mind of illness: s c h i t z o p h r e n i c

To those of you who have been keeping up, thank you so much! I hope we can all get to a point where we understand the severity of mental illness and do our part in spreading awareness!

This next piece I was a tad hesitant on sharing, but it’s been a while since my last post and I want to be more consistent with my work.

Also, I decided to go back and reread my first book “The Fruits Of Addiction: A Pernicious Love” and I can understand why none of you were willing to read it 😂😂😂 God, yes everything depicted is accurate but my writing was TERRIBLE, ugh I ugly cringed after every page. So I decided to rewrite it and aside from my 2nd and 3rd book, I’ve been doing that on the side as well.

Btw yes, I’m writing a 3rd book 😂😂 it’s a book on poems, which I will be sharing here and there, for feedback. I’ve never been much of a poet but it’s so calming!!

Anyways enough of my personal updates, thank you for those who care!!! And on to part 3 of my “mind of illness” collection! I hope you like it!


i was once told that i was loved.

the person who told me that, was the same person who told me i would never amount to anything.

a lost soul with dreams to one day reach the heavens. born into mediocrity, domestic abuse, and mental trauma.

what does that make me?

am i loved?

am i a failure?

the scars patterned all over my body and my mind left a unique sense of trauma. all while the sound of a loved one’s voice resides in the deepest crevices of my brain, repeating each affirmation and censure faithfully as if it were a religious hymn.

“i love you!”

“i hate you.”

“miss you.”

“fuck you!”

“vete pa’l carajo, muerete”

“vos eres mi cielo”

Todas estas voces inunda mi mente…

fuck…

sorry…

my mind has become so overwhelmed, constantly racing between thoughts and topics.

i meant to say… all of these voices flood my mind everytime i find myself deep in thought.

what if i told you that i am nothing like the others?

What if i told you that i am not just another slave with the sole purpose of pleasing?

i crave a profound love, i crave spiritual connection, i crave peace. You don’t know how much i crave peace…

Piece of mind,

peace amongst my people,

peace when i enter my dreams,

but i know that is just another empty notion…

yet when I close my eyes i see the face of another tormented soul. another pained individual who shares the same moralities as myself. tormented, plagued with the same curse.

Whose demons haunt her at every sign of silence. tortured by the hand of her own mentality… yet full of love and hopes for prosperity and absolution. both of us calmed by our favorite drugs, leaving us temporarily numb, silent, &addicted.

the sins of our forefathers are what define us. &although we are destined for failure, i am pleased that i am no longer alone. i am pleased to know i was never alone…

but as i reach for a kiss, a symbolization of the mutuality forged by our predetermined fates, i finally open my eyes and realize:

there isn’t anyone there.

there never was.

the face of that beautiful poor soul whom i had fallen in love with was nothing more than a myth i had forced myself into believing.

no matter how much i pray, there is no silence, there is no salvation; solitude is where i reside.

i wish i could vow that it gets easier. that it will one day become manageable. but i developed a powerful habit, one that rivals my addiction to the euphoric numbing:

realization.

the realization that there is no hope, the realization that there is no escape, and the realization that those voices weren’t of loved ones, they were my own.

the voices of the many identities i oppose.

or better yet, oppose me.

-Jay. “The Fruits Of Addiction: A Pernicious Love”


a side note:

Just wanted those of you who may have taken anything I said offensively for whatever reason. Maybe because of my own depiction of schizophrenia, my take on mental illness, or how my work highlights the negative aspects of each illness.

Regardless I wanted to take this time to say that I am in no way romanticizing mental illness, demonizing it, nor using it as a source for content creation. I have hundreds of pieces prewritten, from scholarly journals and studies to personal views and opinions. With that being said, I am using this tiny platform to hopefully portray the mind of those who face these issues and give my readers a glimpse of what their loved ones may be feeling. Maybe it’s not you who ever feels this way, but it is certainly me.

So again, if I offend anyone, I apologize. Thank you for reading.

Published by The Reticent

My goal isn’t even success nor redemption. The damage I’ve caused is way too deep. I look to provide a mental and emotional sanctuary to those need it and remind our people that change is possible. Who knows, maybe if I had that I’d really have success and redemption.

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