The Voices

Joanna

Sometimes I feel like the demons inside me will take over. Like I will give in to the voices inside my head. To the temptation they cause. I promised I wouldn't give in so many times, and so many times have I kept my promise. But sometimes, it is impossible. Impossible to resist the urge of giving in. Of listening to those voices. Of doing what those voices tell me to do. Insanity is something that's impossible to cure. You're just born with it. Simply born with it. Since I can remember, I have always heard voices inside my head. Voices that tell me what to do. Voices that at times I can't control. I can't control what they tell me. I can't stop myself at times. Sometimes I want to be deaf so that I don't have to hear them. So that I don't have to resist the urge of doing what they tell me. At times, it is impossible. Impossible. Absolutely impossible. Since I was a young child, I've always heard them. I used to always give in, too pressured by them. And sometimes, I still do, too. I can remember how I pushed my sister off a tree and laughed when I heard her bones cracking. One of her ribs broke. My parents used to believe that I was simply making up things for attention, saying I heard voices to get attention. But, after that incident, they decided to get me some serious medical help. 

"Joanna... Don't give in. Don't let them control you," I was told. "Don't let them define who you are, who you will become. It's up to you whether you will let them take control of you, or whether you will live a normal life, ignoring those voices." But, no, they didn't understand. They didn't understand that sometimes, it's the voices that take control of me. It's the voices who tell me what to do. It's the voices who sometimes take control of me. It's the voices that sometimes let themselves be visible to the world. It's the voices who have always defined me. It's them who can make me do things against my will. It's them who are always living inside me. Who have always lived inside me. Who will always live inside me. Everyone has told me not to pay attention to them, but what they never understand, is that I can hear them. That they're part of me. And there's no possibility to get them to leave.

They have always managed to get out, to reveal themselves to the world, while I tried to keep them hidden. At school, no one wanted to get close to me. All because of the voices. The voices that I have always lived with. The voices that at times control me. The voices sometimes I cannot ignore. The voices are part of me. The voices I can't get rid of. They come with me everywhere, they've haunted my life since youth. I had to leave school when I was young, aged around seven or eight. It was all because the voices took control of me. I strangled another child, and laughed when their face became purple. It was then that I was kicked out. It was then when I felt that those voices would always define me. Would always remove the possibility of feeling like I belong somewhere. I became homeschooled after that, devoting myself in my reading, as it makes the voices seem quieter. It distracts me from them.

My therapy was helping, but the voices were still there. They were telling me to harm others, to do things I didn't want to do. Each time, it seemed as if they were telling me to do worse things. I feel like they can destroy me. Like they can ruin my life. Which they have. They always have haunted me. Always. I often found myself taking medication, usually after I had let the voices take over. But, that isn't the type of life I want. I want joy. I want happiness. But sometimes, the only way of achieving joy is doing what these voices tell me. Harming others. I hate to say this, I hate to write this, I hate to admit it, but I found such pleasure when I've given in. Such pleasure. Such joy. Such thrilling insanity. It was thanks to the voices, to my lack of self-control, to my inability to continue ignoring them, that I ended up taking my own sister's life. I don't know how it happened, how I could bring myself to do such a thing... Or maybe I do know how it happened, or why it happened, but I'd rather not admit it. I'd rather forget it. It was a hot August day, and, maybe it was the heat, maybe it was how much time I had lasted without giving in, without obeying the voices, that I killed her. I couldn't help it.

I was sent to an asylum, for "everyone's good." I was medicated. Constantly. Days seemed like dreams in such a loneliness. Visits weren't allowed. I feel like these voices will forever define me. Will forever make me known as a monster. At least, that's how I felt at such a place. That's how I feel everywhere. Like I'm a monster. Like I'm a plague that must be avoided. Like I'm deadly. That I'm insane. I know I am insane. I know it is impossible to cure. I know, I know that I will have to live with this forever. But, can't I stop this feeling. Can't I have friends? Can't I have people around me? It took me so much effort to prove myself "normal." To prove that I am able to blend in with a crowd. To prove that I'm really not that dangerous. That I'm simply misunderstood. I'm living with voices inside my head. I always have. But, does that mean I'm not human? Does that mean I'm a monster? 

It took me twice the effort to get myself a job. To go to college. To let all the voices inside me remain unknown. It is a constant struggle to go to work. A constant struggle to keep those voices hidden. To act like I'm normal. To act like my reality is not different than yours. It's difficult, it's very challenge. I hope willpower will always do the thing. I hope so. But I know I'll eventually break.

My name is Joanna Bridges. Would you treat me differently if my reality were the same as yours?