. d. d

Depression is not what I feel. Empty and loss of control. no. 9. xc. d.

My me, her, she is hiding from the rampage in my brain. x.

Inside my brain, I feel like I'm suffocating, like someone is pulling out the oxygen--the voices prancing around with the conversations. Where in the room are my words?

With the added Zyprexa, I"m even more sluggish, slurring around the slop of which use to be intelligence discourse coming from my monologue. Me.

Now I cannot fantasize in there without commentary from two men, new residence in my home, my brain. 9. z.

I want to see Morpheus. nOY. o.o.

"I was just afraid it was going to get worse and worse," my grandmother confesses over the phone. d

I hate hearing that. YSe c. d. ilox.

If you're mentally ill, and you are upset at someone for a good reason, it can get blamed on you. d.

"CAll me when you're better," my grandmother said.

Sigh. x.

"You never..." ETc. d She says. Those all-or-nothing statements. Accusing me of doing mean things to her, always this, never that.

I hung up on her. I can't deal with it right now. d.

"I'm not like those people," I tried explaining. "I have more insight into my behavior." i

"I wasn't comparing you," she answered.

I'm so doped up right now, I couldn't find a good argument. What was I saying? NO. In my life now, I don't have much for support from people. I'm ultra-sensitive to criticism, although she accuses me of criticising her.

Words hurt. Especially from family members. no9.

I have no idea where the threats come from. NO. d.

Yes. OR why. Or what the hell happened.

Do you still want to hurt me?

nO. d

"I know you think I'm crazy," I said to my grandmother at the beginning of the conversation, which was a bad direction to go during the phone call. She's purposefully called me "nuts" before with the intention to hurt. NOt a playful "nuts," not in jest, but a mean "nuts."

But what do you say when the voices are so harassing you have to stop one "outside" conversation with her over the phone, and talk to the roaring internal dialogue with "him"? Who has taken up residence in your brain?

I am on a sliding scale, every day counts, I want to say. YOu can be there for me, or not. You are lying, aren't you? Grandma. d. Paranoia or not? You think I am nuts.

Maybe yesterday was bad, maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe I will just improve over time. Maybe in the future, we will forget this bad spot. Lacey A will return from where ever she went. This will be some soft dream. WE won't even mention it.

But don't compare me to someone who is essentially living on the streets. a. I am scared for myself. 0. d.

Slipping Away

Will I slip away without my knowledge into madness becoming? c. a.

I can't tell. i. Will I climb right now.? OUt?

ON the phone, my grandmother just compared me to a homeless woman [d] who owns a bunch of cats, and comes by the her house and asks for favors.

"This has helped me understand her better," my grandmother says. d.

Why does this not make me feel relieved or happy myself? nO. d.

"The death threats and hate mail, she says, have slowed, and she keeps her office door unlocked in defiance. There, Jennifer L. McCann sits behind her desk, wearing leopard print pumps, poised for an argument. "

--http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/06/nyregion/lawyer-for-levi-aron-defends-her-clients-and-herself.html?hp


Ms. McCann is receiving death threats but she is just gutting up and doing it. I really admire that. d

Sorry if everyone thinks she's lost "her sensitivity." x. i.

Defending the Accused

“People assume I’m O.K. with a young boy being murdered because I represent the defendant,” Ms. McCann, 30, said recently in her office in Garden City, N.Y., which she opened in March after four years of practicing criminal defense law for a local firm. “To me, that’s pretty vicious. They have to understand, I’m not all right with people being murdered or with crime. I’m all right with defending constitutional rights.

“If he’s guilty, he will be convicted. And that’s it. But my God,” she added with gritted teeth, “it’s going to be legally.”

...“You protect their rights,” she said, “even when society wants to turn on them.”

--Lawyer for Levi Aron Defends...

I learn another lesson today:

If you talk out loud to the "voices" or commanding thoughts, you can drown them out. d.

I had to do so while on the phone to my grandmother.

Is psychosis temporarily loss of free will to madness?

I got so close to it that the idea scares me from alcohol, from--what did I succumb to? What was I fighting against that round? What was my punishment?

To lose "you"? What greater horror exists on this earth?

