Voices in the downstairs loo.

I have suffered from mental illness since I was a young child. for as long as i can remember I have had a large appetite for self suffering and denial of happiness and self worth. I would deny myself going to parties or having my friends over to play, even though deep down I wanted these things to happen, the voice in my head wouldn’t allow me the pleasure. I had an imaginary friend when I was very little, a mouse that lived in the downstairs toilet at my Grans house. I remember how I used to sit in there and talk to him regularly. Once he asked me to write swear words all over the walls in pen. Another time he told me to leave the house and go up onto the local hill. I went out without telling anyone I was gone. I was only 4 years old and I got lost, 2 hours later I was found by my uncle sat on a felled tree crying my eyes out.

I’m not sure when my imaginary friend disappeared from my life or whether he just grew with me and became my subconscious voice in my head. One thing is certain though my capacity for self loathing grew and grew. There is currently no bigger enemy to me than myself. A prisoner of my own thoughts.

Recently things came to a head and caught up with me in a spectacular fashion. Through a massive drug induced psychotic episode. I wont go in to the full details of that at the moment. It was a big wake up call and I am now seeking help to get to the bottom of why I keep having these issues with my mental state. I got the wake up call I needed. I’m hoping that over time and by vocalizing whats going on in my head and writing things like this blog I can help myself to a better state of mind and work out how to love myself .





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