Voices

many sees me as crazy, many sees me as a gifted, many sees me as abnormal, many sees me as magician.

but what they don't see is, the hurt "me". many thinks that what i did was to get an attention, some called me as attention seeker ; thpugh i never hears it from their mouth but their behaviour shows much that what they said is different from what they've spoke softly in their heart. 

professionals could not decipher how humans or mentally ill patients could hear voices in or out their heads. they think we are crazy or some think that we made-up our own story when in fact ; it's what we've experienced. 

i could personally hear voices in and out since i was 12 ; i was young back then, therefore i could never understand what mental illness is, what depression, social anxiety, insomnia and etc do means. however it got worst as i entered secondary school life. (i am not sure how other countries education system is like, in Singapore, the moment you've turned 13, you've considered yourself in secondary school. so count yourself which grade i was in your country as i could not really decipher the grade system). 

the moment i was in secondary school, i thought, my life would be lucky. i've always wanted to be someone who could inspire others in pursuing life independence, not to usually depend on your parents for small or big things. that was my dream when i was younger. i thought i got a good friends, good school, good teachers and fun classmates but then, my life soon turns to become a life-changing tale. i had barely a friends in school though we communicate often. the friends whom i assume to be my best friends, left me and became my enemy. my best friends who were by my side became a friend that was rarely contactable. i was considered "okay" in school, though things were get tough due to exams. i couldn't cope with everything. i was in NCC-sea for my CCA but i left because i can't deal with the extreme stresses i've got. 

fast-forward to when i was 14, depression kicks in and that's when the voices started to gets worst. i became fearful to go to school and i could still remember that i cried almost every morning and begs my mom not to send me to school. it's crazy, y'see, thinking about it. i felt like my life were depended on her choice. if she made me go to school, my life's gonna end. i would often call in sick for school and my teachers were curious ; some didn't says anything but they knew something was not right. until my mom couldn't take it anymore, she made the final decision to stop me schooling. she wrote a letter, i offer the letter to my teachers and well, they're shocked. 

"Khadijah, this is not a joke. do you know, the effect of not going to school could scarred your life?" she says. i could remember clearly what she told me, up till now. i remembered clearly how i kept quiet at those times and i remembered that was my last day at school before i completely stopped myself from coming. 

a day turns to a week, a week turns to a months, a months turns to a year. i completely stop myself from going out unless to check the mailbox or go for hospital appointments which i forced myself. 

they had a counseller to step in to begged me to go back to school, they asked sorts of questions like, "why do you stop?", "did anyone bullies you?". it's crazy. school counsellers, family counsellers, hospital counsellers, my former psychologist had to step in and "forces" me to get back to school. 

so they did. they won. i went back but this time, i showed fear. i remembered how i shook so crazy that i couldn't even looked up to see who hold me. my legs were wobbly. the voices, the voices were loud. i could remember what the voices told me. 

- TRIGGER WARNING - 

"You are weak." 

"You are useless." 

"Look at those people. They must think that you are dumb. Look at their eyes. Eyes full of disgust." 

"Go home. Don't come back." 

"Kill yourself."

"Why didn't you see how un-important you are? Your friends left you. Your teachers left you. So why must you live?" 

it was so overwhelmed that i took my first blade, cut my skin, left a mark. they've once said that once you took something that is considered addictive to others, it will be addictive to you, too. i've never thought it would affect me. i would honestly confess that doing what i did, which is to self-harm sounds stupid but it isn't stupid to me and to others who suffer from mental illness. if you are in our shoes, you will know why we had to do it, as for now, i cannot briefly explains why. 

it keeps repeating the same thing over and over again until i couldn't take it, i told my mom to send me to the emergency room (which is IMH) as i was afraid that i would do something far more worst than i do. 

the voices left a deep impression on me. it gaves me scar, it destroy my life, it destroy my childhood. i would say it wasn't a gift. i would say that i am not crazy. the people who undergoes through this aren't crazy. i wouldn't labelled myself and the people is crazy. why? crazy for being able to hear what people can't? 

hearing voices is what made me feel troubled. feel that what i am doing wasn't worth. i am not gonna lie, the voices came back. it came back. i hated the fact that i could hear and understand what it says and believes it more than what people says. i chose not to disbelief because if i do, it got stronger. i know this is fucking insane but i just can't help it. 

the Voices became my friend. my only friend who could be with me, always.