I'm here to say, none.

Absolute. None. no9.

My mother in the driveway, "I'll take you anywhere you want to go. STanford. UCLA."

She was referring to hospitals.

She called me "delusional" hours before. d.

Was I at that point? No.

My answer without the hacking of the NO. Is NO. It was early in the game then. 9.

I remember the guy at the bar I picked up, who called me "delusional" and then a few moments later said that he was ATF just so he could get into my pants (but obviously failed to provide any ID).

I told him to leave the passenger seat of my car because he was not a good "test."

Was I more scared than angry? NO.

In the early days, it seemed I was fueling up on sheer wild crazed anger. At all the mess my life had become. 9. iooo.

i loce u

One of the biggest issues the voices beat me with:

My IQ, which for a fact, no one knows.nO. 4.

Maybe it is small. Maybe it is big.

I will never get it tested.

Over and over again, I am called, "Stupid bitch." a.

I'm not as smart as "[John Doe]." I do not measure up. Hence, why in life, I never did anything. OR why now, I struggle with reading and listening to the ranting noise of the voices chattering inside my skull. It is all my fault, you see. Someone has to be to blame. Surely we cannot say it is blameless. An Act of God. No.

When I was in eighth grade, my results came back 116. My teacher was especially surprised, "I thought it would have been higher than that."

Those little boxes you are supposed to figure out the patterns of? Yeah. I don't get that. IT's part of the IQ test. Am I stupid? Maybe just for that.

What are the voices doing? Breaking me down. ONe little box upstairs in the attic at a time.

This is my weakness, my smarts or lack thereof. I hurt all over. a. As they shuffle around up there.

Schizoaffective Disorder

I have been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder while hospitalized. An illness I haven't even bothered doing much research on. I have not come to grips with it like I did with bipolar illness. 4. I'm waiting for the day when everything click-click-clicks. So far, nothing. d.

I hate new label. A lot. d. d4. I was finally comfortable with bipolar. 0. 9. r.x. Now, I don't know how to look at myself again with this new information. What should I say about myself? That I bear resemblance to schizophrenia? 9. o. o.

"I wearily checked back into the Warneford for my second hospitalization, officially one of those patients who had 'come back.' The admission note summed things up pretty well: 'Thin, tall, chain-smoking, sad, inappropriate laughter at times, seems physically and mentally retarded.'

I hated myself."

--The Center CAnnot HOld, pg. 77

I hope to look back on these days, and say that I just got through that, and close my eyes tight against the memory.

I wrote it out, though, I will say to myself with eyes shut.

Never by Hanging

I only [want]

I only went to the shower once with the intention of "hanging myself." I got to the door, and turned away. o. Ridiculous. I couldn't hang. I hated hanging. The idea. Just standing there. d. Waiting. d

Suspended. d.

I decided any way but that. I had my towels in my hand, and went back to my room.

I kept visualizing, if I kept myself together through the torture of the voices, I could get some morphine pills when I was out and back home, and go peacefully. The best out in the world. NO. d.4. OD.

Now that I'm home, I realize that wasn't the fight at all. It was not dying in any fashion. d.o.o.
The battle still rages. d.o.

Do people get second chances in life? OR is it over at twenty-eight?

The voices tell me that my life is over.a. I will barely be able to finish my Bachelor's.

I am caught in my own failures. MY fears of success. AFter all, I had all that time to do--and I did nothing. I was a drop out, I was a whore, I did not succeed.

The voices said, that's it. Tiime's up.

Somehow, this is all supposed to involve me. d

Ha!

Hey you! YOu over there! WE want to walk all over you and your brain and your head and your soul and your heart and your spirit.

Why? Because. d

999.

There's no reason. LIfe is without cause.

no
ou
you
n love
you
no

My torture chamber is my brain. d

One of the voices said, "You only think to write." d

Discharged for Being Gay

They lived shadow lives in the military, afraid that disclosure of their sexuality would ruin carefully plotted careers. Many were deeply humiliated by drawn-out investigations and unceremonious discharges.

Yet despite their bitter partings with the armed forces, many gay men and lesbians who were discharged under the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy say they want to rejoin the service, drawn by a life they miss or stable pay and benefits they could not find in civilian life.

