A Christmas Wish

His aftermath (Part II)

Brown

24 December 2002 (11 years old)

The doctor called my condition schizophrenia but I didn’t really understand what it means. I mean I didn’t understand what it means scientifically but the experience is vivid. When it strikes, I don’t even feel it or know it, so do the people around me.

I went online and did a small research this morning. Schizophrenia basically means a ‘split mind’ but it has more to do with splitting from the reality.

It’s true. I hear voices every night, surrounding my bed. They were not the type of kind-hearted spirits or imaginary friend that you see in movies. They were more abusive, complicated. Sometimes you get the same voices over and over whereas sometimes you get a coalition of deafening sound. The doctor told mum that they were non-existent but why are they so real when they were not actually there?

Frustration and anger bubbled up my throat when I think of my condition. Counselling, taking medicines, so much needed to be done just to control my sickness. I am a mental patient, that doesn’t mean condition is under my control. It may be just as deadly as cancer, AIDS and all other terrifying diseases you can think of.

The doctor said my condition will most probably worsen as time passes. My delusions, hallucinations, virtual reality will not dissipate but solidify. My fragmented speech and thoughts that make mum’s face goes green can’t be cured nor eradicated.

The time is now 11pm but I am struggling to go to sleep. The doctor mentioned that it is yet another side effect of schizophrenia. A million thoughts are going through my mind right now but I find it hard to pin each down and put them into words. I feel like my mind is made out of many broken spotlights, instead of guiding me, they are blinding me.

I can’t find my way out.

I’m trying hard. I really am.

Why me?

Why did this happen to me?