The Voices Haunted Me, until one day... Sleep Saved Me!

Written by Brigitte Davies                                                        

Dear Diary,

  I am developing serious trouble sleeping ever since my neighbor shared with me that she caught a virus and is bed ridden. She needs my help to take care of errands. I feel frustrated and hostile. Ever since my neighbor asked me for help; I cannot sleep. I cannot believe she actually has the nerve to ask me to help her. "Everyone knows about my condition, don't they?" I slam the front door and watch the screen fall to the ground. I decide to march myself inside to write.

  I begin my diary with the truth. Here it is! "I am terrified of germs, people,death, and bugs. I am afraid of loud noises and large open spaces." The doctors recommend I set some small goals. So, I decide to stay home and start taking care of myself and perhaps I can get some sleep. I am going to make a point to decrease the stress in my life and work on my fears.

   Presently, I wear a navy cloth that wraps around the lower portion of my face. This assists in preventing germs from entering through my mouth. I bought a pair of latex gloves to prevent any additional germs from entering my body and I also wear a cotton hat. On the outside; I feel safe. But inside; I am scared and hurting.

I also keep a pair of tinted glasses handy, right by the front door because I do not want people to recognize me IF I step outside. I struggle with so many fears.And these fears keep me prisoner.But my hope is one day to be set free.

  Some people tell me I resemble a character out of a fiction novel. But I don’t mind. Yet, inside, I remain deathly afraid of life. I remain afraid of my neighbor. I am afraid of germs and just about everything else. I try my best not to be afraid, but I am.I am afraid. I want the fear to end one day and finally to be set free.

  In spite of all my fears, I still manage to enjoy some aspects of life. However, I no longer date or go out in public much.I feel safer at home and somehow it suits my needs. I live in a virtual world now.

  Therapy has not helped me much but I remain hopeful. I talk to the doctors over the phone. I am learning to relax and recite chants. One meditative chant goes like this: ”I have no fear. Fear is an illusion.”

  I fear germs big time.I am afraid of dying and fear being abandoned. One part of the doctor's orders is for me to write. So, I write. I write to my friends. I write to the doctors. I write to everyone. I write to everyone I think will read my writing. "How can I heal? What does it feel like to be normal? Help me, someone! Please!"

I write and request some prescription drugs to block out the voices. I feel if the voices are blocked out; I might sleep. But the doctors remind me that drugs are addicting. They remind me of all my problems. The last problem I need right now is to become addicted to pills. They worry about me developing another addiction however, I worry about not getting sleep. Then a voice calls to me, informing me to mail out a few more letters, immediately.

  I grab my spray bottle using the latex gloves and then squirt a drop of water on the stamp and place the stamp on my last pink envelope. I am deathly afraid of germs; always have been. In addition, my germs will possibly contaminate other people too.

When I am ready to mail my letters, first I check out my window to make sure there are no people outside. When it looks safe; I carefully open the door and keep guard. When the coast is clear; I make a bad dash outside and down the driveway, praying the entire time no one sees me or tries to talk to me. I, simultaneously pray my fears will one day disappear. I pray one day to know what it feels like to be "normal."

   In a letter to my best friend, I write very specific instructions for him. In case of death or illness he needs to know about my situation and the routine.I write out in specific detail more instructions in regards to taking care of my pets. After thinking about a few more essential notes regarding my life style; the letter is ready to go in the mailbox.

  I brainwash myself being sleep deprived is a gift. I stay up, write and work on lots of short term goals. One small goal is getting rid of any hidden anger. I do my best to write down as many annoying events and triggers in my life and the causes of my feeling angry and fearful. Then read the list out loud to my cat. She taps my cheek gently, reminding me everything is going to be okay. The doctor mentions to me if and when the anger is released from my body, it can set me free. Remember, he tells me; Peace is waiting.

Meanwhile, I guzzle the remainder of the wine sitting at the bottom of the bottle. With any luck, the voices that haunt me might disappear. Remain hopeful, the doctors tell me daily.

