I had never told anyone that I have been hearing voices inside my head, at least not since yesterday (march 20th). Mr. Black is what I call him, he has no real name, yet I found it fitting to call him something. He is a very malicious person, but yet he can be so soothing as well. He knows so much about me, knows how I think, knows how I look-up to my father, knows how I fear him. It’s like he is a reflection of myself. That’s because he is. His voice was very distorted and somewhat deeper than my own, but it was definitely my own voice! The familiar sound of my tone, the same vocabulary, and even the same saying as catches that I use. There is no doubt that it’s my voice, but Mr. Black is NOT me.
It’s like he is a reflection of myself. That’s because he is.
Hence the reason I call him Mr. Black. He has been in my mind for quite some time now, in grades 3-4 and in junior high, was when he began to really start and talk with me. Not having any "real" friends, even now, but especially when I was younger. Mr. Black became my only true friend. He was always there, always willing to talk, and always willing to listen, so long as it was something that he wanted. He can get very violent and yells at me when I don’t listen. He has told me to not tell ANYBODY that he exists. When I told someone that he did exist, he yelled so loud that it made my head hurt, then he continued to tell me, " You have really made me mad! I WILL kill your loved ones, and you want to know how? I am going to make you do it! If you resist you will only make it worse, because you will snap, and when you do...you will kill them. You WILL do what I want you to do!" Mr. Black said many other things, including telling me to kill myself and others I don’t even know. As I type now, I am in the hospital, getting help for these voices. They gave me a yellow pill-like medication, it melts on your tongue and tastes sweet. It stops Mr. Black from talking for a long time, and only lets the whispers through. The whispers I can handle, at least so long as I am active and don’t have time to think too much.
When I was younger I simply went along with the voices. Yes they taunted and called me names and laughed at me, but not as often as they do now. Right now they are just too much to handle. It makes me want to kill myself, but yet there is still that tiny, tiny, speck of hope. I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s all I have left now, all I have to live for. I just hope I can hold on long enough to keep my mind in check. The whispers are like a group of passionate fans of Mr. Black. Mocking me and cheering him on or putting me down. They have nothing to talk to me about, so long as Mr. Black is gone. When he IS gone, they simply whisper and weep, asking me to talk to them, to engage them, or they will tell their friend Mr. Black that I have been mean and bad to them. Only when I sleep do I find solace and escape, but the whispers, and Mr. Black's constant threats and violent suggestions, make sleep almost impossible to obtain on my own accord. I wake up tired and exhausted every day almost, the only thing I can think of is that I passed out from shear lack of energy, and then the voices start about 10 min after I wake. Gradually they start, then Mr. Black shows up, then they get to their, now more constantly loud, level of tone and volume. They ask me how I slept and then they ask me why I didn’t kill myself the previous day. I tell them every time they ask " I don’t know" and they respond with " we will always be here, and the only way to escape is to die. want to know how you can do that?" and I try my best to resist it. Well now you know a little bit about what I am going through. I just hope this time in the hospital can help me FINALY shut them up for GOOD!
- by Chris D., age 18