Voices

When you hear people talk about voices, voices that they hear most people have preconceived ideas that normally involve insanity and psychopaths. That has always been my thoughts, that is until mine started to come forward more.

I realise now that it has always been there I just haven’t always realised that is what it was. Maybe some would call it your inner voice which I thought was what it was but this voice is male which I have always found strange that as a female my inner voice is male.

The last few years since my diagnosis of BPD I have been more aware as I have learnt more about the symptoms and what BPD entails and have realised that this might not be my inner voice after all.

I see him very clearly in my minds eye now. He is dressed similar to a circus ringmaster, top hat, red coat, black trousers, white shirt and knee length black boots. He has shoulder length black hair and a moustache. He mostly scowls or has a menacing grin and never has anything nice to say. He is the constant that feeds my negative thoughts even on good days I can feel him there, in the background, waiting, watching. I can hear his breathing as if he is next to me, just waiting for his opportunity to pounce, to prey on my weaknesses. 

He makes me feel like a little girl again, he knows what to say and how to say it…

You are worthless. No one wants to be around you, why would they, what do you possibly have to offer or say that would be of any use to anyone. You should never have been a mother, you will screw up their lives just like you screw up everyone’s. Look at you, you are disgusting and fat and ugly no one will find you attractive. People only talk to you because they feel sorry for you, they pity you. No one will miss you if you are not here, in fact their lives will be better without you destroying them like you destroy everything.

But as negative as he is I am not sure I would be complete without him…and that is the most screwed up part of all.