In that dark place
Thinking of how much I hated the fact
That a being I so feared and resented
I also NEEDED
My body NEEDED
Missing the pure physical pleasure
And nothing else
Once again asking my enemy for help
And its response was to laugh
“I owe you nothing. A friend of an enemy is an enemy. Suffer with your desire.”
Then, feverish whisperings
“You are less than a whore, a least a whore is paid for her work, you are nothing more than a victim, why not receive payment? Less than a whore…”
And then I noticed Father
And my enemy said softly “I could be your Father.”
But I wanted my real Father
And he scooped me into his arms
And brought me back to the light
Where it was warm and safe
Not cold and dark
I asked my Father “Can you make it so it’s impossible for me to speak to that thing?”
And Father said sadly “You know I cannot interfere with your will, my child.”
Some days I just feel so trapped
If you don’t mind me asking. In your poem, what is this thing that you need, that your body needs? Is it something that you truly need and don’t get or something you feel you need but deep down know is bad for you that has to do with SZ?
When I was having my first major psychotic episode in highschool it was basically like I was living with an invisible sadistic controlling rapist. I could feel everything that was done to me and hear what he said to me, but I couldn’t see him and couldn’t fight back. I’d often be overcome with this drugged feeling during which made it even harder to fight. I think one of the worst and most confusing aspects about it was that it was IMMENSELY physically pleasurable. (Unless I had been “bad” in which case the entity made it painful-and it could be quite painful as well) Anyways it made things horribly confusing because here I am trying to fight off this very cruel and frightening being that at the same time was making me feel very, very good.
I actually went into withdrawal when I moved houses and it stopped out of the blue. Straight up withdrawal, couldn’t sleep because I’d gone from having hours of intense and pleasureable sexual experiences a day to none. At my worst moments I’d scream and beg for it to come back. That really messed up my self esteem and made me hate myself because I knew how horrific life had been with that thing around. Literally it would keep me up for hours terrorizing me with different tactics until I gave in out of exhaustion and let it do what it wanted to me. Every night was a war that felt like it was consuming who I was as a person.
That entity was very, very bad and what it did to me was very bad. And yet I cannot help but still physically crave it to this day because I still have never experienced physical pleasure even close to what that thing brought me, despite having mastered masturbation to point of ear ringing orgasms. It’s disgusting. I honestly don’t think I understood or sympathized with addiction until that. Not saying my experience is the same as someone who was addicted to hard drugs or alcohol or anything, just that it really helped me understand the immensity of that battle and took away any judgement I may have had.
To add onto that I am too traumatized by my experiences with that to actually engage in sexual experiences with guys, so I can’t even get satisfaction from that. I tried, with a boyfriend I got after it was all over, and I literally just froze up and went into like paranoia/anxiety attack.
I feel like my experience destroyed my sexuality. It happened at a time where I should’ve been exploring it and having experiences and I feel all that was stolen from me. I don’t really have words to describe the pain I feel toward that time period.
That’s perfectly normal. Most men who are raped don’t report it because they feel ashamed. Not only because men aren’t ‘supposed to be raped’ but because of their biological reaction. That stuff is out of anyone’s control, man or woman.
Do not feel ashamed of what you experienced. You didn’t choose to have that hallucination. It was your brain working against you or however you want to view it.
With enough theraputic work and patience from a man you love, I know you will be able to have the positive sexual experience you want and deserve.
And there will be someone out there who is patient enough to work through this with you when you are ready. But you can take your time. Take it slow. That is okay.
Lord I was starting to tear up reading that, thank you. It’s what I needed to hear…today has been really, really difficult.
I should be up for a little while to chat if you need. I’m not sure when my meds kick in and zonk me out but 'till then I’ve got nowhere to go 
. So if you need to talk I can listen. And even when I fall asleep there is almost always someone on lol. People with Sz are not known for having normal sleeping habits.
@Anna Also, if you haven’t, consider talking about this with your therapist. He or she should be able to help reinforce the truth that this is in no way your fault. Sometimes I need the truth to be told to me countless times before it really sinks in.
One of the reasons why things have been rocky lately is because I’ve been doing trauma work in therapy and we’ve been touching on painful subjects that end up flooding me with bad memories/aggravating my symptoms. I’ve been doing this for a while now and I know in the end it’s very worth it but I’m in that rough patch before that right now.
Yes I made a post the other day saying how I appreciated there was always people around on here regardless of the hour 
It’s also hard for me because even though I know my family and friends are supportive, I don’t want to tell them when I am struggling because I know there’s nothing they can do about it. I feel like I am burdening them unnecessarily for my own sake. I want so badly to tell them how scared I am, to rant about how much I want the voices to shut up.
Non stop heckling today from the devil or whatever the voice refers to itself as I don’t know. Non-stop. Just constantly berating me and then criticizing me for telling it to go away when I wanted them so bad to begin with.
Yeah bringing this stuff up, even if it is to help get better, can make it feel temporarily worse. Sometimes I wish I could just ignore everything.
I suppose you have to face things to really conquer them. But definitely make sure to tell your therapist about how stressed out you are feeling. If you need to slow down, she needs to accept that. Listen to her, trust her, but you are the one in charge.
About sharing, I understand how you feel. There are lots of things I don’t feel comfortable sharing even with people I trust and have explicitly told them how much I trust them. But I will say that ‘pain shared is pain halved.’ If you know they are able to handle it and will respond appropriately, it is not ‘burdening’ them. It is sharing with them. You say there is nothing they can do but listening is sometimes the best thing one person can do for another.
Hi. Speaking of alcohol addiction, for me as an alcoholic, it was like climbing a stairway to “heaven.” The higher I got, the more I reasoned, “Why not climb higher?” Alcohol and other illicit drugs I think qualify as what Baudelaire the poet termed “artificial paradises,” so-called because they mimic the paradise we all crave in a hopeful afterlife. For me, there was nothing better than alcohol – not even sex. It wasn’t until I was almost dead that I made myself stop. Or maybe something bigger than me stopped me. Dunno for sure. But I understand the ecstasy you must feel from this being you describe. No blame and no shame. I judge no one. Good luck and take care.
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