I have schizophrenia. But instead of treating the voices in my head like friends or like monsters, I treat them as guardians. They are my inner voice trying to protect me. They made me run out of the house in the middle of the night and then stop at a bus stop where there are people to help, to protect me. They made me upset so that I can release my emotions, which protects me. They warn me when I am exhausted and that protects me. They ask if I'm alright, whether I need anything. They help me process my thoughts one by one by repeating them. They are my guardians, they love me the most, and nothing can convince me otherwise.

We all walk this Earth, but have you ever walked alongside another, and treated them neither friend nor foe but human? Have you ever embraced their mistakes, told them they are not their past and that the future holds so much more than they think? Have you stopped to listen, not with your ears but with your heart and soul, and let them feel accepted? Have you opened your mind to their world, instead of being engrossed in your own?

Humans have the capacity to love. Have you shown love for others when they are at their lowest? Have you shown love when you thought you simply just couldn’t? Have you loved yourself when you thought you were undeserving of it? To love is a gift that we can give not just others but also ourselves.

When I was young I didn’t like to share. I’d always had to share with my sibling. Every packet of oreos, every drink and every toy. I grew up wishing I had everything for myself. But one day someone came along, and he made me want to share. When I saw that look of bliss on his face, I realised that I wanted to share it with him, everything that was good to him. I wanted to feel his bliss, to share my bliss with him and make him happy too. I realised being selfish doesn’t make me feel as good as when I shared.

And so I shared. And I didn’t just share the good, I shared the bad too. If he were to support me now and in the future, as my partner, he had to know about my life. And my life had both good and bad and the in between. He had to know everything, and he welcomed that with open arms. He cradled my sadness, nutured it into strength, and returned it back to me. He saw from different perspectives, and turned me around so I could see them too. He accepted the human side of me, the side of me that wasn’t so lovable, and yet accepted the love from him too.

There were times I felt unloved. There will be times when you feel unloved. And in that moment, learn to love yourself, for the strength within you is more robust than any other external love that you can acquire. Self-validation is better than validation from anyone else.

Of course we’d still like to receive love and care elsewhere. It gets tiring on your own doesn’t it? On your own, on your own, on your own. It gets repetitive. Finding someone who understands is something we all hope for. But that will come in its own time. So give it some space, let nature take its own course. You will find magic and wonder in little things you didn’t even know possible.

In the meantime, keep doing what you want to. Keep doing what you love doing. Keep improving yourself. Keep learning. Keep loving. Keep embracing. Keep accepting. Keep making mistakes. Keep crying. Keep smiling. Keep moving. But most of all, keep being human.

Take your time to feel, your feelings are valid. Don’t push them away. Let them flow. Be open. If you’re sad then you’re sad. It’s alright. Let yourself mourn and grief. It’s all part of the process.

Reach out to your loved ones. They can share your burden. You’re not alone.

Be compassionate to yourself. Tell yourself you’re going to be fine. You’re doing your best. Get back on your feet when you feel like it. Recovery takes time and isn’t linear. Sometimes you take 2 steps forward and 3 steps back. It’s alright. You’re doing fine.

Is today a good day to die?

Maybe not. I haven’t finished my essay. Maybe I’ll die after that so that Mr. Eric won’t be disappointed.

And I also haven’t had sex. It’s a pity to not be able to do something that everyone hails as the best thing in the world to have done. But I have a feeling that I won’t be able to do it even 10 years down the road. Not unless I get her attention.

Maybe I’ll die tomorrow. Maybe I don’t even have to finish the essay, because how important is Mr. Eric anyway? He was nice, but not nice enough to make me want to stay in this world. There was no one nice enough to make me stay in this world. Except her, maybe.

Maybe I’ll stay one day longer so I can see her smile for one more day.

Or maybe I’ll stay a month longer so I can confess to her on the day we graduate.

But what then? It was like waiting for rejection. Was it worth it?

I wanted to have this girl but the effort was too much. It was so much it seemed more than trying to die. But I wanted to try. I wanted so badly to know how it feels like to have a girl.

I stepped off the ledge. Maybe I will try again next time.

Is today a good day to die?

Maybe not. I haven’t finished my essay. Maybe I’ll die after that so that Mr. Eric won’t be disappointed.

And I also haven’t had sex. It’s a pity to not be able to do something that everyone hails as the best thing in the world to have done. But I have a feeling that I won’t be able to do it even 10 years down the road. Not unless I get her attention.

Maybe I’ll die tomorrow. Maybe I don’t even have to finish the essay, because how important is Mr. Eric anyway? He was nice, but not nice enough to make me want to stay in this world. There was no one nice enough to make me stay in this world. Except her, maybe.

Maybe I’ll stay one day longer so I can see her smile for one more day.

Or maybe I’ll stay a month longer so I can confess to her on the day we graduate.

But what then? It was like waiting for rejection. Was it worth it?

I wanted to have this girl but the effort was too much. It was so much it seemed more than trying to die. But I wanted to try. I wanted so badly to know how it feels like to have a girl.

I stepped off the ledge. Maybe I will try again next time.

I imagine /twisting her curly hair into ugly black knots /undoable

Then take all of her darkest secrets /and stain the whiteboards /in permanant markers

Grab her phone and delete her messages /the same way she did to mine

Spread rumours about her cheating on her boyfriend /the same way she did to me

Snatch all her friends /make gossip rife

Ignore her texts /reject her calls

She will cry /beg me to forgive her

I will smile

And go back to bed

Knowing that the best revenge

Is living a life free of it.

She has never quite loved me. Yet I badgered her, forced myself upon her until she gave up time and time again.

We formed this love-hate relationship no one could understand. She hated how she caved in, but I loved how I could always control a part of her. She loved me for being her comfort-zone, but I hated that she’s always wanted to venture out.

I hold her back by the wrists, wrestle with her heart and play with her mind. I grab her by the throat and breathe down her neck. I am the fear that makes her choose flight instead of fight. I am the difference between right and wrong. I am a force to be reckoned with, a formidable opponent she can never quite match up to. I am the seed of doubt in her soul, the only one able to stop her in times of crisis.

I am Cowardice.

There will be days when sleep doesn’t want to haunt you no matter how ghosted you look. Early mornings become ghastly as you stare at the ashen face in the mirror, bleary-eyed. The singsong of birds at your window as piercing as the headache that visits. Forget camomile, not even sleeping pills can cure the zombie that has awoken inside you. The zombie you wish you could put to sleep for good.

Stay strong my friend. Sleep comes when the zombies are least prepared. One day sleep will creep up, not to scare you but to gently sing you a lullaby like your mother had. Your mother’s lullaby will lull anyone to sleep. You will rest and you will survive. People say goodnight for a reason.