So. I’ve gotten to the point where I realize that everything the voices have told me are fake, lies, etc. I dont entertain what they say anymore and I try to forget everything they told me, try to distance myself from who they told me I was.
But it’s so hard. I remember everything they told me about my supposed past life and everything about that culture and I “remember” those memories and everything. I think of what I “went” through and I get these feelings of such strong homesickness that I end up crying really hard for hours. I don’t know what to do, I know that it’s not real but it’s like my subconscious or inner child or whatever you wanna call it still believes in it and misses it. I want to travel, to kind of give my head and heart some relief by going to places that remind me of that “home” but I don’t have any money (technically I’ve gotten paid but I haven’t received any of the money in two months from my job Preformatted text) and I don’t know if I’d even be able to travel if I did have the money just because I’d want someone to go with me.
Has anyone else had this kind of feeling? I read somewhere that hiraeth meant something along the lines of a homesickness for something that doesn’t exist or something you can’t go back to. Please correct me if I’m wrong! I just want to stop these feelings of homesickness!
Maybe a part of me is, I mean hearing them has been a huge part of my identity and gave explanations to certain things about me that I don’t have any other answers for. When I started accepting the ideas of the voices I’ve been hearing as not really existing, it was kind of like losing a whole family in one day or like waking up and realizing that the past five years was a dream you can never go back to
The voices? I still hear them, they’re more quiet now that I’ve started becoming more social and communicate the worries they put in me with other people but they’re still there. I can feel them too, like the feel of them hasn’t changed it’s more like their volume is turned down a little if that makes sense. And it’s weird because I know that they aren’t real but I’ve believed in them for so long that I can’t rewire my brain to stop believing that what they say is true. I just try not to listen to what they say to me, I try not to let what they say influence me or get stuck in my head and change my thoughts. I’m slowly getting better, but I can’t get over this homesickness. It’s like being told stories of yourself when you were younger so often that you believe it just to find out that none of it is true. Like being told that you loved the color blue when you were young and you were told that so often that it ends up being your favorite again only to be told that you never liked blue, you liked yellow but now you find yourself in love with blue.
Sorry for the rambling, it’s been so long since I’ve started writing again. I don’t want to stop
