It can be explained that simply. Something in life made us quit.
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I’ve been pondering this… I wonder if my head circus is just getting tired. The voices are the same and weak, the hallucinations are boring… it’s just a cat out of the corner of my eye at times. Not even a fire breathing demon cat… just a black and white cat hanging around.
In stead of poverty of speech it feels like poverty of psychotic content. My circus is tired and might just quit soon.
I should add… I’m on meds… So I’m most likely not cured yet. 
This is what some buddhists say about people who have had lifetimes of constant suffering; they reach a point where they decide they are not going to suffer anymore and they reach enlightenment right then and there. I think I reached a point in my psychosis where I just had my fill and realized that I was insane and gave up on paying attention to hallucinations and delusions, I thought that I had nothing to gain from them and did pretty well ignoring them…but then I went all alcoholic and decided I needed treatment, as alcohol had become my medicine which kept me functioning.
The thing is, I am recovered with medication, so I can’t really say that I ever really overcame psychosis on my own. I think I did, I kept my GPA and scholarships while psychotic, but I was definitely suffering. I really started behaving more normally, going out in public more often, meeting new people, asked girls out, made all A’s, ect, when I got on my new med regiment.
Bang… right there… Bang! 
I’m not going to curl up and babble to my feet and lick the walls. (tried that, my feet are boring and walls taste bad)
I tried dying and that didn’t work out for me (thank goodness)
So I guess I better just live and live well. I need help, but who doesn’t. My sis can use the toaster but can’t do geometry. I can do geometry but the toaster is a killer. So I will plan the gardens, and she’ll make the toast.
We can’t fight it. After a while it felt like being pissed off that we only had two arms when Shiva gets four. So we have two arms… can’t fight it, can’t change it. So I guess I better live with it…
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Well, the people watching. The bullies. The bullies of justice and the bullies of injustice. You’re taught and learn that people are a certain way because they have to be. Maybe even because they want to be. And the back of your mind comes to accept it, and tells itself: “I can work with that.” “I can get along with that.” But nothing ever prepares you for an irrational life. Nothing ever prepares you for the bullying. It terrifies you… Not so much the actual act, but the thought. That somebody does that… for whatever reason. That there are people who do that. You can’t accept it. You don’t want to accept it. And as it turns out, you don’t have to.
I quit. You… let them win. You condemn the world to their reality. And I think you quit because you’re supposed to fight… and thats the silliest rule there ever was.