“A sensory experience of something that does not exist outside the mind”
I experience these regularly, not as a result to substance abuse, intoxication, a lack of sleep or nutrients but just on a day to day basis. Today I have eaten and drunk a healthy concoction of fruit, salad, fish, water etc. Perhaps the only naughty thing that I consumed was a mug  of coffee, oops… and the odd fag.
I have had a good day, went to a group, practiced playing the ukelele, singing and recording, laundry, cleaned the house. My mood has been pretty balanced. I haven’t been isolated. Yet… I have seen an unwelcome stranger in my living room, three times in the last hour or so. It was so unexpected, the first time I screamed, which seemed to make it vanish but then with no warning, it came back, twice!
Now, it is no secret that I suffer from mental illness but that alone does not stand as a justification or explanation that I feel comfortable with. I have had similar “hallucinations” before but apart from medication, the medical professionals don’t seem to worry, care or explain what is going on. I think that whether they are projections from the mind, or literal sightings don’t really matter. What matters is that I am experiencing something that I do not welcome, like or understand and believe I need support to get through this. My experience is that such occurrences come and go but they can esculate, which will only end up with me being in hospitol or dead. I would like to stop it before that but as things stand, there isn’t a way to do so.
Remember being a child and certain that there was a monster under the bed? Then your parent/parents/carer would check and put your mind to rest? I wish I could have that. Maybe there really are monsters under the bed? Maybe there aren’t. You still listen, check, comfort and console the child. You don’t dismiss, reject, deny what they say and believe. Yet people with mental illness are laughed at, shunned, ridiculed. Is that fair?
Sometimes I think about ghosts and poltergeists, some people have prooved that they exist. Perhaps I am just really intuitive? Perhaps I am being haunted? Perhaps someone deceased is trying to give me a message? Perhaps I am just insane! Whatever it is, I don’t welcome or like it.
My boogie man is tall, he has an unshaven face. Wheres a three piece black suit, white shirt and a top hat. He carries a dark wooden stick. He tells me to hurt myself, kill myself and calls me unimportant and invisable. I hear him and therefor despite my efforts to distract myself as advised by the medical professionals, I listen. If he comes for you, be careful. I have had him for sometime and he does not seem in a rush to leave.

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