--Discharged for being Gay

"I nevertheless fought to somehow hang onto my autonomy--my self."

--The Center Cannot HOld by Saks pg. 81

i x

I cannot lose myself if I keep writing, a promise to myself. no9. the only way.o.i.

I'm afraid of not being Lacey anymore. x. WAke up one morning and being someone else. x. o.o.

I fight with feelings of self-hatred like most people battle when they have mental illness, but no one wants to lose their self completely if they glare down that ugly rabbit hole long enough. NO.y.o. The a

WE want ourselves but with improvements, that's the deal. NO. yyyes of course. no y. d. 9. I struggled with this yesterday when the "voices" were bad.

We just want to be better human beings. i. Wipe out the self-hatred inside. d.

Commanding Thoughts d

"In my fog of isolation and silence, I began to feel I was receiving commands to do thing--such as walk all by myself through the old abandoned tunnels that lay underneath the hospital. The origin of the commands was unclear. IN my mind, they were issued by some sort of beings. Not real people with names or faces, but shapeless, powerful beings that controlled me with thoughts (not voices) that had been placed in my head...The effect of those commands on me during those nights and days was powerful...the commanding impulse, came from inside my head but was not mine. It was someone else commanding me."

--The Center CAnnot HOld pgs. 84-85 by Saks. 4.9.

With the hacking, I feel like my mind has been raped. d

I felt like this long before I was diagnosed with any psychotic symptoms.

nO.

Yes, I was angry. 409.

"Yeah, you're outnumbered and outclassed, bitch," from one of the voices, the only female.

I am outnumbered, I will give her that. nO. 999

Cast out the noise, who can leave whom? no0

who is chained to whom?

"She's leaving. YOu won't." He said. No. 9999

I go. I stay. I go. I stay. I write. I cry. d

WE .NO more you. NO more me. It's a WE. 3. x. o.

IN the land where thoughts get you in trouble, no rest, no peace.4.

The voices are after me now. d

All day. 4. 4. 4. 4.

I was the girl wrong, wrong time, wrong place, wrong guy, fuck him wrong, too slow, too boring.

Pissed someone off.

Upstairs, they complain, they must have something to complain about. All day,

ONly rest is when I'm dead. No. 99. d

Afraid to think now, Master and minions.

Bow down, bitch.
NO. 9. d

I am in my own private hell. a.

Concentrate

"What was real, what was not? I couldn't decipher the difference, and it was exhausting. I could not concentrate on my academic work."

--The Center CAnnot HOld by Saks, pg. 56

Grammar School

There were three of us, separated from our classmates at a table in the corner of the room. One day, the teacher, who seldom spoke to us since it was understood that most of what she taught was beyond the reach of our intelligence, placed books in our hands and whispered that we should sit there quietly “pretending to read.” The principal was coming.

--With Dyslexia, Words Failed Me

--
This was my experience in grammar school.

Except that I am not dyslexic. No. 9.
--

And suddenly I was reading. I didn’t know then that I was beginning a lifelong love affair with the first-person voice and that I would spend most of my life inventing characters to say all the things I wanted to say. I didn’t know that I was to become a poet, that in many ways the very thing that caused me so much confusion and frustration, my belabored relationship with words, had created in me a deep appreciation of language and its music, that the same mind that prevented me from reading had invented a new way of reading, a method that I now use to teach others how to overcome their own difficulties in order to write fiction and poetry.

44

For a while, to me, the world was a giant connected trap, thin invisible lines gathered all things.

This was the mark of psychosis.

Only I could never see it in myself but a few flashes here and there. 4.

Desperate for clues was I driven mad or was there madness to start?

There is no answer to this basic question.

IN other words, was the psychosis stress induced or am I schizoaffective?

Even though I knew it was pointless, I blurted out to one of the doctors, "Because I promised seven months..." d

And a promise is a promise if only made to someone who was imaginary walking around in my head. NO. 9.

"THe similarity is not what you might think--that philosophy and psychosis don't have rules...on the contrary, each is governed by very strict rules. The trick is to discover what those rules are, and in both cases, that inquiry takes place almost solely inside one's head...and...the line between creativity and madness can be razor thin..."

