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Schizoaffective Disorder or Telepathy?

This morning while I was chanting I heard a voice that sounded like it was coming from outside my bedroom window. They said, Either give up chanting or give up the book. That’s not unreasonable is it? I kept chanting. I have not given up on my book either. It reminded me of when my voices were trying to get me to negotiate an agreement with them a month or so ago. They kept telling me to either stop chanting, or to choose between chanting and earning an income. A couple of times I actually did try to make an agreement with them. It didn’t work. Nothing changed, and I realized afterward how ridiculous it really was. How can you negotiate with invisible people, people who only exist in my head? There is no way to reason with them. It doesn’t work. I have tried repeatedly to make sense of the situation, but I have never been able to. My therapist has told me not to try to reason with the voices because they aren’t rational. This is very true.

I was driving to the bookstore this morning after I finished chanting. In the car I was thinking about how I would start my memoir and how I would approach certain aspects of my past involving other people. As I stepped out of the car, I heard another voice say, See how foolish you are? Meaning that it would be foolish to try and write a memoir about my experiences since it might identify other people who were a part of my life during those times. I don’t plan to identify anyone by name. I haven’t decided yet about locations, or even whether to use my real name. So far, I’ve kept my identity pretty much hidden. It’s almost as if my voices are afraid of being identified.

In the past, I’ve often thought that maybe I really don’t have schizoaffective disorder. Maybe I just became telepathic in 2002, and there really are people following me around, talking to me in my head. The voices have said this to me as well. I’ve never mentioned this to anyone because no one would believe me. One time I tried to convince my husband that the voices I were hearing were real. He didn’t believe me. I think this is why when I tell him what I hear, he always says, “You know they aren’t real don’t you?”. I always reassure him that I know they aren’t real, that they are just symptoms of the illness, and that I continue to ignore them. There isn’t much else I can do.

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