Expressing Pain Through Poetry

I have always struggled with mental illness ever since I was a teenager. It started out with ADHD at 13. I was put on Adderall, and I still take a stimulant medication. It's been 18 years of so many different medications I couldn't even tell you how many or name them all. But when I was 26 years old, I experienced my first psychosis episode. I didn't know it then, but I would end up being diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder 3 months later. 

The very first symptom I had was hearing an audible whisper. I was actually lying in bed with my now husband of 11 years, and I had my head on his chest. I was lying there peacefully like I always did. And then, out of nowhere, I hear, "Get the f*** off of me!" It was a loud whisper, and I immediately assumed my husband was the one who had whispered this. 

So, my instant reaction was to sit up quickly, and then I pushed my husband on his side really hard and asked him why he had just whispered that. And when I pushed him, I actually woke him up and scared him. He told me he didn't know what I was talking about. But I didn't believe him. 

I spent the next few weeks listening to this whispering in bed at night. I finally started to record it with my phone. My thoughts were that if I could catch the whispering on the voice recording, I could prove to my husband that he, in fact, was whispering. 

And when I tell you this voice was mean, nasty, and evil, it would be an understatement. It kept saying that it was going to hurt my son and me. And then I thought it was my husband who was saying it. So, naturally, one night, after listening to the recording and hearing it say those things, I freaked out. 

I grabbed my pocket knife out of my purse and started packing a suitcase. And I called my parents and told them what was happening and that we were in danger. My mom and dad both raced over to our home. And they found me clearly not in my right mind. And, of course, my husband woke up and tried to profess his innocence. 

I stayed at my parent's house that night and came home the next day, mostly because I finally had to admit that I had heard the whispering throughout the day, too. But at the time, I didn't put two and two together. I think I was just in denial. 

I didn't want to accept that I was hearing voices. But I was and had to deal with this evil voice that never shut up. I barely slept because I could hear it so well at night while trying to sleep. And then, my husband and I prayed about it in bed one night, and the evil voice disappeared. 

However, I was left with a new voice, one that is good, nice, caring, and comforting. So, I hear this voice constantly. But if I try to ignore it, it gets quieter. But I went to my psychiatrist and got my new diagnosis. 

Since then, I have been writing poetry about my struggles with this debilitating mental illness. And the stigma that comes with the diagnosis. My first book of poetry was all about my suffering from mental illness, and I have produced some of my best poetry from experiencing the symptoms of this disorder. 

Do you have any mental or physical illness that inspires your poetry?