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On Ordering Psychological “Disorders”

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I hear voices in my head.

I have my entire life.

I had never, for one moment, considered myself to be abnormal, but when people like my ex-wife, Lisa, told me “I think too much”, I did not disagree.

These voices soothed and comforted me when I was down. They insulted me when I was losing control of my weight. They shamed me when I lost control with my addiction to cocaine. They dared me to walk around my apartment complex naked with a hard on at 2 in the morning. And they encouraged me to make decisions I otherwise wanted to but lacked the courage to knowing what I was doing was right by me.

Sometimes the voices will come with images being flashed to me. Images of me ‘doing’ the things I’m being dared to do. Images of me being gratified after putting something I don’t want to do behind me.

Sometimes the voices and imagery become overwhelming and it feels like ‘other parts’ of my body are overriding my rationalism. When I have gone without masturbating for too long for instance, every attractive woman becomes a piece of raw meat in front of a rabid dog. I’ll see a woman and then images will be flashed of seeing her walking across the room butt ass naked. Or seeing her legs up in the air as I am thrusting inside her in the back of her car.

Fortunately, the ‘males think about sex once every 6 seconds’ is absolute crap, I frequently go days without thinking about it.

The voices aren’t always kind. The drug addiction for instance was in no small part due to my body image – which at the time was dismal, and I do not doubt that my drug addiction was in part an autonomic response on my part to shut the voices up.

Sometimes the voices will sing to me. I’ll wake up with a song going on in my head.

For instance, this morning it was a song about rain I can’t remember who sung, and a couple nights ago it was “I’m on top of world looking down on creation it’s the only explanation I can find…”. Often times it will be the Bee Gee’s (Stayin alive), other times it will be Neil Diamond (Turn on your Heartlight). Sometimes it’s Katy Perry, other times it’s Metallica or Megadeath. Sometimes it’s Joe Satriani on guitar.

This has all been perfectly normal to me and has been my entire life.

I will talk to the voices quite often, having long conversations in my head that I won’t say a word out loud. Normally I am just appearing pensive, but these esoteric conversations can be about anything. Whether it’s how cute a woman is or how much I would like to be holding Jackie and Rachel and developing this fantasy life with them. Or it’s working through a problem and planning something. Or it’s simply discussing the stars and shapes I see at night in the sky.

The voices come in many forms too. Females. Males. If it’s someone I know, I hear the words spoken in their voice. I hear the same voice as if I was reading something said by that particular person.

Normally, I don’t see the imagery with my eyes open, but I frequently see extremely vivid imagery with my eyes closed – particularly when I am very tired. The imagery can be anything, from seeing myself without a spacesuit from high above Earth, to having a conversation with a friend such as Ricardo, to highly sexual situations, whether it’s reliving moments I have already encountered or situations I have yet to encounter.

Sometimes the imagery is grainy, like muddled black and white with not recognizable people and places. And other times it is lifelike. The imagery is NOT always accompanied with sound, and similarly, the sounds are not always accompanied with the visuals.

Sometimes, the sounds and visuals can be random and (fortunately) sometimes but rarely they are REAL annoying. Whether it’s a dog’s single loud bark next to my tent in the middle of the night, or it’s a particularly ingratiating voice of an ex, these annoyances are almost never combined with visual elements.

One time, for about a week, I was hearing real dog barks from the parking lot but when I closed my eyes, I could see a string of ‘Vulcan’ (from Star Trek) calligraphy.

Only for a week.

Sometimes – but not frequently – the voices are outside of me. Much like my mind is practicing ventriloquism and ‘throwing’ the voice outside my body. This can be disconcerting and unexpected sometime, so I am learning to control this better. VERY rarely the same thing happens with imagery.

I suspect many things I see outside my body others cannot actually see, and while it’s not exactly a conspiracy, that many ‘act’ – gauge their reactions as if whoever or whatever I am talking to is actually there. Perpetuating the illusion, you could say, and I suspect oftentimes by engaging directly with my mind to keep this going.

I’m finding myself talking to these voices a lot lately. Jackie and Rachel, both, are regulars ‘in my head’ but both play different roles which is why I discuss them so much.

Jackie’s voice is always accompanied by visuals, and most of the time we’re just hanging out. Sure, it’s sexual sometimes, but not that frequently, it’s more us just hanging out at various locations we’ve been before or have yet to go to.

Rachel’s voice – if alone – is usually disembodied. Rarely, and I do mean rarely, is her voice accompanying of her body. I find it very bizarre there’s such a difference between the two, but then again I had much longer and repeated exposure to Jackie than I did with Rachel

The two often appear ‘together’ – which is why I often discuss them as partners.

It’s less about fantasy, and more about taking what I see in my mind and simply enjoying it in the real world.

About a year ago, I applied for social security disability, because I know, while I do not, most people regard my condition as being a problem. I will be the first to admit it’s effected my work and has definitely made me difficult to get along with on occasion.

I told the psychologist in an interview I’m God, and that I hear voices all the time. I told him they only rarely ask me or tell me to kill or hurt someone, but with the rare exception that I fought with these voices in the desert that looked straight out of Terminator where I attempted suicide, I am not that foolish enough to follow up on that.

And I explained this all with utter sincerity. I am not lying about any of it.

The administration reported back that there’s nothing wrong with me.

Prior to all this – I had never really considered myself… disabled.

I still don’t.

I regard this as a gift.

I don’t have to interrupt the real lives of the women I want to spend time with. If I can control this gift, I can teach my mind to provide me a simulated experience with the women who have long since moved on from me in my life.

I suspect people around me will act with consistency to me and what I observe. That’s an egocentric model of the universe, for sure, but if Jackie and Rachel show up and they are merely a product of my own mind that others do not see, then others simply will not respond to my often indulgent illusions I wish to engage in.

Either way, it’s a win/win for me, whether they are illusion or not, and to these women, who have no desire to communicate let alone participate with me in my life, it mitigates the risk of me and the energy I emit to the universe to satisfy my indulgences.

I have come to regard multiple personality disorder and schizophrenia as having two potential forms:

It’s a disorder if you lack the control and desire to shape the diagnosis into something usable and fun.

It’s perfectly normal and healthy if you have the desire and are willing to learn how to control it to make it usable and fun.

It’s like a mini superpower. If someone you love is sick and tired of you.

Or they have long since passed away.

There’s no reason that you consciously, have to be made aware of what your subconscious mind is doing to make life more enjoyable.

And once you realize what your mind’s doing.

There’s no reason that you, consciously, should not be given the permission to indulge with this part of your mind that can actually create waking dreams.

Baby steps, I suppose.

What is reality other than that which we create for ourselves?

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