--The Center CAnnot HOld pg. 40 by Saks

"And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."

--John 8:32, King James Version

"The hacking is actually happening," one of the voices says, The General.4.

I am nervous the morning. They are starting up again.
nO 9

"You are not schizophrenic," the General says again. 4.

When they charge on, they have me falling almost completely avictim.

I feel extremely helpless because of it. NO. 9.

Stress seems to make the voices more aggressive, and bring them on. And then I get sucked into their world, away from the "real word," or the ongoing outside world. I am distracted then from conversations, from daily life.

I don't know how to protect myself from them. NO. d

I have learn one more valuable lesson:

How precious the interior of your mind is.

NO .

To you alone. i. oo.

"I’m not under the illusion that all my selves are equally appealing, though, and this was where I got confused to the point of paralysis."

--"I'm On FAcebook. It's Over" -- The New York Times

I played around with writing under my real name, and then after the hospital hid under an anon again because of perceived social consequences. 9.

All swimming my sanity, nothing firm.
nO y

For the taking.

I live in a world wrapped up in fear, as I've never lived before. I stay locked there by voices who hold me prisoner. 9. I am only afraid of myself, what I"m capable of doing. d. Who I am. What I was. Where I've been. Where I am going. nO. 090. 9.

I fight humiliation every day. I am in a battle I cannot win. It is not a fair fight. No. 999. .x I refuse to surrender. NO. Yes. a.

The pages are my march. d

"You'll be okay," one of the voices says. NO. dioooooo

AFter chaos explodes in my brain. d. 9.9.9.

The General, a voice in my brain, said that Big Brother saved my life on August 20th, 2008.
nO. d.

Not the hospital, not anyone else, but Big Brother.
NO. Yes no. 9. e4.

What is this a conference call in front of my brain?
nO. d0.o.

I will d

I feel like I am slipping farther and farther into darkness. daad

"I'm going to break you down, bitch." one of the voices says.
nO9 000000999

NO. NOt soon. Never. d

No one wants to go looking for his/her version of "Jack," for six months, that long-lost loved one that we can never have back again. d Running through all the phone lines, all their relationships we trash--holding on to the fleeting--the past--chasing the gone.

To spare another person of this is worth some psychological pain (as threatened by another "voice"). 00.

NO. yes.

Sometimes bad things to good people. 09. d.

O Towels and Shame

Because it wasn't the first time I had bothered the nurses about the towels. It was the third or fourth time.

But I could never make it into the shower room. I was mostly afraid of the white, blinding light of alien hell.

There's a long story to the scenario. You see, my mother is an alien, and I'm human or I'm an alien, or I forget which it is the voices told me, but I go to alien hell where they torture me forever. If I fucking take a shower. e.

Dont' need a fucking shower that bad. I"m telling you. 999.

I get my towels again in shame. Head down, shaking with fear. Shame over the fear, knowing that I could die anyway, and then the shame over believing the bullshit if it is all bullshit and then, guess what? I could still be that fucked up in the head. Over a goddamn shower room. d. And worse, I'm mostly afraid of aliens. NOthing else. o.

I shower.

NO one claps for me.

NO one kills me.

NO aliens arrive.

But I never died. And I kept waking up each other. d

EAch morning at the hospital, grateful to be alive. NO one had swallowed me whole yet. No one had typed in a code to suffocate me in my sleep. d. Slow my breathing more and more until I just cease to be. nO. It never happened. I was still me, scared of everything, sipping my fake, decaf coffee and afraid to do anything. Sometimes I paced the hall, in front of the shower room, sometimes I just laid in bed, sometimes I stared out the window. But I was still me, the strongest "you," and that was victory. NO one could question that. Who cared if I hadn't bathed in how many days? I didn't care yet.

I finally told a nurse about my secret curse. I was to die in the shower room.

She said to me, not even looking at me, "Now, does that sound rational?" Even bored. Like she got this one a lot.

I didn't respond. I could die in there. I was planning it. Death. NO mas. You know about death? I don't believe in an afterlife!

