I knew I couldn’t trust anyone, and I was constantly on the lookout
for any sign of danger. I knew that they wouldn’t do anything as obvious
as gunning me down in the street, and would employ more devious means
such as sabotaging my car or electrocuting me in the bath. I was driving
around a lot at that time to escape the voices, and I would often check
my car for bombs or severed brake pipes before starting the engine. I’d
get nervous if I thought a car was following me, and what should have
been a short journey could turn into miles of travelling to avoid being
pursued. I started to avoid people, as the voices had told me that they
would kill my family and friends if I tried to get help, and the
authorities were all in on it. I’d often find myself in a strange town,
miles from home, trying to stay one step ahead of the hunters. When I
was briefly at home, I was terrified that they’d come for me, and I
hardly slept.

About this time, I’d been seeking medical help for the depression which
had become unbearable and I was given medication which I’d been taking
for a while. I didn’t tell the doctor much about the other symptoms - I
didn’t trust anyone enough for that. I can’t remember what the meds
were, but after time they began to have a calming effect. The paranoia
slowly faded and the delusion gradually dissolved. Realisation
eventually dawned that I was safe. For now.

Extremes of emotional affect are familiar to me now. When I was younger,
I could go from ecstatic jubilation and supreme confidence to howling,
death-wishing floods of tears and crippling feelings of self-doubt in
the space of a few hours. As time has passed, the transitions have
become more gradual, but even now they can still take me by surprise on
occasion. The periods of high or low can last from a few days to months
on end. Sometimes other symptoms are present, like hallucinations and
hearing voices, especially during a spell of low mood. When I’m high,
the voices are there less and the ones that do visit are the “good
guys”. When I’m high, I have an incredible amount of energy and feel
like I could do anything. The first few times, my thoughts would be like
stampeding wild horses and it was difficult to actually focus my mind,
but over the years I’ve come to have a little more control over them,
although they can still be pretty unruly. 

In my early 20s, depression and anxiety hit me so hard I sought
professional help. Before the low, I’d been feeling fantastic and it
wasn’t until much later that I realised that I’d been experiencing my
first high. My GP prescribed anti-depressants and referred me to Park
Clinic day hospital, and I became a patient there for the first time.
The patients were a complete mix of just about every kind of mental
illness, age and backgrounds. I wasn’t feeling particularly sociable at
that time, and settling in took a while, and was a bit like starting at a
new school or job, but even harder. After a few weeks, the meds began
to have a slight effect, and it became slightly easier to interact with
the people there. I was still plagued by thoughts of suicide and
feelings of worthlessness, but I also felt less isolated and began to
talk about what was on my mind more, both to other patients and the
medical staff. I was assigned a keyworker, and had regular sessions with
a psychiatrist. I didn’t tell anyone about the voices I was hearing, as
I was terrified of being sectioned. This had happened to some of my
fellow patients, and their stories scared me shitless. I only told the
psychiatrist about the hallucinations I was having, as they were
actually more disturbing to me than the voices, and that was when I was
first given an anti-psychotic medication. I was lucky, and it helped
with both the voices and the visions after a while. It wasn’t without
side effects though, and made me feel a bit spaced out, and sometimes
when walking I felt like I was floating a few inches above the ground.
Not entirely unpleasant, and I was prepared to put up with the weirdness
in exchange for the benefits.