Schizophrenia

People say I should calm down. That I’m imagining things. But this is real—to me, it’s real. The fear. The confusion. The way my mind twists and turns until I don’t know what’s true anymore.

I try to tell them. I really do. But they just smile, nod, and tell me to “stay positive.”
But how do I stay positive when the whispers never stop?

I wake up to whispers. They creep in before my eyes even open, murmuring things I can’t quite understand but feel deep in my chest. Some days, the voices are kind, like old friends keeping me company.