I got my towels in shame. d.

"In fact, it is not necessarily true that everything can be conquered with willpower. There are forces of nature and circumstance that are beyond our control, let alone our understanding, and to insist on victory in the face of this, to accept nothing less, is just asking for soul-pummeling. The simple truth is, not very fight can be won."

--pg. 32 The Center CAnnot Hold by Elyn R. Saks

I realized this at the hospital, and decided simply I had met my match, and that I was going to die no matter what I did. One of the bravest things I've ever done in my life is taken a shower in that room. NO one will ever believe that though. NO. OR at least, they cannot understand it unless they have gone through the psychological torment about one little chamber in a building. d.

"How I refused to let you go even when you were gone..." x

--Shinedown "IF you ONly Knew"

Testing ONe Two Three

Everything is a choice or a test. Make the wrong decisions, you could die sooner rather than later. I did something wrong, and now I will live one month less. From what exactly? Age 81? Or 35? OR 28? I don't know. The voices aren't clear on that. d. Think the wrong image, someone gets pissed off even though you don't have immediate control over those. LIke staring at some girl's ass because she's wearing tight jeans while walking downtown. "HOt," you think. a. Someone is pissed off about that. YOu call it thought control. It's thought censorship. d. The voices are running terrorism. ONly fuel for the fire. d.

"There is no hate in your soul for me."N o

ONe of the voices. 4. d

xxxxxx

"YOu don't know where that was coming from."

--from one of the voices. The idea that the voices and the hacking is linked. NO. yyyyyy. d4. o.

NO. x.

"You cannot control it, Lace." NO. "It's just there." No. 999999.

Where is the line drawn between reality and mental illness? Everyday, I try to find it. a.

Something strong. a. "YOu are strong."No. 9.

i ooooooo

"You shouldn't have fucked with us Lace."
nO d

ONe of the voices says.

"I want you dead."
nO. d

One of the voices says. x.

IN the beginning, just before the voices, I experienced something like being awake but watching a nightmare--viewing violent daydreams about other people. Real or imagined. FAlse memories. d. I have no idea what to do with them, so I just a experienced them while sitting on the bed.

They were of two people fighting.

AFter a while, the false memories disappeared. And then the voices came. No. 9.

How to swing the door close again? ON the voices? I let them in, how to push them out? No. d

"Lacey, we are real," they keep repeating. d

Another Promise o

I have a seven month promise that I made to an imaginary ADvisor that I would not harm myself.
nO. 09.

Starting on the August 13, 2011. d.

REturned and ATtacked

AFter a trip to Costco in which one of the strong male voices returned and attacked me, I am too weak and tired to continue shopping and reminded of how dangerous all of this is. NO. What battles lay ahead? Am I fit?

Am I going to be okay? I don't even have an answer for myself on this day or the next. d.

They are not even "voices" in the traditional sense. They are just chatter boxes in my brain as introspective narration. i. No auditory hallucination as of yet. Yes. 9. 4.

IN reality, I don't give hugs to people. But over and over again, I type "O." INvoluntarily. 0.

And I wonder about this phenomenon. o.i.o.io.

But it's unlike me. d.

Maybe it's some part of me crying out to give and receive affection, and then again, maybe it's some neurological error. I can't imagine a piece of my brain split off, in total darkness from the rest of me, sending out OOOO to others and to "you" of me, unbeknownst e to the conscious me--like there's a part trying to get away with something secret. o.

The id saying you need a hug today because shit is really fucked up over here. Do you know? YOu don't know, but you will get your head out of your ass soon enough. Figure of speech. 4. The ego says, "What??" d Message lost in transmission. 9.

"You can go insane because of all of this."

INteresting insight from a "voice." No. 9999

I wish he'd at least call and accept my apology. 9.

Forgive us.

Love. no9.

MY spirit has been wounded. nO. 9. I can't even write full entries anymore. NO. d This is how down I feel. NO. 9. i ooo. i ooo .

I feel as if I'm just going succumb to some schizophrenia diagnosis, as I foretold a while back, that I will happen, this is my life. And there is nothing I can do about it. I'm closer than you think. nO.90. iloce you.

