The Magic (Journal Entry)

October 2, 2021

SUNDAY

11:36pm


I go outside and have my first and only marijuana session of the night. As soon as I sit down the voice says “Don’t hate your art.”


I’m almost done the commission but I’m right near the finish line and I’m exhausted!! I don’t hate it but it’s been a great task to take on so I’m nearly done and feeling depleted. I put a lot of myself into my art. It’s also not unusual for some of my larger pieces to need a fermenting period when they’re done. It’s taken over the course of two months to complete! I hope to finish it tonight.


I’m a night owl. I have been since I was a child although there was a period of time when I was in relationships that I was a morning person. These days I’m up until 3:30am then asleep until 11:30am. I get my work done though, have Saba time in the afternoon and evening, get to appointments, walk most places I go, and try and stay on top of my housework and self care. I enjoy being awake in the nighttime though when the world’s asleep.


It’s true that the voice tries to help and is always around to prompt a smile and warm glow inside me when I’m down, which has been quite a bit, but it lingers as a constant reminder that I’m insane, even if it can be helpful. The ‘Insane’ label always makes me cringe. It makes me feel like I’m violent and scary when I’m not.


I understand now that the voice is just some part of me that’s communicating with me, journeying with me through my days. Although I have a history of hearing voices, especially when using different street drugs, I’ve never experienced a voice that I thought was telepathy until 2020 — That’s a new one in my years of living with mental illness and drug use.


I was following the concept of Twin Flames, who are believed to be telepathic, but gosh it’s hurtful to realize how crazy I am then still have to live being crazy. I still love the marijuana though. One toke a night isn’t the worst drug I could do. I love how relaxed and calm I feel in my body right now. I love that I can write about what I’m experiencing in my mind. It’s the nicorette and cigarette cravings that are harder to deal with and those are a way of self medicating the Akathisia (a med side effect) although I am taking another med willingly to help the side effect too. Although it makes me a bit drowsy, it does help. I’d rather be a bit dopey in my day anyway. I’ve been a fan of sedatives for a long time. In my life with bipolar disorder it’s always better to feel a bit sedated than too wired.


My journals are the thoughts I don’t share on social media. My real life. I don’t know how well I do at capturing my life in these writings of mine. The delusion shattering has been a sobering experience really. I’m glad I can see more clearly now but I’m not convinced that it’s the meds that are helping me or whether its been meeting and opening up about it to safe people I trust and them telling me what’s real or not. It could be the meds though too, I don’t deny that. I would rather learn to understand the reason I hear voices though, seeing I still hear it while on meds (even when I’m not using marijuana). I also acknowledge the marijuana makes it louder and clearer. I spend so much time alone though, it’s nice to not feel lonely in my head. I think that’s the bit that keeps me actively engaged with it. For the most part, I enjoy the voice. I just wish I’d let it be a voice from the get-go and never thought it was real.


The telepathic delusion is like a car crash, I want to look away and erase it all but I can’t. I’m stuck here burning in the fire I’ve lit around me, in delusions crumpling in the flames yet not the magic nor the meaning in life.




So much Spirituality has ridden alongside the psychosis. The hope — the possibility — that a better life exists for me out there. One where I’m not living with awful med side effects everyday. I don’t know why I created this fantasy world and the voice in my head. I don’t know why I’ve written books about it or about my life at all. But words are power, they’re vibrations and spells. I still believe that. The magic isn’t a wiggle your nose kind of magic, it’s kindness and hope and so much more. Language and art can be magical. They can move people.


Kindness towards others sends out smiles and positive energy. It moves people. And Hope, well I think one day treatments will change and I’ll feel a lot better. That’s my hope for myself and for others who understand the struggle of living with mental illness, pharmaceutical treatment, and addiction.


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