Not into Fantasy Stories~

I have never been into writing about Fantasy topics. I feel having schizophrenia, I live enough in a fantasy world.

Hearing voices is not normal. I learned that from my therapist Stacey. I never told anyone i heard voices when i was younger, because i thought, everyone heard them.

I used to see my name written all over the place. On rugs, couches, clothes tags, notebooks, lockers….turns out that wasnt true.

My therapist Danielle told me that.

Sue is the therapist that first told me i had OCD. I never thought obsessing over time and such, is OCD.

I dont like reading about fairies and dragons.

I prefer reality books. Things that could happen in REAL life. Thats why i write about teen moms and eating disorders. That’s my passions.




I plan an escape route!

I always get nervous waiting in the lobby at my therapy appointments. I jiggle my leg anxiously as other patients sit in there with me.

I pray someone doesnt have a gun and will shot me. I fear that every time. I plan my escape route in my head.

I request a downstairs room to have therapy for that reason. If I need a quick escape, i need to be down stairs, not three stories up.

When they call my name, i jump up quickly and follow my therapist to the room.

I am so paranoid that there are cameras watching me. Or people standing outside the door listening.

I dont like when people talk about me.

My Head was FULL of voices!!!~

I looked at her, but couldnt hear her. My head was FULL of voices. It was like the voices in my head choose that moment to all talk at once!

I was in therapy. I was on a fluffy couch across from my therapist who had a notebook. I HATE when people write about me… u never know what they will write.

Not only was I hearing voices, but i was seeing things too.

I saw my name, in cursive all over my therapist’s rug.

“Why did you do that?” I asked her angrily.


i pointed to the rug. I got nervous, too many words!!

I left the office. My Dad was in the waiting room. I walked past him and left the building.

He and my therapist came after me. They stopped me before i reached the street.

They loaded me into the car…. Dad drove me home and i never saw that therapist again…

45 minutes to talk about whatever!!!

I start with my new therapist in one week from today. I am nervous but excited. I hope to look at my issues through someone else’s point of view.

I am buying a new notebook and pen specially for our sessions.

I Made a list what i want to talk about. I hope i like this new lady. My last therapist was awesome.

The biggest thing we accomplished was getting me to truly understand i was not an 11 year old trapped in a 28 year old body.

I also dont call Mom 23 times a day when i am out. ONly one or two. Thats a big deal!

Anyways. I take therapy seriously. Its 45 minutes every other week that i can just talk about anything i want.

Its pretty cool.

“I need help” I whispered

Lisa always had her eyes on me. She watched my every move. It was a little irritating considering there were 13 other patients in the out patient program.

When i was having a psychotic episode, she sat me in a chair and watched me freak out. I could feel it in my brain.

I started to rip out my hair. Lisa swore and grabbed my arm, saying “I have had enough!”

I am being dead serious when i say i was not trying to get her angry.

They had me on the wrong meds.

We went to her office. The voices in my head egged me on!

I grabbed her stapler and threatened that would staple my hand.

“Do it” Lisa sat back to watch. I was confused.

I put the stapler back.

“That’s what  i thought” Lisa shook her head.

“I need help” i whispered. The first words i have EVER spoken to her.

“I know honey” She said gentler. “We will figure this out”

She hugged me and everything was okay.

He MADE sure i ate.

I had a routine. A bad one. I was 16 years old in an out patient therapy group. We met every day all day for 1 month.

I missed a month of school.

My routine, was my step Mom driving me to therapy. I was always the first.

I would go right to the bathroom to throw up my breakfast.

I sat in the same chair everyday and freaked out if someone else sat in my seat.

I refused to talk. It was a LONG month. I didnt eat lunch. One day we had a treat, the staff were going to buy us McDonald’s. Since i had an eating disorder, i didnt order anything.

The staff started to notice that i was not eating and told Dad.

So every day after therapy, Dad would bring me to DD’s to get a muffin. He MADE sure i ate it.

So i did.

But, when i got home, i threw it ALL up!

I Couldnt help it! I was losing weight and loved it! I felt happy!

When i was admitted into the in patient program, they were a LOT stricter.

I was watched while using the bathroom, soooo embarrassing!

BUt i over came my issues.


I have issues, sorry.

I had an awkward visit with a therapist in the past. It was my first session. The first thing i asked her was to keep the door open 5 inches.


Why do they have to ask, im in therapy doesnt that tell you i have issues?

anyways, she did leave the door open.

I sat on the couch facing her. She had a notebook. I really dont like therapists writing about me when i cant read it.

She asked me my diagnosis and address

“OCD, Anxiety and Schizophrenia” i said. I looked around the room.

“What are you seeing?” SHe asked me.


“Nothing” I said immediately.

Truth was, i was seeing Cereal. He appears at the worst moments.

My therapist asked my address 5 times! I dont know why!

Was she testing me? I am not stupid.

I felt really uncomfortable, so i never went back.

Then i got a new therapist who was not the greatest. I was happy when she left and i got yet another therapist.

This one i loved! She was smart and professional.


Then she left.

I am back to square one.. i start with another new therapist in 2 weeks. Hope she’s good.