I'm afraid I'll have to go back into the hospital again by the end of this year. NO. 9.

MOre Precious Every DAy 9

I wish I could be freed from myself, from my worries, from my pain, from all that holds me down, but life isn't fair like that, or work like that. no0. WE struggle, and the fight supposedly makes us stronger but in the meantime, in the now, in the moment, we are weakened while growing. o.9. WE don't see us how others see us. NO. 9.

EVeryday for me is a challenge. 9. Every moment I'm afraid of the voices coming back and charging on and ordering me around. I am afraid of myself. I write of that fear because I love writing more than just about anything. nO. If I gain perspective, I have won. i. I hold on to that with my dear life that I Have left to live. nO. 9. i. More precious every day. NO. 4. Yes 2 a. x.

Wellness is not a straight line. i lo you. ve.No. 400. ooo.

By Dr. Eric Manheimer

I soon realized I had no idea what kind of rabbit hole I had fallen into.

...But it was also about more: my world progressively shrinking to a small, sterile, asteroidal universe between the interminable nausea and the chemobrain that left my head both empty and feverish, between survival and death....During one particularly desperate hospitalization, after receiving blood transfusions and a drug to stimulate my white cells, I decided that I had had enough. I refused further radiation and chemotherapy....

My dreams of dying were not the products of anxious moments of terror. The life force had simply slipped away and made me ready to die.

--When Doctors Become Patients

"Judge Shira Scheindlin of Federal District Court in New York made the right call when she refused to dismiss a lawsuit against the New York City Police Department, which alleged that officers use race as a basis for stopping and frisking citizens, rather than reasonable suspicion."

--The Truth Behind Stop-and-Frisk

"Wish yOu Were Here" - Pink Floyd

"I wish I could be there too."
nO 9

They [the introspective voices] talk back. NO. 9.

We don't talk back because you never talk. nO .

I Hacked Back Once

U MAD?

NO.

Good. dd

iiiiiiiiiii loce u baack. d

k's.

yyyyyyyyyyyy.

[Pentagon called me ZERO] e

All to Myself

I debate if I've done all of this myself to myself. dl. .I don't know how it would be possible, but maybe. 4. I'm not left much for options. nO.

The NO/No/nO is hacked all the time. I ponder that because it's proof that not all of this is psychiatric illness. 4.

Where to go from here? 4. ONly forward. No. 9999.

Done Better Job

xcxxxxxxxx

I wish I would have done better job in everything over the past nine months. But what job would that have been? Even now, I don't know. No. 9999. How can I judge myself so severely when I can't find any clues? No. 9. I can't find the bench. NO. 4.

xxxx

What was all of this for? For harm? For harm and for hinder and for love and for support? Hugs plus hurt? No. oooo. WE don't know, we can't tell you, we are confused ourselves, we are wondering now what to do, every day changes our plans because there is no plan. d. WE watch you watch us.

In Sessionli

I haven't made the greatest decisions in relationships, but why defend those decisions now? Look at what I've been through in the past nine months. d. Should I defend myself while sitting on a couch? a. NO. d.9.

Should I pour out regret? Guilt feverishly? NO. "I could have..." NO. x.

NO one would benefit. d. ESpecially me. No. 9. i.lo.o.yl.

In Therapy Today

The therapist implied that I didn't know the difference between real love and sex and attraction.

nO. 3i.looo.

It hurt me to hear her say that about MOrpheus. ad
No. x.4.

I remember the man motioning to me through the glass while he drove a black BMW through an intersection.

"WAit, wait....I'm going to give you such a pinch..." He said over the phone as "RAndy." But Randy was in NJ. And I was sitting on a bench in San Luis Obispo. d.

I remember. The Zyprexa didn't kill that memory. nO. 09.

I am

I was an experiment [iloooo] in all things gone wrong.

I am Jack's temper over the lines twisted and turned. 4.

o.e.a.o.o.9.

The Next Steps. d4.

oooo

I have been humbled by this whole experience because I have been faced with forces I do not understand by the education I have received. x. In this, I have lost a lot of my pride and fearlessness. NO. 4.n. How do you fight back when you don't even know how to start? NO. r. Instead, I hoped to just bear it, and survival all the blows. d. What is fighting back when you don't even know what you are facing? nO. With the FBI opting out, what options did I have left? d. o.o.o.o.i9.,lolool.

