Yesterday the plastic ducks floating in my bath witnessed a traumatic sight, a pathetic sight: me crouched in a warm bubble bath, crying and rocking backwards and forwards, a refrain running through my head, ‘You are an ugly old witch…you are an ugly old witch…you have no place on this planet.’ I was pummeling my round zyprexa tummy (It was as flat as a washboard before I started taking those things), karate chopping my thighs and pulling at my hair. I am a beached whale. At one point the voice in my head told me I was a witch and should be burnt at the stake. I want my benevolent voices back. I wonder where they’ve gone. Where do disembodied voices go to die? Is there a hell for the malevolent ones and a heaven for the benign ones? I just want them out of my head.
Tags: bodyshock, desperation, fear, self reproach, voices in head, zyprexa
October 16, 2010 at 12:54 pm
Hey,
I really like your blog, you really express something so unique to each person with creativity and honesty.
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October 17, 2010 at 12:15 pm
*hugs*
Poor Louise.
I hope things get better soon.
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