So you're sitting on your couch trying to pen your third novel when out of nowhere you are hit with something that feels like a memory. It has set itself up like a memory in your mind. The things in the memory are real, the people in the memory are real but the situations are fake, but you don't know that. Why don't you know? Because this is the onset of Schizophrenia and you are having a hallucination and let's face it, your memory just isn't what it used to be (while it usually presents earlier in life, it can happen at anytime and usually the onset isn't sudden.) The steel trap is rusted, the bolts have fallen away and the bars have been eaten through with age and low maintenance.  In this "memory" you are young, a high schooler and you are convinced that your favorite teacher has some how or another done you wrong. That's what the "memory" tells you. You see the visions and hear the voices as they play out in your mind and because you have become so emersed in this fantasy, you can no longer discern your reality. You believe these things to be true because your mind is weakened by this disease.

You speak these things out loud to others and even act out the events as they happen hoping they'll understand. It's like you are reading from a script that only you know the words to. Your friends and family members are horrified. They don't know how to help you except to have you admitted into a hospital. But they don't stop - the hallucinations are going strong while you are trying to talk to the doctors. The voice in your head seems to be screaming for your attention telling you not to say another word and every word from your mouth has been elevated with sound because you are convinced that your doctor can't hear you over the noise. You cry, you pray, you wish, your plead and you do your best to think through it all. Medication? You've been like this for at least six months because you've kept it quiet until it could no longer be silenced. Your outburst and mental and emotional breakdown happens over Christmas dinner in front of your family and because your family is frightened, because they are baffled and convinced that something is wrong - they all pray for you. You accept the prayers, you say "Thank You, I'll be fine." But they dote over you. They tell you to call them but when you do, they don't answer. They tell you that they'll be there to help but they are no where around when you need them. You pace your house praying at four in the morning because its the only thing you know how to do that seems to be helping and then you leave your house in the middle of the night and early morning without saying a word to any one.

You decide you are going to do what the voice tells you to do, walk to the gas station near your home and wait for the person that will come and bless you. You believe these words because now the voice has announced itself as God. You walk the streets of your neighborhood in the middle of October as the weather begins to change. It's cold and you are wearing nothing but pajama bottoms, a tank top and a hoodie. The police will tell you later that you were lucky none of the cars that stopped you that night forced you into their cars. They will also tell you that you need to get help but you are defiant. You don't believe there is anything wrong with you. Despite you walking out of your home with no cell phone or door key at four in the freezing morning. It's 7am before you are let back into the warmth of your home and that's only because your son is up getting ready for school. Your knocks on the doors and windows go unnoticed as your family is tucked safely into bed and the man you are married to, who swears he's a light sleeper, snores the night away. The only soul awake is your cat who sees you through the window and meows because you can't rub her through the glass.

You are tucked into bed after your family goes off to school and work. You're survival through the night as attributed to the angels you saw that night huddling around you giving you their warmth and protection. The bed is cold and you are even colder. You shake beneath the covers and fall asleep but not before you have a serious talk with God. You request that he speak to you but you hear silence, you ask him to warm you, but you are still cold but you notice the thing that you did get from him is the relief and safety you asked for. The next time you open your eyes will be at midnight the following day and you wake with a migraine.

The next voice you hear isn't from your family members or God but of the teacher from your past telling you how much he loves you in your mind and you know with all your heart that he doesn't mean it and you say to your pursuer in the night - Satan be damned back to hell. From then on, every voice you hear is the devil and you fight tooth and nail with him to win back your freedom of thought.

In the beginning, they were memories gone out of control. A past life resurrected and and put on display before my very eyes. I didn't know what was happening, only that it was strange to remember the things that happened with such clarity but that's what visual hallucinations are like and there's no way to discern your reality from the fantasy happening right in front of you. None of it was real, none of it was true and none of it ever left me.

Even now as I think back on those moments and wonder how that happened, how did it take over mind the way that it did and how come it hasn't happened since I am all out baffled that I lived through it all. Living with depression is one thing but the hallucinations from Schizophrenia are something else entirely. The visions, images and things remembered were all lies. A warping of my child hood and teenage years but so damned vivid that I could literally feel every emotion, every pain and every pleasure (in the sense of experiencing a joyous moment) of having them. But they weren't real and I didn't know that. Something in my brain would not allow me to know the difference and separate my facts from the fiction I was living through.