My next step is hustling the paperwork for a report to the INspector General in Washington, D.C. I'm stalling because I'm waiting to feel better to find someone to analyze the computer, and to prepare the report. NO. 9. It will not be easy to find anyone to help me. No. 999. ilovr y.o.u.

AFter that, I don't know what will happen. d.

Zyprexa didn't cure the memories nor the nightmares.

c

Do I try to erase them all myself? No. 43x r. i love you.9,l

Where is my recovery?

My life has forever been changed since February, and I cannot find my way out. do.o.

Where do I go? d4.

The only question left this morning:

U MAD? d4

I am not giving up. nO. 3.x.

“But if you go back to the Hippocratic oath that all doctors adhere to, it’s ‘First do no harm.’ So if you have a sign that says ‘Hey, look, here’s a really vulnerable person you’re about to walk in and see,’ then maybe a sign focused on that person will cue this larger core value in the physician to protect the patient.”

--Getting Doctors to Wash Their Hands

It's getting back to the idea that doctors are more concerned about their patients than themselves. oo.

My Options

Walking hurriedly from my bedroom at the ranch into the kitchen, feeling like I'm going to black out, thinking I'm going into a coma.

"Something bad is happening, I don't like it," says the good voice.

I am dialing 911.

This was before I was even hospitalized. I think this is it. I'm going into a coma, never to possibly wake up or ten years from now. I feel faint. d. It was probably only a drop in blood pressure.e I'm just about to press send when one of the voices tell me not to. I don't.

It happens again later in the day. Death or coma. My options. d.

All's Quiet

Cerulean blue. THe idea that someone can warp your mind so much, he/she can temporarily take it over. 4.

This idea the voices tried to convince me of while I was in the hospital. That I could snap like a piece of bark, walk into shower, and hang myself there. Not me as in "you," but someone else take me down.

The thought creeps me on a level nothing else really does.

I've had it happen in the sense that I've blacked out and done things. If you've had seizures or blacked out on alcohol this phenomenon has happened. But what about the puppet master?

Someone else at the controls.

Can you lose a "you"? d4.

They laughed and said, "Body bag." d.

I'm still here though.

nO.

Lesson Number 1 -- No.

One of the biggest lessons, if not the only lesson, is:

Be careful who you make friends with online. d.4.x.

You don't really know that person ever. 4.ooo

And that's not paranoia talking, that just good common sense that I didn't have nine months ago.

Rolling in the Deep

The scars of your love, remind me of us.
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless
I can't help feeling
We could have had it all

--"Rolling in the Deep" by Adele

What world did I create? d The voices chattering on. a.r.

I am Jack's d sea of rejection.
I am Jack's love of life swamped by his insecurities. 432.

I am Jack's hope inside futility.
I am Jack's fight for all writing without judgment.
ooo

[reference: Fight Club]

Wish I could go back in time, and do things over again. Wise people don't live with regret, not because they didn't fuck shit up too, but because they know that regret is worthless. sigh.

My self-esteem is at an all-time low. d. Sitting on the couch, finish off a pint of Ben&Jerry's--even though I'm at my thinnest in six years--thanks to the hunger (side effect) of Zyprexa creeping up on me. I'm in PJ's, underneath a blanket. I've been here all day. I hear myself, the cog's, "No one likes me," etc, and I know. It's bad Lacey days lined up. I fight them back, or I let them go. They are not voices, but just me. "I'm going to get fat on Zyprexa..." ETc. "No one will want to fuck me fat." ETc. The trials of being mentally ill. "He won't forgive me..." ETc. d.

The evenings are the worst for me depression-wise. d. My mood dips the lowest. Everything becomes a terrible problem needing to be fixed now, or everything was a terrible problem that we cannot fix, and hence must suffer through now. O. Forever. d. d. Latter seems to be the case more often than not. NO. d. d.

I am not the person I once was. d. Depression has stolen my life. Psychotic symptoms have done worse.