Sorry everyone but this has been in my head for a while. It’s why I like my voices and why I want to keep them. They help me navigate my head.
The door into my head is just beside my left temple above my left ear. That was were one of the electrodes was placed when I had ECT. That created the door into my head.
from there, you will find a 10 lane highway that merges down in to one lane leading to my mouth. Everything is stuck in a constant traffic jam. That’s why I write better then I talk. On the side of the road is my panic man walking up and down the highway panicking. As long as I leave him there, I’m fine.
Just above the highway is another door to my piano room. Half of it is bombed out and the piano is in need of tuning. It’s a dark and scary room with warped mirrors and it smells like a house fire. The Hypnotist lives in there and tries to use the piano to get my attention so I’ll listen to him.
Next to his room is the circus tent. The little girl lives in the circus and it’s not a good place. It is a dark and twisted circus where the clowns are many and the animals are sad and the smell is sickening. It’s a long forgotten and rotten circus that has been left to grow dark and ugly. It’s were the nightmares come from. The music is dizzying and the air is dark and thick. I try to avoid the circus these days. It’s getting smaller. Each time I see the tent, it’s smaller then before. I run past it, hoping not to get sucked in…
I keep going into the next room. The forest room where there is always a light fog. The Observer/ Commentator is lost in there and tries to follow me and get me lost as well. But he hasn’t been around lately and I haven’t been getting as lost as I used to. I can get through that forest fog in my head a lot sooner and come out to the next room…
That room is the outdoor room. It’s the tranquility in my head. It’s the strong cliff over looking the clear azure sea. The cliff holds a vineyard of black berry vines and the morning dew has lightly covered the field as the sun rises and a light ocean breeze gently pushes the vines back and forth.
The are no voices there, only silence and calm and warmth and fresh black berries in morning dew. Once I get in there I hate leaving. But that little corner of calm has grown. I’ve pushed the edges and made it bigger. I picture that calm expanding in my head. I’ve tried to make more space for the calm and serenity.
I’m think I’m managing it. When I do have to leave my head, I travel back towards the panic man and take the turn into the ocean room. It’s all under water and everything sounds muted. Nothing is scary there and it looks just like my fish tank. I swim to the door, go up the little ladder and I usually exit out of the small hatch just above my right ear.
That is the ear I usually hear my name being called in this lucid reality. James? James? Can you hear me? Then I’m out of my head and find myself in my living room with a cup of tea. It’s usually my turn and my kid sis is hoping to beat me at Scrabble. I can’t let that happen.
Thank you for taking this head circus tour.
This post took me a minute to ponder 