Depression nearly took my life. I attempted suicide three times before the onset of Schizophrenia and then the number of times I plotted on my life grew. Neither of the attempts were successful. I carried out my plans but the outcome..let's just say, my faith leads me to believe that each and every time I tried I had some Divine Intervention. My weapon of choice was pills. I'd take them and die in my sleep, I thought. No one will know because no one pays attention for surely if they did, I wouldn't have been left alone in my sickness.

After the third attempt is when I started hearing the voices giving me crap about my life choices. Telling me that I didn't deserve the life I was living and criticizing my parenting.  Then it got much worse. The voice that was prominent in my mind was having a field day with my weakness. It seemed to be enjoying my misery - telling me that God no longer wanted me and that I effectively belonged to the devil.  That I could not take.The thought of God turning away from me hurt. The fact that I couldn't feel his presence shut me down and the all too loud voice in my head became the voice of Satan. I wondered why God would allow such a thing. Why he would let the devil attack me like that and why me?

Through all of that though, I never turned away from him. I told myself, God is going to have to shake me free of him if he wants to leave me. I was determined to cling to him.

I've had numerous conversations with my therapist about it all and that in particular. I told her what I was doing and how I refused to give up on God. A smile came across her face and she explained that so many people would have just given up but that I was just set on making God love me and protect me. I didn't understand her joy and amusement. I was in serious crisis. My mind kept coming up with ways to end it all, my mind had been taken over by a demon and God didn't want me anymore. I sat in her office crying while she praised the Lord. When she was done, she explained why.

"You have come so far in your faith that you refused to listen to that voice telling you to give up. You put the Lord in front of you and kept after him and you would not allow yourself to be released because you know who your true savior is."  I admire your strength she said, everything you are going up against has destroyed some and left others questioning their faith and had them reeling in self-doubt. I didn't think I was as strong as she made me out to be. Surely she was mistaken.  I was weak.

We talked it out and over. We went through a process called the DBT (Dialectial Behavioral Therapy) - a form of therapy that helps you deal with an issue in your life such as trauma, depression and abuse. For me it was all three. I put my cards out on the table so that I could get to the bottom of the "ptsd" I was experiencing in my mind. Having a mental illness is a traumatic stressor. I am learning a lot about my illnesses and a lot about what's helping and what's helping is talking about it.

This is my labor of love, to bring some insight into the mind of those that suffer. If one person can read these things and feel a kinship then I have done my job. If another can read it and become aware of what is going on, that would surely be a blessing.

As of now - I still wrestle with the devil but not like I did before. I do it with my living. Before all of this began I wanted nothing more than to leave this earth and go to heaven where I know I'd have peace from the pain of this life. Not anymore. Heaven can wait and I have work to do. Earth isn't heaven, it is only temporary and heaven is everlasting. My life was so full of confusion, torment and pain that I had no desire to be here but now, at this moment - I want nothing more than to live and to keep experiencing life for all its worth. I know God has not left me or forsaken me. This is one of his promises and I have seen him show up and show out so many times on my behalf that I never stop thanking him.

If he did it for me, he can do if for you. No matter what you are going through in your life. It took me a long time to grasp that but now I cling to it. I've had some deeply rooted spiritual experiences in my life and my faith is what helps me to get through this life. I'm not nor will I ever be ashamed to call on the mighty name of God. I accept his son, Jesus Christ and I'm proud to say that I know him. I've been through trauma and pain and have come out on top of it. After my divorce, I hit bottom and couldn't see light for all the darkness swarming around me. We've managed to give hope a bad rep and have even forgotten that it exists. Nothings impossible, nothing. Trust God to do the things you ask him to do and he will do it every time. Even in your doubt, those are the moments he likes to shine - as if to say, let me prove my love for you. You know he doesn't have to do it but he does to his glory.

We're all in the same boat being asked to trust him and walk on the water. Don't take your eyes off him for a second when you do. Keep him ahead of you for the moment you race off and leave him behind you may sink. We are tried and tested in the fire of affliction and refine through it as well. May these words sit with you through whatever you are going through. There is hope.

I don't mean to preach but I so like to boast on his goodness.

Have a blessed day writers. I pray you are well.