Connection chapter 1

Hello dear readers,

My name is Elizabeth Jones. I'm not anything adventurous or anything. No special magical powers. Just plan old 23 year old women. A virgin woman at that. I am 5"3 British American, blonde straight hair and completely baby faced. I was a resent mental patient for the fact of my only odd flaw. I have romantic feelings for my conscious. Let call him phill; he doesn't know I have a hormone teenage driven crush on him. He lives in Virginia which is all away across the country. I'm here is ocean side California where the beaches was basically where I live in the summer or oddly hot winter days. We spend our time continuing to mentally chat to each other constantly.

The first time this happened was when I was 4 years old while I was my grandparents house. Being how young I was my family thought nothing of it. Me and him constantly gave each other advice on what actions we should take. His being more planned out and safe while mine where trouble maker's pranks. As I got older my father started to get worried. When I was 10 my father started making me go to a therapist and psychologist who both decided I have schizophrenia. From that day I was known as a freak by my cousins and peers.

The more my school and social life down the drain I started blogging about my love story and people started getting interested. Now it's a hobby when I'm not working at the waffle cafe/coffee house. It's been a year and my soulmate across the country doesn't know I exist. People think he's crazy when he's not.

Well enough of that soulmate lovey dovey mental crap now, let's start with why I'm actually taking a therapist's advice and make another blog writing about my journey living with schizophrenia. So I'll be telling you play by play of my life.

At 7:00 a.m. I wake up and have a glass of milk from my small kitchen area in my parents basement. Then I fix my bed whistling it's my life by Bon jovi. Then I play my iTunes of sterling musical sounds while heating up my hot pockets. While I wait for the delicious hot nutrients I open my computer and log into my blogs. Then my hot pockets are done then I eat and take a shower to begin my day.

10 a.m. I start my make up tutorial. My eyeshadow videos are usually based off of Disney films. Mostly wonderland since it seems the most popular toy viewers. Then I drink my peach flavored tea and do my hair tutorial. Usually dealing with ribbons and braids. Which get's everyone excited for weird cute outfits for the day. Today was Cookie Monster. I had a undershirt and a Cookie Monster long sleeve shirt and cookie leggings. My hair is braided with tiny bow tie shape ribbons in them. I'm also wearing my dark chocolate brown. Usually my bloggers reblog my selfie which I always thought they are close friends.

At 12:00 P.m. my mother brings me my medicine and food that I requested for today. Which today was a chicken salad with a Hershey cheese cake. Then I take my Medicine while making little pouty noises which my mom always rolls her eyes to. Then I watch little kid shows with my baby sister. Her brown wavy hair and blue eyes always took my breath away. Phil always says that he wishes he could be her brother. I usually giggle and then my parents take away my little grace. I usually take a nap while conversations with Phil in my head. He usually tells me how he saw through my eyes that day. He usually laughs when I have tea parties with grace when she asks. I usually giggle and slowly lull myself to sleep with the thoughts of Phil's words.

4:00p.m. My dad wakes me up and asks about my day. I usually don't tell him I still talk to Phil. I tell him the basic. The little high lights of my day that help me stay semi sane. He pats my back and says baby steps. Gives me his worn out smile and pick up grace from the tiny reading nook I made. She usually was asleep and I was left alone. I usually blogged and write about my conversation of early said Phil. I answer some questions and interact with my online family. They seemed closer then any blood related homo sapiens pack of mine.