   When I call the doctor this afternoon, he gives me another homework assignment. The assignment is for me to watch something uplifting on television or read a good book. Another psychiatrist recommends listening to classical music might calm my nerves. But nothing helps! Nothing!

   I push the button on the side of my recliner chair and turn up the volume on the television. No sooner does a show come on; the voices interrupt the show. The voices inform me about a wonderful life in heaven. "Shut up!" I scream at them. I finally get a hold of a doctor and beg him for a sedative. But he refuses to prescribe any drugs. Instead, he recommends to heat up some milk. Warm milk will relax me, he adds. "Warm milk?" I scream into the phone then hang up.

Not sure if anything is going to help, I reluctantly decide to put some milk in a cup then turn on the microwave. After a few sips of warm milk there is a certain calmness I feel. But still I am not asleep. So, I write. Again.

  Then the voices remind me "heaven is waiting and it is quiet there. You will finally sleep." The loudest voice enters the room, reminding me how all my problems will be gone one day. In heaven, there will no longer be this internal hell.

   The voices scream at me even louder now and there is no way for me to block them out. Leaving me few choices if any, the small decorative pillow resting on my sofa, catches my eye. It will clearly muffle out the sound of their voices. "Shut up",I scream and throw the pillow into the air, knocking over a few books on the shelf.

I leap out of bed to write down some of my worst fears I encounter in this stupid world. "Damn it! The heck with the world!” I toss the journal hard; leaving a small dent in the wall.

   At that moment, I worry about my pet mouse and dash into his room. He is sitting on the edge of his dish with a sunflower seed clasped between his tiny hands. “I wish I was a mouse!” They don't have all the stress we humans have, then my mouse drops the shell of his sunflower seed and it falls into a clump of litter.

I reach into his cage to talk to him.And while he curls into a ball in the palm of my hand, I whisper how very much he is loved and plant a giant kiss on his moist nose.

 “ If only I could sleep”, I tell him. I have not slept in forever.”

All seems quiet, but not for long because then the voices start; again. They remind me of another world. Nothing blocks the voices out and feeling desperate; I guzzle the last of the wine, then place the bottle on the wooden dresser, gently. My mouse nudges me and reminds me he wants to go back into his cage. So, for now, the light is dimmed and the door closes softly, regardless if the rage inside of me is screaming loudly.

  I continue to write because writing brings me comfort during times of stress; I write and then yawn. Feeling a bit more relaxed now; with the mouse resting and no one around; it is peaceful but only for a moment. Then the haunting thoughts appear and then disappear. Worry settles in. I worry about my pets. My sanity. The neighbors.

   So, I close my eyes and wonder; "Do mice worry?" If I were a mouse, there would not be any need to worry. Dreaming of cheese and sneaking into supermarkets would take up most of the day. IF anyone caught me nibbling on cheese, it would not matter much to me because mice have needs too. Speaking of needs; “I need sleep!" I need sleep! "Why me, God?"

  At this point, I notice my cat asleep in my bed. Her face is hiding underneath a soft blanket. Maybe she is dreaming. Maybe SHE is dreaming. Dreaming of mice or fish?I want to be dreaming! I pound my fist on the dresser and let out a loud piercing cry. No one realizes my pain and the insanity of my life. No one... knows the truth!

Then the phone rings. Once, twice, it stops. Paranoia is destroying me and people...people are watching me. Tears flow down my cheeks in slanting streeks. But the voices remind me NOT to show fear. Goodness, but I am afraid! I am afraid!

    The phone rings again and this time the voice on the other end of the phone sounds calm and reminds me to have hope. Have faith. "Have faith?" It is too late for faith! My bed begins to spin. It spins faster. "How does one escape this hell?" The voices scream to me repeatedly; "Do not be afraid. Fear is only an illusion created by the mind!"

 I put my head down and pray silently for this nightmare to end. Sleep! I need sleep!I need faith and a plan. There must be a plan! At that moment; the bed stops spinning. And the voices tell me to wait... but they will not be gone forever. I know they will be back to haunt me; again.