The voices were trying to pit me against everyone who are dear to me—even those whom I am not close with (e.g., a female acquaintance in college who was also in love with the guy I was in love with).
Also, what I’m trying to understand is why the entities (voices I was talking ‘to) didn’t want me dead. As far as I know, in possessions, usually the being wants the soul. It kinda does want it, but its priority was to kind of replace me. Take over my body. I remember it saying, “You are not Joan.”
Another confusing thing is, why was I self-destructing? It made me crazy enough to scare away the guy who I was very much in love with since forever. It was trying to make me believe that my bestie hates me. It was trying to make me believe my family hates me (always focusing on one specific sister as well). It doesn’t want me to work (keeps on disturbing me, talking and shaking my body when I try to focus). It also wants me to resign from my job. It wants me to let go of everything, especially the house.
It said I was special. That’s why it’s taken an interest in me. I don’t know about that, but I don’t feel special at all. There’s nothing special about me, to be honest.
I was just really confused why it didn’t push me into killing myself. Instead, it made me do things that are very destructive, demeaning, humiliating and embarrassing.
Or maybe it was trying to play games with me until I can’t take it anymore...? Just like with the game about Lady Misfortune?
Even with the first-person perspective, it’s really mind-boggling. I can’t explain it. All I know is I was talking to people and that, along with my actions, I’m being driven into madness. I was really questioning everything. I was self-aware but not really. I kinda know but not know. I was there but most of the time, only a third-party observer.
Aside from my family, the guy I’m in love with and my bestie, it also took the identity of my bestie’s parents, my ex, my ex’s family, my former boss, my four former colleagues, a couple whom I’m friends with, four of my high school beshies, all of my teammates at work, our CEOs, my uncles, our neighbors in Fairview, people in Romblon whom I’ve never even met or talked to, God, Jesus, Holy Spirit, etc.
That time, it felt like I was talking to everyone through telepathy or something. I was hearing voices. It would introduce itself as someone familiar, then tell me crazy BS.
Also, everyone (the voices) was saying they can see EVERYTHING that I was doing.
I was really fighting hard not to believe everything it/they were saying. I also had difficulty eating. My family said there are times I would space out. And then go back to talking to someone suddenly. I wasn’t responding properly to them. It was crazy.
I had doubts of what was happening. Trying to make sense of it all. But sometimes it gets so convincing that I give in a little. Hence, the strange actions people were telling I was doing and they said I kept on whispering. Constantly talking to someone they can’t see. And I do notice my uncontrollable squirm, my chest moving in a weird way (like something wants out) and my arms and fingers moving on their own when I’m just sitting, resting or lying down.
There are lots of problems here:
1. How come I was stupid enough to believe that telepathy is possible? And with that many a people? I can’t believe I went with it for months. But I really can’t blame myself. There were lots of voices enough to think your head is going to explode.
2. Why would I need to talk to them through telepathy and be distributed when we can just call or message each other after my shift? (I really wanted to work that time but it was hard. I was distracted by the voices. And sometimes, a force would nudge my back.) Crazy town, innit???
3. It also got me thinking... Why the heck would I do that? Talking to something I’m just hearing but not really there...? Am I really insane? Am I delusional?
There were also a couple of times I heard the voice said out of the blue, “uto-uto” and “gullible.”
It was also saying that I’ve been speaking Latin when praying and sleeping. Heck, I only know like 3 Latin phrases and as I type, I can’t even remember them right now!!!
I am not the attention-seeking type. I always want to be in the sidelines, cheering on people. I want to be invisible, but still there for people.
So why the heck would I do that, right? I don’t have time to act insane and strange. I’ve got responsibilities and places to be.
If it’s a meltdown because of a guy leaving me or breaking my heart or things not going my way, heck it should’ve happened more than 5 times.
I have a fair share of experiences chasing a guy. I tried making the first move on 2 guys already before the guy I’m really in love with came back into my life. I was heartbroken since both guys got intimidated and decided to reject me.
It wasn’t my first rejection. So I can definitely take it. It’s not a meltdown because I was feeling perfectly okay before all hell broke loose.
Also, I wasn’t stressed with work as I only have one that time. I had lots of time sleeping then too so I wasn’t really exhausted physically.
There were so many instances that, if it’s a mental breakdown, it should’ve happened many times before. The stakes were higher before that and the worse that I’ve been through was major depression—not complete insanity.
Why only that time?
I went to the psychiatrist multiple times. I was hoping to God for the meds to work but nada. The sleeping pills weren’t working. There was a time I was awake for 2 straight days, I remember. I wanted to sleep but I keep get nudged into wakefulness every time I get into a lull. The medications for schizophrenia, bipolar and psychosis weren’t working too. I still hear them even after taking them every day for 2 months. It was the worst.
I also remember changing my Twitter name to "Joan Almighty." Cringy. Yuck.
I even accepted my madness and insanity wholeheartedly inside a church. And one of the voices responded, “Hala, tinanggap nya.”
Oh and it also kept swearing the entire duration I was insane and disabled. In a way I’ve never swore before. I know how I swear. And it’s not swearing like I do. It was different. So it definitely isn’t me.
One of the voices also said (sometimes I hear them talking to each other), “Namayapa na yung kabiyak ko.” And I was like... HA??? Where did that come from???
Why would I talk to myself like that? Why would l talk myself using my mouth and out loud?
And as I said in my previous post, it only stopped after going to a manggagamot the third time.
I don’t know what is much scarier: me not insane and something paranormal happened or me completely insane and I have undergone a meltdown.
This all sounds crazy and unconvincing—even for me. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why me. I’m religious. I always pray. No heartbreak or stressful event can drive me into self-destruction that way. I have gone through hell and back, figuratively.
It’s all weird.
This is the first time (well, second time here) I’ve been actually talking about what had happened to me. Not many people in my life wants to believe in the supernatural. And I don’t want to scare people too. Even I am scared of what I saw and heard and of the entirety of what happened. I don’t want it or them to come back. I don’t want something like that to happen again.
Everyone in my life who were with me during my fight for sanity wants me to move on and forget about it. But it’s hard, you know? Especially when you can’t understand why you were acting weirdly and why you were saying things that are very strange.
My sister was telling me I was also saying weird things on Twitter. I can’t remember what I was saying... She told me she forgot but everybody thought I was going to kill myself or do something dangerous to myself.
Hang on! I just remembered!!! One of the voices was telling me to be careful of going to the airport. And that I shouldn’t fetch the person I was supposed to fetch because it’s dangerous.
But then another voice was saying to go whatever happens. And that person and me will be together. Or something stupid like that.
I don’t know. Crazy.
I’ll try to write things down when I remember them again. It kind of makes me feel better. I can’t talk to anyone about it. And it sounds all too crazy to tell someone—no one will believe it’s all true. Even I am having a hard time processing it. I also think I’m going to worry people if I tell them the bits and pieces that I remember from what happened.
And they keep saying it’s been months already. What they don’t understand was it was traumatic. I don’t want to stay in this disposition. Who wants to, right? Also, it’s hard, but I’m trying my best. I really am.
And maybe if I do this, I can let it go little by little until I can finally move on.