Take the right steps to stay well
I was nine when the voices began.
I think the voices were my response to trauma and abuse. My family background wasn’t that great and I think the voices protected me and still do.
The voices were often encouraging but self-deprecating as well. They were critical of other people and suspicious of their motives. That made me very wary of people and isolated me quite a bit.
I didn’t really know what was going on, or whether it was normal or not. It was just something I was living with at the time and I thought that everybody probably went through the same thing.
The voices became quieter for a while. Then, when I was 14, they became louder and more serious. I had no friends and would sit in my room alone for long periods.
Going through deep depression
I was going through a deep depression and began to drink to mitigate the voices. That helped for a time, until my early 20s, but then alcohol became a big problem for me. I lost a series of jobs because of the drinking, and the voices became really troublesome again.
So I stopped drinking for a while and moved into media work. I didn’t tell anyone about the voices. I was worried people would think I was mad, and that somehow I’d lost control of my senses. I had a career based on credibility, so it was a bit embarrassing and I thought I’d lose my job.
Sometimes the voices were funny and quite witty, but they became more deprecating and more aggressive towards other people. If I was tired, or lonely, or feeling isolated, I would slip into believing the voices and they became less encouraging.
For a long time I saw them as being separate beings. They were spirits, otherworld-y. I saw them as separate to myself.
When I was 31 – between the voices, feeling depressed, and pressures at home and at work - I had a breakdown and attempted suicide.
I was hospitalised in an acute mental health ward for three months. I didn’t talk about the voices, because I thought that would keep me in hospital longer. I was put on antipsychotics and tried to say the right things. After a period, I was discharged.
Homeless and stoopped taking meds
I relocated, but the accommodation I’d organised fell through and I was homeless for two or three weeks. I ended up staying with friends but I’d stopped taking my medication and went downhill again very rapidly.
The police found me wandering around the streets dazed and confused. I was taken back to hospital, where I stayed for about six months.
This time, I started talking about my voices. I didn’t really want to, because I knew it would mean more medication. But the doctors asked me what kind of voices they were - commanding, encouraging, aggressive, loud - and I think it concerned them enough to increase the antipsychotic medication I was on.
While I was in hospital I started painting. It was helpful because it took my mind off the voices. It was the first time I’d done anything creative and it distracted me from being inside my head. That’s something I’ve continued with.
When I got out of hospital the second time, they organised talking therapy sessions for me, with a psychologist. But my head wasn’t in it. The idea of recovery was foreign to me. Everything was so bleak, so dark, and there was no hope. It was like being in a coal-covered cave.
I had a couple more periods of hospitalisation, but gradually over the past two years things have changed. What has helped my recovery? My commitment to staying well and the support I’ve received.
Therapy, mindfulness & exercise helpful
Talk therapy is now really helpful. My suicidal thoughts are way down now. I still think about it occasionally, but it’s not dominating every minute of every day.
I have a lot more contact with people and attend more of my weekly therapy sessions. We talk about mindfulness, special kinds of breathing, meditation, my fears and nightmares. I get good suggestions from those sessions.
I’m also exercising more, getting out more, and working in media again. There are more things in my life now to mitigate the voices, so they aren’t so much of a concern.
Five years ago, my support worker introduced me to a community arts centre. I had my first art exhibition and sold two thirds of the show. That really encouraged me to keep going. It was the process of creating the art that was most important to me, but I guess the sales were a validation of what I was doing.
I feel there’s a little bit of light at the end of the tunnel, the voices are still there but they are manageable, especially with my art, and mindfulness and meditation.
Mindfulness allows me to just notice the voices are there and let them pass by. With meditation, I can focus on my body and what it’s doing - my heart rate, my muscles and the weight of my head - and that takes me away from the voices.
Top tips
My advice to others would be to take your medication, do mindfulness and physical exercise and talk to a therapist. Volunteer - because there’s nothing like helping others to take you out of the self-indulgent nature of your illness - and stay close to whatever supports you may have in place, as it’s important to tell your friends and family what you need.
I’m happier now than I’ve been for 20 years. I’ve learnt everybody’s different and that we are all complex human beings. I’m not all bad and I’m not all mad either. I do have something to contribute.
