Vent: I miss my delusions
Posted: Sun Jun 04, 2023 5:13 pm
Trigger warning: mentions of mental illness, self-harm, and delusions ahead.
When I was around nine years old, I started having dreams. Thoughts. I felt there was something about me that was just different, or special, in a way that didn't apply to others. I had messages in my brain from spirits in the sky. They sent me here to do something. They sent me because I could do things other people couldn't.
But they wanted me back. They wanted to take me back into the sky, so they made me hurt. They gave me violent intrusive thoughts. They tampered with my feelings so I forgot what it was like to be happy. I thought I could handle everything. I thought I could resist them, resist the pain, and they'd leave me alone before I gave up and went back to the sky. I got close sometimes but I was always stronger than they were.
Thinking back on it now, it's scary. More than scary: it is absolutely terrifying to remember myself genuinely believing this. I wonder how far it could have gotten, if it hadn't let up. I wonder if I would have eventually stopped fighting the demons in my head.
I don't know how I woke up from that, but I did when I was around twelve or thirteen? I think I was thirteen. I don't even remember the change. I suppose I just grew out of it. Nowadays it's hard for me to believe in anything because back then I couldn't trust my own brain. How was I supposed to trust anyone or anything else? Anyway, I slowly realised that there were no demons, no sky spirits. The terrible, evil voices in my head were my own. I was doing this to myself.
I've had depression for around six years. Last year I started and stopped self-harming. I've been clean for around seven months now, but my self-esteem is still really low. Even though my mood has improved since I've gone on antidepressants, it's difficult to think of myself as anything above pathetic, stupid, the worst. And lately I've been thinking back on that little nine-year-old kid who somehow was able to believe they were special.
I feel stupid saying it, but sometimes I do miss my delusions. Maybe not the fear that came with them, but I miss thinking of myself as important enough to warrant such threats. I miss feeling like I was worth something, like there was something about me to value.
And I know what everyone says: You're worth it. You're a human being with value just like the rest of us. And I know that. But there's a big difference between knowing and believing. When my world wasn't real, it was hard for me to know anything, but I believed. Anybody who is religious really has no idea what's out there, but you believe anyway.
So anyway. I miss my self-worth. I miss my faith. I don't know if I'll ever be that little kid again. Thanks for reading.
When I was around nine years old, I started having dreams. Thoughts. I felt there was something about me that was just different, or special, in a way that didn't apply to others. I had messages in my brain from spirits in the sky. They sent me here to do something. They sent me because I could do things other people couldn't.
But they wanted me back. They wanted to take me back into the sky, so they made me hurt. They gave me violent intrusive thoughts. They tampered with my feelings so I forgot what it was like to be happy. I thought I could handle everything. I thought I could resist them, resist the pain, and they'd leave me alone before I gave up and went back to the sky. I got close sometimes but I was always stronger than they were.
Thinking back on it now, it's scary. More than scary: it is absolutely terrifying to remember myself genuinely believing this. I wonder how far it could have gotten, if it hadn't let up. I wonder if I would have eventually stopped fighting the demons in my head.
I don't know how I woke up from that, but I did when I was around twelve or thirteen? I think I was thirteen. I don't even remember the change. I suppose I just grew out of it. Nowadays it's hard for me to believe in anything because back then I couldn't trust my own brain. How was I supposed to trust anyone or anything else? Anyway, I slowly realised that there were no demons, no sky spirits. The terrible, evil voices in my head were my own. I was doing this to myself.
I've had depression for around six years. Last year I started and stopped self-harming. I've been clean for around seven months now, but my self-esteem is still really low. Even though my mood has improved since I've gone on antidepressants, it's difficult to think of myself as anything above pathetic, stupid, the worst. And lately I've been thinking back on that little nine-year-old kid who somehow was able to believe they were special.
I feel stupid saying it, but sometimes I do miss my delusions. Maybe not the fear that came with them, but I miss thinking of myself as important enough to warrant such threats. I miss feeling like I was worth something, like there was something about me to value.
And I know what everyone says: You're worth it. You're a human being with value just like the rest of us. And I know that. But there's a big difference between knowing and believing. When my world wasn't real, it was hard for me to know anything, but I believed. Anybody who is religious really has no idea what's out there, but you believe anyway.
So anyway. I miss my self-worth. I miss my faith. I don't know if I'll ever be that little kid again. Thanks for reading.