Having schizophrenia but being aware of when I’m hallucinating is such a fucking trip because just because I know I’m hallucinating doesn’t make the hallucinations any less horrifying.
The faces in the hydrangea bushes still make me sprint the rest of the way to my door. The calls, and whistles, and whispers still having my turning my headphones all the way up.
And currently the man standing in front of my bedroom door staring both directly into my soul and yet 1000 years away still makes me fear for my life as he would if he were real. But he isn’t, and I know he would either dissipate as I got closer to him or I would simply be able to reach though him and open the door if I so wished. But in my mind and in my heart I feel like if I tried to get up to go upstairs that he would stand, staring, his body and unmoving object in my path that I could do nothing about.
I know he is not real, but still he is there, and still I am scared.