Having lived with schizophrenia for this long, one gets used to a heightened level of paranoia as a norm. I am still haunted by the one psychiatrist who said I shouldn’t have children. But I do have two wonderful sons and I try to be the best mother I can be. Still, I watch my sons closely for any early warning signs, reminding myself they are still not of the traditional age of onset. Younger son, as I have written, will be evaluated for Tourette’s syndrome and I wouldn’t be surprised if it comes back as a “yes” as both involve misfirings of neurochemicals in similar areas of the brain.
But last night older son was talking under his breath. When I asked him if he was talking to himself he said he was talking to the angel and the devil that sit on his shoulders. My heart skipped a beat. Then I asked if he was making them talk or if they talked on their own. He assured me that he makes them talk. I asked how many there were. He answered eight. The second time my heart skipped a beat. He then explained a very detailed hierarchy about these self-consciences. The angel has a set, the devil has a set, and so on. I felt fine by the end of our conversation and the paranoia relaxed back to the regular level.
We have not yet told them about what Mommy has because they are young and do not need to know yet. We’ll tell them when the time comes because I do not want to perpetuate the practice of not talking about important things that exists in the families. That creates more messes than it’s worth. They will know what is in their pasts and what to be aware of for their well-beings over their lifetimes.
Eight voices. I had eight voices. The first two were God and the devil. At first they were comforting. But as the six others joined them over the years, and as what they were saying became more violent, they were less and less comforting. I do not miss them, most of the time. Sometimes though, when the decision is really difficult, I wonder how it would be if they were here making the decision for me. It would take the burden off my shoulders. But accountability is a part of life. Making good choices. Even without a little angel and devil on your shoulders.
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