Several times I heard someone call my name. Also
when there was no one around me. The pronunciation was slow and
whispering, the voice distant. For an event that happened to me before
four years old, only my mother knows or is the only one who believes me.
I have already shared my experience with someone else, but I got it
the feeling that no one believes me. Four years ago I was in the evening
in the house alone with her pain, because her parents were getting divorced and she did
father moved away. My mother was not at home, but I went to bed in
hoping that he returns home safely. I’ve been worried a lot lately
for her, because she was emaciated, helpless, and wherever she went, she ate me
was afraid that something would be done to her. When I was lying down, I suddenly
heard loud and hysterical female screams. The screams continued
more and more intense, and a child’s cry echoed in the background. Saddles
I got on the bed, pressed my knees to myself and covered myself with my palms
ears. I cried out loud and then I felt like I was
crazy. Crying hysterically, I called my mother and asked her
to return home. She came as fast as she could and when she stepped
through the front door, all voices fell silent. That was terrible for me
and harrowing experience. I never heard from her again after that incident
something similar. To this day, I think a lot about this event.
I came to the conclusion that it was my inner voice and the sound of me
pain. Maybe I was the woman screaming in pain,
and the child who cried because he was lonely.


Through reading the literature, I realized that I myself belong
into the “hearing voices” category. To me, that’s something
self-evident – hearing your thoughts and talking to yourself –,
which is supposed to be characteristic of only a part of all people. This fact bothers me a lot
surprised, namely that approximately half of the people did not have
this voice, because I can’t imagine thinking without it.
I myself am quite satisfied with my voices, because I like them very much
I talk to myself and look at situations from different perspectives
angles. However, they are sometimes quite unpleasant, as they tell me,
how bad I am, that I am guilty of something, that I am ugly, etc. Often
there are two voices in me, both of which I experience as myself.
One part of me says nasty things to me, the other calms me down.
It’s like the first part is “the child in me” while the second part is
“adult self”. I often find myself conflicted about which of these
voices to believe, especially when it comes to me and my self-image.
I agree with the thesis that voices tell us something and that they
we must listen. I believe that through my votes I can
I can see when I am in an internal conflict, I also find out where I am
I feel more and sometimes less confident, but at the same time with them
deepening my thinking about myself and others. Still, though
I think these voices can also paralyze us; it happens to me
it happens when the “child in me” wins over and over when I let go
only to hate and convince myself how incompetent I am.
However, my experience has never seemed so terrible as that
the experiences of others that I read about. Here I would highlight an example,
when voices tell someone to kill someone. My experience is
far from being so severe, mainly because its own
I perceive the voices as my own, despite their daily frequency
thoughts, as a part of myself, even if they are negative (obviously I heard them
from whom in the course of his life and internalized them). This is because
because I’ve been experiencing it for as long as I can remember, and at the same time I hear them in mine
head, with my voice (only their tone changes).


“WHO ARE YOU?” I ask the voice in my head.
“Why don’t you leave me alone for once?”
The voice does not obey. He keeps telling me how smart he thinks it is
I seal my pain by torturing myself. To everyone
the way would like to derail me. First of all, he is very quiet, on his toes
sneaks into my mind. If I get in a bad mood, it stops
louder. If I pick myself up off the floor, leave me alone. And he didn’t answer
for quite a long time. 3 years to be exact.
Lately, however, he has been coming closer to me again. He’s trying to penetrate mine
heal part of the psyche and appropriate it. He invites me to the grotesque
the embrace of its long claws, which contract so convulsively
towards the goal. The reason he came so close to me is probably sex
somewhere in my emotional sphere. As usual.
I’m thinking about who could represent the villain who attacks me every time
so many come to visit. A few days ago I voiced this
listened with a pinch of common sense. I found out that I am the one
the villain is actually me. I’m talking to myself in the third person. Ob
I shudder to think that I am my own biggest obstacle. In mine
I can communicate with my head only in extremes. When it’s good, it is
really good. When it’s bad, it’s only a matter of time. sometimes i wish
that my brain would just explode. To be able to stay without
your thoughts. That she could remain without herself – even in this place
the voice sings. He is happy because he has reached his goal. I finally feel
bad. So bad I’m almost choking on my own tears. Pain
it occupies every cell of my body. I’m slowly collapsing on my own
to yourself. It’s like my insides are dying bit by bit.
I believe him. I really believe the voice that I have sinned.
At this point, I am left with only one option: to
sin(s) I punish. I’ve been doing this for years, so it’s not even for me
such a surprise that sooner or later with my bad mood it comes to
of this. Inciting by my voice in my mind the whole thing
brings to a completely different level. I take the blades in my hands and aim at myself
wound. And one more. And one more. I keep doing it until I don’t
wake up a bad conscience. This is my way of sobering up. I stop and
I’m panting. My mind goes blank. The voice went away. He came back
into the dark underworld. I can finally continue with mine in peace
stay. Now I can get back on the leash again, s
which the superego guides me around.
In reality, I am spinning in a completely deranged vicious circle, from
which I can’t get out. I’m so in control that I don’t
I can live more spontaneously. But the moments when in my head
the voice enters, they are without any control. A world of imagination that is
full of irony, it guides me through life. At this moment, I
the face draws a smile. What I can’t get enough of is finding out that they are
my bad moments basically good. The voice I’ve had for so many years
accepted as her attacker, she only wants good for me. Calls to
help. Will I be able to listen to him one day?

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